The Country of Poluonasi婆羅痆斯國

The country of Poluonasi is more than four thousand li around. The great capital city of the country stands on the Qingqie river. It is eighteen or nineteen li long and five or six li wide. The gates of its wards stand close as the teeth of a comb, and the people who live there are many and thriving. Their houses hold great heaps of wealth, and treasures and rare goods fill them. The nature of the people is warm and courteous, and their custom holds hard study in honor. They believe much in the other ways and show little reverence to the Law of the Buddha. The climate is mild and grain and crops are plentiful. Fruit trees spread thick, and rich grasses wave. There are more than thirty monasteries and more than three thousand monks, and all of them study the Law of the Zhengliang school of the Lesser Vehicle. There are more than a hundred temples of the gods and more than ten thousand followers of other ways, and most of them serve the great god Zizai as their highest. Some cut off their hair and some tie it in a knot. They bare their bodies and wear no clothes, and they smear their bodies with ashes. By hard and bitter practice they seek to escape from birth and death.

Within the great city there are twenty temples of the gods. Their tiered terraces and shrine halls have carved stone and figured wood. Thick woods give shade to one another, and clear streams cross about them like sashes. There is an image of a god in brass a little under a hundred feet in size. Its majesty is solemn, and it stands in awe as though it were alive.

West of the Poluona river northeast of the great city there is a stupa raised by King Wuyou, more than a hundred feet high. In front of it stands a stone pillar, blue and fresh as a mirror, its light and gloss gathered as though flowing. In it the shadow and form of the Tathagata always appear.

Going northeast from the Poluona river more than ten li, one comes to the monastery of the Deer Park. Its grounds are divided into eight parts, and a joined wall runs round them all. Its tiered halls and storied pavilions are fair and finished to the rule. There are fifteen hundred monks, and all of them study the Law of the Zhengliang school of the Lesser Vehicle. Within the great wall there is a shrine more than two hundred feet high. On top of it an anmoluo fruit is worked in raised gold. Stone makes its foundation and its steps, and brick makes its tiered niches. The niches wind round the four sides, and their ranks and tiers are counted by the hundred, and every one of them holds a raised image of the Buddha in gold. Within the shrine there is an image of the Buddha in brass, of the same size as the body of the Tathagata, made in the posture of turning the wheel of the Law.

Southwest of the shrine there is a stone stupa raised by King Wuyou. Its foundation has leaned and fallen in, but more than a hundred feet still remain. In front of it stands a stone pillar more than seventy feet high. The stone holds a gloss like jade, and it shines and gives back a clear reflection. To those who pray with an earnest heart many forms are seen in its reflection, and there are some who from time to time see signs of good and of evil. This is the place where the Tathagata, after he had reached true awakening, first turned the wheel of the Law.

Not far from its side there is a stupa. This is the place where Aruo Jiaochenru and the others, having seen the bodhisattva give up his bitter practice, no longer waited upon him and guarded him, but came here and practiced meditation by themselves.

The stupa beside it is the place where five hundred who awakened alone entered nirvana together. There are also three stupas at the places where the traces remain of the sitting and the walking of the three Buddhas of the past.

Beside the walking place of the three Buddhas there is a stupa. This is the place where the bodhisattva Maitreya received word that he would become a Buddha. Long ago the Tathagata was on Vulture Peak in the city of Wangshe, and he said to the monks, "In the age to come, the land of this continent of Shanbu will be flat and level, and the life of men will be eighty thousand years. There will be a son of a Brahman named Cishi, whose body will be of true gold color and whose light will shine bright. He will give up his house and reach true awakening, and for living beings he will set forth the Law widely in three assemblies. Those whom he saves will all be the living beings who planted merit under the Law that I leave behind. If they revere the Three Jewels deeply with one mind, then whether they dwell at home or have left home, whether they keep the precepts or break them, all will receive his teaching and guidance, gain the fruit, and be set free. In the three assemblies where he sets forth the Law he will save the company of the Law that I leave behind, and only then will he teach the good friends bound to him by the same cause." At that time the bodhisattva Cishi heard the Buddha say this. He rose from his seat and said to the Buddha, "May I become that World Honored One Cishi." The Tathagata said, "It shall be as you have said, and you will gain this fruit. All that was said above is the manner of your own teaching and changing of men."

