The Sūtra of the Life of the Buddha up to the Twelfth Year of His Career

Taishō no. 195

Translated during the Eastern Jin by the Śramaṇa Kālodaka from the Western Regions (c. 392)

Translated into English by Shaku Shingan (19.12.2024)

An asaṃkhya of kalpas in the past, the Bodhisattva once did hold a throne. His father and his mother, early gone, he yielded to a younger brother’s rule, and left his home to seek the Noble Path. From far he saw a brāhmaṇa, called Gautama, and thus, he followed him to learn the path. Then said the brāhmaṇa unto the prince:

“Cast off these robes that mark your royal birth, bind up your hair, and don these sedge-bound clothes, as I am clad, and take my humble name, Gautama.”

Thereupon he took that name, put on the garments coarse of sedge and reed, and bore the name Gautama as his own. He purified his heart and sought the heights where mountains deep and marshy forests loom, and with his mind attuned, he contemplated the Path.

The brāhmaṇa then spoke:

“You who were king, long steeped in wealth and gentle life’s embrace, are yet unused to hardship’s bracing chill. When summer warms the world, drink of the streams and taste the varied fruits that nature gives; but when the winter’s edge does bite your flesh, return you to the towns and villages to beg your daily bread. Thereafter, come beneath your tree once more and sit in peace, your meditation flowing undefamed. “

When the Bodhisattva, seeking daily alms, returned again unto his native realm, the loftiest lords and common folk alike could not perceive the prince they once had known, and deemed him but some youth named Gautama. Beyond the city’s bounds he made his home, within a grove of sweetest, ripened fruit, wherein a simple hermitage he built, and there he sat alone in silent thought.

At that same time five hundred bandit men, who seized the kingdom’s goods and fled in haste, did pass beside the Bodhisattva’s hut; their furtive tracks were strewn around the wood, and some of what they stole lay near his home.

The following day, those who pursued the thieves did track their steps and found them ended where the Bodhisattva dwelled beneath his roof. They seized him straight and took him forth to judge, believing him the kingdom’s dreaded rogue, a plunderer oft condemned to worse than death. The king commanded then his gathered lords:

“Such one as this, by law, must be impaled.”

They raised him high upon a sharpened stake, which pierced his flesh, and down his blood did run.

Great Gautama, in distant mountain glens, with divine eye beheld the gruesome scene, and by his wondrous powers soared to ask:

“Dear child, what crime has brought you unto this that you must bear such sharp and wounding pain? Your wounds must burn like venom in your veins; how can you stand such torment and despair?”

The Bodhisattva, gasping, thus replied:

“Though agony does coil about my flesh, within I keep a heart of boundless grace. I know not why I suffer such a fate nor why I’m wrongly sentenced unto death.”

Then Gautama addressed him, speaking thus:

“Child, you have no descendants of your seed. Who shall preserve your line beyond this time if you must suffer thus and die in shame?”

The Bodhisattva answered unto him:

“My life is all but done this very breath. Why speak of heirs or those who might succeed?”

Then, by the king’s command, his soldiers drew their strongest bows and loosed their arrows swift, that he might perish by the barb’s keen edge.

Great Gautama, with tears of mournful grief, took down the corpse and readied it for rites. He gathered all the blood-soaked earth around and wrought it into lumps of moistened clay, taking from either side and placing them upon the mountain heights. When to hermitage he returned, he kept the blood from left side separate, and likewise blood from right side set apart. Then Gautama did speak these solemn words:

“Child, you who did renounce your worldly life, if true your heart, the devas should make bloom new human forms from this most grievous blood.”

When ten full months had passed, behold the sign: from left-born blood a male did come to be; from right-born blood a female counterpart. They bore his name and thus were known as those called Śākyas, sprung from Gautama’s race.

From out the Bhadra Kalpa onward came a Tathāgata, by name, “the Jewel Bright,” whose years outstripped the Śākyas’ by five million. In ages after him rose twenty-five great kings, each living three full million years. King Māndhātṛ then lived one million long, King Mūrdhaja, and one more Śākya King, both those of left and right thigh lineage, each lived a hundred thousand mortal years. From King Prāmodya’s time, all those who reigned endured but eighty-four long thousand years.