West of the place where the bodhisattva Cishi received word there is a stupa. This is the place where the bodhisattva Shakya received word. In the worthy kalpa, at the time when the life of men was twenty thousand years, the Buddha Jiashebo appeared in the world. He turned the wonderful wheel of the Law and opened and taught all that has consciousness, and he gave word to the bodhisattva Huming, saying, "In the age to come, when the life of living beings is a hundred years, this bodhisattva will become a Buddha, and his name will be Shakyamuni."

Not far south of the place where the bodhisattva Shakya received word there are the traces where the four Buddhas of the past walked. They are more than fifty paces long and about seven feet high, built up of blue stone. On top of them is made an image of the Tathagata walking. The form of the image is outstanding and strange, and its majesty is solemn, and above the fleshy topknot the hair rises in a marked crest. Its holy form hides nothing, and its divine reflection has its proofs.

Within that wall the holy traces are truly many. The shrines and the stupas are more than several hundred. Only two or three have been given here in brief, for it is hard to tell them in full.

West of the monastery wall there is a clear pond more than two hundred paces around, where the Tathagata once bathed. Next to the west is a great pond a hundred and eighty paces around, where the Tathagata once washed his vessels. Next to the north is a pond a hundred and fifty paces around, where the Tathagata once washed his robe. In all these three ponds dragons dwell. Their water is deep and its taste is sweet, and it is clear and pure and never grows more or less. When a man bathes in these ponds with a scornful heart, the jinpiluo beast often does him harm, but when he is deeply reverent he may draw the water and use it without fear. On a great square stone beside the pond where the robe was washed there is the mark of the kasaya of the Tathagata. Its pattern is clear and open and shines as though it were carved, and those of pure faith come always to make offerings there. When a cruel man of the other ways treads lightly upon this stone, the dragon king in the pond at once raises wind and rain.

Not far from the side of the ponds there is a stupa. This is the place where the Tathagata, when he was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, was the king of the elephants with six tusks. A hunter coveted his tusks, and putting on a kasaya in deceit he drew his bow and lay in wait to take him. The elephant king revered the kasaya, and so he twisted out his tusks and gave them to him.

Not far from the side of the place where the tusks were twisted out there is a stupa. This is the place where the Tathagata, when he was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, pitied the world for having no courtesy and showed himself in the body of a bird. Here he asked a monkey and a white elephant which of them had first seen this nijulü tree. Each of them told what he remembered, and so the order of elder and younger was set. The teaching reached little by little to far and near, men learned high and low, and monks and laymen came and took refuge.

Not far from its side, in a great forest, there is a stupa. This is the place where the Tathagata long ago, together with Tipodaduo, was a deer king and settled a matter. Long ago in the great forest of this place there were two herds of deer, each of more than five hundred. At that time the king of this country was hunting and roaming over the plains and the marshes. The bodhisattva deer king came before the king and asked him, "Great king, when you hunt in the open plain and set fires and let fly your arrows, all my company will end their lives this morning, and in a few days they will rot and stink and serve nothing for your table. I beg that we may take our turn and send one deer each day. The king will have flesh freshly cut for his table, and we shall lengthen our lives from morning to evening." The king thought his words good and turned his carriage and went back. The two herds of deer gave up their lives by turns in order. In the herd of Tipo there was a doe heavy with young, and when her turn came for her to die she said to her king, "My body must indeed die, but my young one's turn has not come." The deer king was angry and said, "Who does not hold his life dear?" The doe sighed and said, "Our king is without kindness. The day of his death is not far off." Then she told her trouble to the bodhisattva deer king. The deer king said, "How sad is the heart of a loving mother. Her kindness reaches even the young one that has not yet taken form. I shall now take your place." So he went to the gate of the king. The people along the road passed the word and cried out, "That great deer king is now coming into the town." There was no one among the gentry and the common people of the capital who did not run to see. When the king heard of it he thought it untrue, but the gatekeeper told him, and then the king believed it and said, "Why has the deer king come in such haste?" The deer said, "There is a doe who must die, and she has not yet borne the young in her womb. My heart could not bear it, and so I dare to take her place with my own body." When the king heard this he sighed and said, "I have the body of a man, but I am a deer. You have the body of a deer, but you are a man." Then he set all the deer free and took their lives no more, and he made that forest a marsh for the deer. From this it is called the forest where the deer were given, and the name of the Deer Park arose from this.

Two or three li southwest of the monastery there is a stupa more than three hundred feet high. Its foundation is broad and stands high, and it is brightly adorned with rare treasures. It has no tiered niches, but an upturned bowl is set upon it, and though a mark pillar is raised there are no wheels and no bells. Beside it there is a small stupa. This is the place where Aruo Jiaochenru and the other four broke their agreement and went out to meet the Buddha. At the first, after prince Sapohelatuoxituo had climbed over the city wall, he dwelt in the mountains and hid in the valleys, forgetting his body and giving his life to the Law. King Jingfan then ordered three men of his household and two of his mother's kin, saying, "My son Yiqieyicheng has given up his house to study and practice. He wanders alone in the mountains and the marshes and dwells alone in the woods. Therefore I order you to follow him and to know where he stays. Within, you are his uncles on the father's side and on the mother's side; without, you are ruler and subject to him. In all that he does and does not do, know when to go forward and when to hold back." The five men received the order and watched over him, keeping him in sight. Because of this they too sought diligently and hoped to be set free. They would always say to one another, "Does one who practices the way prove it by bitterness or by ease?" Two of them said, "Ease and joy make the way." Three of them said, "Toil and bitterness make the way." The two and the three argued with one another, and it could not be made clear. Then the prince thought upon the highest truth, and in order to subdue the followers of other ways who practice bitter austerities he stinted himself of hemp and rice to hold up his body. Those two men saw it and said, "What the prince does is not the true Law. The way is proved by ease, and now he toils in bitterness. He is not of our company." They left him and fled far off and thought to prove the fruit by themselves. The prince practiced bitter austerity for six years and did not prove bodhi, and to prove that bitter practice is not the true one he took milk gruel and then proved the fruit. When those three men heard it they sighed and said, "His work was near to being finished, and now he has drawn back. Six years of bitter practice thrown away in a day." Then they went together to look for the other two. When they had met, they sat straight and talked loftily, and they said to one another, "Long ago we saw prince Yiqieyicheng leave the royal palace and go out to the wild valleys. He put off his rare clothes and put on deerskin, and he set his will diligently and pressed his heart with an upright vow, seeking the deep and wonderful Law and looking for the highest fruit. Now he has taken milk gruel from a cowherd girl and has broken the way and marred his will. I know it now. He can do nothing." Those two men said, "How late you are to see it. He is only a man run wild. He dwelt in the deep palace and rested in honor and eminence, yet he could not still his will. He took his steps far off to mountain and forest, and he threw away the seat of a wheel king to do the deeds of a low and mean man. What is there in him to think of? To speak of him only adds to our grief." The bodhisattva bathed in the Nilianchan river and sat beneath the bodhi tree and reached full and true awakening, and he was called the teacher of gods and men. He was still and silent, and he looked only for those who should be saved, and he said, "That Yutoulanzi has proved the meditation that is not even thought. He is fit to receive the wonderful Law." The gods in the sky followed his words and reported, "Yutoulanzi ended his life, and seven days have passed since then." The Tathagata sighed with regret, "How is it that we do not meet? He was about to hear the wonderful Law, and he has suddenly followed the change." He looked again and searched through the world, and there was Alanjialan, who had gained the meditation of the place where nothing is and to whom the highest truth might be given. The gods said again, "He ended five days ago." The Tathagata sighed once more and pitied the thinness of his fortune. He looked closely again to see who should receive his teaching, and only the five men in the forest where the deer were given could be led and drawn first. At that time the Tathagata rose from the bodhi tree and went toward the Deer Park. His bearing was still and quiet, his divine light shone bright, his hair held the gleam of jade, and his body was of true gold color. Calmly and gently he went forward and led those five men. When the five men saw the Tathagata from afar, they said to one another, "It is Yiqieyicheng. That is he who comes there. The months and the years have suddenly passed and he has not proved the holy fruit. What he hoped for in his heart has already fallen away, and so he comes to look for our company. Let each of us be silent. Let us not rise to meet him or do him reverence." As the Tathagata came slowly near, his majesty and his divine power moved all things, and the five men forgot their agreement. They bowed and went out to meet him and asked after him, and they waited upon him and followed him according to the rule. The Tathagata led them on little by little and showed them the wonderful truth, and when the rain retreat was over they gained the fruit.