Through evil thoughts, a later Śākya King slew but a single ox in sacrifice, commencing thus a bloody fall from grace. He lost the golden wheel; receiving then a silver wheel with rulership confined to just three continents and only lived ten thousand years, alas, with fading grace. King Dṛḍhacitta forged an armoured suit, and thus his life was just five thousand years, and with a copper wheel, he reigned but two: the western and the southern continents. Then King Prāmodya slew another king and lived two thousand five full hundred years, obtained an iron wheel and ruled but one: the southern continent beneath his sway. This king begat a prince who stained his hands with five unwholesome deeds, and each foul kill reduced the living span by thousand years.

In ancient times, those people bore nine ills: cold, heat, and hunger gnawed their mortal frames as thirst and birth, old age and sickness came and death’s inevitable hand as well. Because the brāhmaṇas shed living blood in heedless sacrifice, four hundred four new plagues sprang forth to haunt the human lot.

From King Siṃhacitta’s time, life declined, and men lived but a scant one hundred years and twenty more. Then rose King Siṃhacetana, and after him came eighty-four more lords. With each new reign, the fragile span of life diminished down to eighty, seventy, then fifty, thirty, twenty, even ten. At length came King Siṃhahanu, then Śuddhodana, father of the Bodhisattva. From earliest roots through all these countless kings, eighty-four thousand Śākyas bore the name of Gautama, a lineage mature.

While the Bodhisattva in Tuṣita’s realm prepared to leave that blissful heaven’s height, he cast his eye upon the mortal world to choose a place and clan for his descent. He said:

“None but King Śuddhodana’s house is fit to be the cradle of my birth.”

In that bright heaven stood a tree of Tuṣita; before he left, the Bodhisattva rose and sat beneath another tree to muse, the former seat grew dim, its light now waned.

Then spoke a deva:

“Why this change of seat? Why does the Bodhisattva forsake his bough?”

Another deva, wise, replied with calm:

“Know you not his intent? He now intends to pass from heaven down to Jambudvīpa. He scans each land to find a worthy home and finds that only Śuddhodana’s house is well disposed for such a holy birth. “

Then all the devas wondered, each in turn:

“The Bodhisattva shall descend below; what offerings shall we now prepare for him?”

They turned their minds to countless precious gifts saying:

“Four hundred four bright heavenly treasures pure, each richly carved, each pattern shining forth with jewel-blossoms to adorn his car.”

The nāga king named *Irāman shaped it so—a chariot formed as a white elephant, its whiteness outshining Himalayan snow. This beast had thirty-three majestic heads, and from each head, there spread sevenfold tusks. Each tusk upheld seven ponds of purest form; each pond bore seven blossoms of utpala; upon each flower stood a jewelled maid. Thus, the Bodhisattva, with countless gods—eighty-four thousand devas in his train— descended borne upon that radiant beast.

Then, in the silent depth of midnight’s hour, the wife of King Śuddhodana beheld a pale white elephant in phantoms drawn. Startled from sleep, she rose and told the king.

The Bodhisattva’s father, Śuddhodana, had four brothers. Śuddhodana himself had two dear sons: the elder, Siddhārtha; the younger named as Nanda. Māyā bore the Bodhisattva, while Gautamī bore Nanda. The Bodhisattva’s uncle, Amṛtodana, had yet two sons: the elder, Devadatta, and Ānanda, the younger of the pair. Another uncle, Droṇodana named, too had two sons: Mahānāma Śākya first, and next Aniruddha. Śuklodana, the youngest uncle, fathered two good sons: the elder, King [Nandika?] Śākya called; the younger styled as King Tiṣya Śākya too.

Within the land of Kapilavastu stood eight cities, home to nine full million all.

Devadatta was born the fourth month’s seventh day; the Buddha on the eighth day of that month; the Buddha’s brother, Nanda, on the ninth; Ānanda on the tenth day was brought forth. Devadatta’s height was fifteen feet and four; the Buddha’s measured sixteen feet in full; Prince Nanda rose to fifteen feet and four; and Ānanda was fifteen feet and three. Their noble Śākya clan reached fourteen feet, while all the other folk stood thirteen tall.