Going east from the forest where the deer were given two or three li, one comes to a stupa. Beside it there is a dried pond more than eighty paces around. One name for it is the pond that saved a life, and it is also called the pond of the brave man. In the records of former times it is heard that some hundreds of years ago there was a man living hidden who built a grass hut beside this pond and covered up his traces. He had studied arts and skills widely and had gone to the end of the divine principles. He could make tiles and pebbles into treasures and change the forms of men and beasts, but he could not yet drive wind and cloud and ride beside the carriages of the immortals. He searched the charts and studied the old books and sought further for the art of the immortals. That art said, "To be an immortal is the art of long life. If you would learn it, first settle your will and build an altar ground more than ten feet around. Order one brave man whose faith and courage are clearly known to hold a long sword and stand at the corner of the altar, holding his breath and cutting off all speech, from dusk until dawn. The one who seeks to be an immortal sits in the middle of the altar, presses a long sword with his hand, recites the divine spell with his mouth, and draws in his sight and turns back his hearing. At the first light he rises to be an immortal. The sharp blade he holds turns into a jeweled sword, and he mounts the void and treads the sky and becomes king among the company of the immortals. He points with the sword he holds and all that he wishes follows him. There is no decay and no growing old, no sickness and no death." When this man had got the art of the immortals he went about seeking a brave man, but though he searched for years he did not fulfill the wish of his heart. Afterward he met a man in the city who was weeping bitterly as he walked along the road. When the man living hidden saw his face he was glad at heart and went to him at once and comforted him and asked, "How have you come to such grief and sorrow?" He said, "I was poor, and I sold my strength to keep myself alive. My master knew my worth and trusted and used me very deeply, and when five years were full he was to give me a heavy reward. So I bore the hard toil and forgot the bitterness and the pain. The five years were near their end when in one morning I went wrong. I was beaten and shamed, and I got nothing at all. When I keep this in my heart, who will pity my grief and my hurt?" The man living hidden asked him to go along with him, and they came to the grass hut. By the power of his art he made meat and dishes appear. Then he had him go into the pond and bathe, and he fattened him with new clothes and gave him five hundred gold coins as well, saying, "When these are spent, come and ask for more. Do not hold yourself a stranger to me." From that time onward he added heavy gifts again and again and quietly did him hidden kindness, and he stirred his heart to gratitude. The brave man often begged to give his life to repay the one who knew his worth. The man living hidden said, "I have sought a brave man through many years and seasons, and by good fortune I have met you, and your rare face fits the chart. There is no other cause. What I wish is only one night without a sound." The brave man said, "I would not refuse even to die. How much less to hold my breath?" So the altar ground was set out and the art of the immortals received, and they did the work according to the way of it and sat waiting for the sun to go down. After dusk each took his own task. The man living hidden recited the divine spell, and the brave man pressed the sharp blade. When it was near dawn he suddenly cried out. At that moment fire came down from the sky, and smoke and flame rose like cloud, and the man living hidden quickly drew him into the pond and escaped the trouble. Then he asked him, "I warned you to make no sound. Why did you cry out in fright?" The brave man said, "After I had received the order, when the night was half through I fell into a haze as though in a dream, and strange things rose one after another. I saw the master I had served long ago come himself to comfort me and beg my pardon. I was moved by his heavy kindness, but I bore it and did not answer him. That man was greatly angry, and I was killed by him. I received the body of the intermediate state, and I looked back on my corpse and sighed, yet I still wished to pass through an age without speaking in order to repay that heavy kindness. Then I was born into the house of a great Brahman of South India, and from entering the womb to leaving the womb I passed through every kind of pain and hardship, yet I bore his kindness and held his goodness in mind and never let out a sound. Through my studies, my capping, my marriage, the loss of my parents, and the birth of my son, I always thought of that earlier kindness and bore it and did not speak, and my clan and my kinsfolk all thought it strange. When my years had passed sixty and five, my wife said to me, 'You may speak. If you do not speak, I shall kill your son.' I thought then that a lifetime already lay between us, and that I looked at myself and was old, and that I had only this little son. I wished to stop my wife and keep her from the killing, and so I let out this sound." The man living hidden said, "It is my fault. This was only the stirring of a demon." The brave man was moved by his kindness and grieved that the work had failed, and in his anger and vexation he died. Because the trouble of the fire was escaped it is called the pond that saved a life, and because he died out of gratitude it is also called the pond of the brave man.

West of the pond of the brave man there is the stupa of the three beasts. This is the place where the Tathagata, when he was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, burned his body. At the beginning of the kalpa there were a fox, a hare, and a monkey in this forest and field, and though they were of different kinds they were glad in one another. At that time Shakra wished to test one who was practicing the way of a bodhisattva, and he sent down his spirit and changed himself into an old man, and he said to the three beasts, "Are you at peace, my friends? Is there nothing to startle you or make you afraid?" They said, "We tread on rich grass and roam in thick woods, and though we are of different kinds we are glad together. We are at peace and we are happy." The old man said, "I heard that your feeling is deep and your friendship is close, and I forgot that I am old and worn and came from far off to find you. Now I am hungry indeed. With what will you feed me?" They said, "Stay here a little while. We shall go ourselves and look for food." So with one heart they emptied themselves of their own wants and parted on different roads to seek. The fox went along the water's edge and brought back a fresh carp in his mouth. The monkey gathered rare flowers and fruits from the trees of the forest. They came together and offered them to the old man. Only the hare came back with empty hands and only ran about to the left and the right. The old man said, "As I see it, you are not yet of one mind. The monkey and the fox were of one will and each could bend his heart to the task, but only the hare came back empty and alone has nothing to give. From this it may truly be known." When the hare heard this reproach he said to the fox and the monkey, "Pile up much firewood. There is something I am about to do." The fox and the monkey ran in rivalry, carrying grass in their mouths and dragging wood, and when it was heaped up high the fierce flame was about to blaze. The hare said, "Kind sir, my body is low and poor and can hardly get what you ask, and so I dare to fill this one meal with my small self." When his words were done he went into the fire and died there at once. At that time the old man took again the body of Shakra. He cleared away the ashes and gathered up the bones and grieved and sighed a long while, and he said to the fox and the monkey, "How has it come to this? I am moved by his heart, and I shall not let his trace be lost. I shall set it in the circle of the moon and hand it down to the ages that come." Therefore they all say that the hare in the moon has been there from that time. Men of later days raised a stupa here.

From here, going east along the flow of the Qingqie river more than three hundred li, one comes to the country of Zhanzhu.