The Bodhisattva’s kin on his mother’s side dwelt eight full hundred leagues from his own town, a lesser kingdom of the Gautama clan, with one vast million households under sway, their monarch known among them as King Koṭī. The Bodhisattva’s wife’s own line as well stemmed from that Gautama and Śākya stock, their elder being Suprabuddha named. His wife’s own mother bore the name Candrakānyā. Close by their border rose another town, and when their daughter first drew living breath, the western sun’s last rays still graced their home, filling the hall with bright and gentle light. For this, they named the child as Gopī fair, which means “Bright Maiden” in our speech. Gopī was chief among the prince’s wives; her father was the elder Suprabuddha. The second consort bore young Rāhula; her name was Yaśodharā, and her sire was Daṇḍapānī, a householder known. The third was Mṛgajā, her father too a householder within the Śākya clan. Since the crown prince had taken these three brides, his royal father built three palaces for changing seasons, each with twenty thousand bright maidens in attendance at his side, in sum full sixty thousand stood to serve. Because the prince would rise as Śākya king, they gave him sixty thousand concubines.

The Buddha left his home at twenty-nine and won full buddhahood at thirty-five. From fourth month’s eighth to seventh month’s fifteenth day, he sat neath Bodhi Tree for one long year. Within the second year, in Deer Park’s peace, he taught Ājñāta Kauṇḍinya the Way, and after him, he spoke to Bimbisara, then Kāśyapa and seventeen more yet. Again he turned the Wheel for that great man known for his wealth, and two devoted maids. Again he taught the Nirgrantha Jñātiputra and forty-two, whose past lives linked to him back in the age of Dīpaṅkara’s grace. The third year found him teaching Uruvilvā-Kāśyapa and both his brothers, making a thousand bhikṣus. The fourth year on Gayāśīrṣa’s heights, he preached for nāgas, pretas, devas, all in turn. The fifth year in Veṇuvana, he taught the Dharma unto Śakra’s mighty ears. That fifth year, ere he reached the famed Śrāvastī, Śāriputra, a noble brāhmaṇa, with one and twenty-five disciples near, sat silently beneath a leafy tree.

Meanwhile, in Magadha’s domain, the one called Maudgalyāyana, a minister of highest rank, did come upon that scene where Śāriputra sat beneath the leaves. He questioned him:

“Why choose this lonely seat?”

Śāriputra answered:

“I would awaken.”

Then Maudgalyāyana asked once more:

“Might I not join you as a comrade true?”

He turned back all his hundred serving men, and from them held one hundred twenty-five, thus two hundred and fifty in their band.

Then Śāriputra went within the town to gather alms, and met by chance a monk, ahe bhikṣu Aśvajit, who followed him whom we call Buddha.

Then Śāriputra asked:

“What manner of ascetic might you be, who wear these robes, unlike the common sort?”

Aśvajit answered:

“I serve the Buddha’s way.”

Then Śāriputra pressed:

“How does he teach?”

Aśvajit said:

“All dharmas rise from cause, by conditions cease. When they are all consumed, all suffering, too, is perfectly undone.”

Upon these words, stream-entry’s fruit arose in Śāriputra’s mind. Rejoicing thus, he hastened back to Maudgalyāyana, saying:

“A wondrous being walks upon this earth.”

Then Maudgalyāyana asked once more:

“How does he teach?”

And Śāriputra declared all he had learned. Maudgalyāyana attained stream-entry too. With all their following they went to see the Buddha. Even ere they had arrived, the Buddha to his monks foretold:

“Behold, two worthy men approach; one shall be famed as bhikṣu wise in thought. The other hailed for supernormal might. They soon shall come.”

The Buddha taught the Truths, and in seven days did Śāriputra reach arhatship’s peak; in fifteen days, the same came Maudgalyāyana to Arhat’s height.

Within the sixth year Sudatta and the Prince called Jeta wrought a vihāra for the Sage. They raised twelve halls for Buddha’s dwelling place, and seventy-two broad halls for discourse made, with three and sixty hundred monastic cells, and five full hundred caityas all arranged. Within the seventh year, in Aparagodānīya, he taught the “Pratyutpanna-samādhi” thus to Bodhisattva Bhadra and seven more. The eighth year found him in Nyagrodha’s wood, preaching to the *Duṅkiṃnara king’s young kin. Within the ninth year, in a marsh unclean, he spoke the Dharma unto *Dhaguma’s ears. The tenth year saw his footsteps turn again to Magadha, where King Bimbisara heard his Dharma-teaching. In the eleventh year, beneath the Tree of Fear, he did expound Maitreya’s future origins profound. The twelfth year passed as he returned once more into his father’s realm. There, eighty leagues away within a Śākya hermitage, he taught the Dharma unto one *Śyāmaka. Then back he came into the city’s midst and taught his father-king and all the clan; eight-four full thousand reached stream-entry’s fruit.

Within these fourteen lands the Buddha roamed: for twelve long years expounding Dharma’s light. King Prasenajit’s name means “Harmonious Joy,” Kapilavastu means “Wondrous Virtue” deep, Śrāvastī known as “City of All Things,” Vaiśālī called “Vastness,” or “Crossing o’er the floods of birth and death’s unending tide.” Rājagṛha is “King’s House,” famed and grand, Kuru is known as “Land of Wisest Men.” Vārāṇasī, “The Deer Park” also named, or “Every Buddha’s Land,” is richly blessed.

In Jambudvīpa stand sixteen nations great, with eighty-four full thousand city walls, ruled over by eight kings and four great lords. East dwells the Jin Emperor, crowds abound. South reigns the lord of India’s broad domain whose land is rich in elephants renowned. West holds the Emperor of Great Qin’s worth, with gold and silver, jade and gems galore. Toward the northwest dwell the Yuezhi’s lord, whose land is famed for horses fine and swift. Among these eighty-four full thousand towns, are six and forty hundred peoples strange, ten thousand different tongues by mortals used, five hundred sixty thousand myriad shrines. Six thousand four full hundred fish are known, four thousand five hundred species counted birds, two thousand four hundred kinds of beasts at large, ten thousand trees, eight thousand sorts of grass, seven hundred forty herbs of healing power, forty-three mixed fragrances known to all, one hundred twenty-one bright kinds of gems, and seven precious stones esteemed as prime.

Within the seas lie twice five hundred lands: of these, one hundred eighty feed on grains, three hundred thirty feast on flesh of fish, soft-shelled and hard-shelled turtles, tortoise meat, and crocodile as well they set to eat.

There are five kings that rule five hundred towns. The first, called Silī, tends to Buddha’s faith, and worships none of heresies’ dark paths. The second king is Kāla, whose domain is rich in all the seven treasured goods. The third is Pura, known for incense rare, of forty-two refined and subtle sorts, and white vaidūrya stones. The fourth is Jaya, whose land bears bīja, kuśa, pepper black. The fifth is Nān, where pearls of purest white and seven-hued beryl gleam beneath the sun. In these five mighty realms the people stand as dark and short, yet faithful in their ways. They lie full sixty-five long thousand leagues beyond our lands. Past that, the ocean spreads, no human trace abides, and further still, one million and four hundred thousand leagues stand the great Cakravāḍa’s towering range.

Translator’s note:

This translation is an experiment in dynamic equivalence. The original text is in prose but mainly in four-character clauses. To give some equivalent semblance of this in English, the literal formal translation was first rendered into pentameter and then put into prose.

The text is a short biography of the Buddha. In brief, after recounting one of the Buddha’s past lives and the genealogy of the Śākyas, it recounts his life, renunciation and awakening, and the first twelve years of his career. The text also contains a general account of the kingdoms and people with whom he interacted and concludes with a brief description of the known world at the time of the translation.

There are several variances between the names and figures in the genealogy and family of the Śākyas here and in the usual accounts. This text is also noteworthy in indicating that the Buddha had three wives. Not all names are clear from the Chinese transcriptions, so I have approximated the pronunciation of uncertain names and marked them with an asterisk.