A City Like the Realm of Hungry Ghosts
Jewel Light's promised hymn turns out to be the longest verse this fascicle has held so far, and it opens where the king's own reign did not yet reach — a city of killing, drought, and dead trees, described one unbearable image at a time before any change is allowed to appear.
A City Like the Realm of Hungry Ghosts
Before a single virtue of the king is named, the hymn spends its opening stanzas on what the city was before he ever appeared in it.
「時，寶光明女，信心清淨，生大歡喜，即以偈頌而讚王言：「『往昔此城邑，
大王未出時，
一切不可樂，
猶如餓鬼處。
眾生相殺害，
竊盜縱婬佚，
兩舌不實語，
無義麁惡言，
貪愛他財物，
瞋恚懷毒心，
邪見不善行，
命終墮惡道。
以是等眾生，
愚癡所覆蔽，
住於顛倒見，
天旱不降澤。
以無時雨故，
百穀悉不生，
草木皆枯槁，
泉流亦乾竭。
大王未興世，
津池悉枯涸，
園苑多骸骨，
望之如曠野。
大王昇寶位，
廣濟諸群生，
油雲被八方，
普雨皆充洽。
大王臨庶品，
普斷諸暴虐，
刑獄皆止措，
惸獨悉安隱。
At that time, Jewel Light, her faith pure, gave rise to great joy, and praised the king in verse, saying: "In ages past, this city,
before the great king had yet appeared,
was entirely without joy,
just like the realm of hungry ghosts.
Beings killed one another,
stole, and indulged in lust without restraint;
they spoke with a forked tongue and told lies,
spoke without meaning and used coarse, evil words;
they coveted the wealth of others,
harboured wrath and poisonous minds;
they held wrong views and did unwholesome deeds,
and at the end of their lives fell into evil paths.
Because beings such as these
were covered over by delusion,
and dwelt in inverted views,
the sky grew dry and no moisture fell.
Because the rain no longer came in its season,
not a single grain would grow;
every plant and tree withered,
and every spring and stream ran dry.
Before the great king arose in the world,
every ford and pool had dried up entirely;
the gardens and groves were full of bones,
and looking upon them was like looking upon a wasteland.
When the great king ascended the jewelled throne,
he broadly rescued every multitude of beings;
rich clouds covered the eight directions,
and rain fell universally, filling everything to abundance.
When the great king governed over every kind of being,
he universally put an end to every cruelty and violence;
punishments and prisons were entirely set aside,
and the orphaned and the solitary all found peace.
眾生相殺害⋯⋯命終墮惡道 — counted directly against the source, this single stanza runs to eight lines rather than the usual four, compressing something close to the classical ten unwholesome deeds — killing, theft, sexual misconduct, lying, divisive speech, harsh and idle speech, covetousness, ill will, wrong view — into one unbroken breath before naming their result. Every other stanza in this opening run holds to four lines; only the catalogue of evils itself is allowed to run long.
From Hungry Ghosts to Śakra's Own Garden
The hymn now settles into a rhythm it will hold for several stanzas running — a line of what things were, set directly against a line of what they have become.
往昔諸眾生，
各各相殘害，
飲血而噉肉，
今悉起慈心。
往昔諸眾生，
貧窮少衣服，
以草自遮蔽，
飢羸如餓鬼。
大王既興世，
秔米自然生，
樹中出妙衣，
男女皆嚴飾。
昔日競微利，
非法相陵奪；
今時竝豐足，
如遊帝釋園。
昔時人作惡，
非分生貪染，
他妻及童女，
種種相侵逼。
今見他婦人，
端正妙嚴飾，
而心無染著，
猶如知足天。
昔日諸眾生，
妄言不真實，
非法無利益，
諂曲取人意。
今日群生類，
悉離諸惡言，
其心既柔軟，
發語亦調順。
昔日諸眾生，
種種行邪法，
合掌恭敬禮，
牛羊犬豚類。
In ages past, beings everywhere
harmed one another,
drinking blood and devouring flesh;
now, every one of them has given rise to a mind of loving-kindness.
In ages past, beings were poor
and had scarcely any clothing,
covering themselves with grass alone,
starved and wasted like hungry ghosts.
Once the great king had arisen in the world,
rice grew of itself without cultivation,
and wondrous garments grew forth from the trees;
men and women alike were adorned in splendour.
In days past, people contended over the smallest gain,
trampling and plundering one another against all law;
now, all alike are abundantly provided for,
as though wandering in Śakra's own garden.
In days past, people did evil,
giving rise to improper craving and defilement,
forcing themselves upon the wives and daughters of others
in every kind of way.
Now, seeing the wife of another,
upright and finely adorned,
their minds hold no defiled attachment at all,
just like the Heaven of Contentment.
In days past, beings everywhere
spoke false and untrue words,
unlawful and without benefit,
currying others' favour through flattery and deceit.
Today, every kind of being
has left behind every evil word;
their minds have become gentle,
and the words they speak are likewise mild and compliant.
In days past, beings everywhere
practised every kind of wrong teaching,
joining their palms and bowing in reverence
to cattle, sheep, dogs, and pigs.
往昔⋯⋯今 — in ages past⋯⋯now. Checked directly, this run of stanzas uses 往昔, 昔日, or 昔時 six times and 今, 今時, or 今日 four times — not a perfectly matched pair for every clause. Some contrasts state the past explicitly and leave the present only implied, as in the stanza on abundance, where 大王既興世, once the great king had arisen, stands in for a "now" the poem never actually writes. The before-and-after structure is a strong habit of this hymn, not a rule it enforces on every single stanza.
A Voice That Teaches Without Anyone Speaking
The last superstition dissolves into true dharma, and the hymn turns from what changed in the people to what the king's own presence — his voice, his canopy, its very bells — does entirely on its own.
今聞王正法，
悟解除邪見，
了知苦樂報，
悉從因緣起。
大王演妙音，
聞者皆欣樂；
梵釋音聲等，
一切無能及。
大王眾寶蓋，
逈處虛空中，
擎以瑠璃幹，
覆以摩尼網。
金鈴自然出，
如來和雅音，
宣揚微妙法，
除滅眾生惑。
次復廣演說，
十方諸佛剎，
一切諸劫中，
如來并眷屬。
又復次第說，
過去十方剎，
及彼國土中，
一切諸如來。
又出微妙音，
普遍閻浮界，
廣說人天等，
種種業差別。
眾生聽聞已，
自知諸業藏，
離惡勤修行，
迴向佛菩提。
Now, hearing the king's own true dharma,
they awaken and understand, and cast off wrong views,
fully knowing that the recompense of suffering and joy alike
arises entirely from causes and conditions.
When the great king utters his wondrous voice,
all who hear it rejoice in it;
the voices of Brahmā and Śakra alike,
none of them can match it.
The great king's own jewelled canopy
hangs far off in the midst of open space,
upheld by a shaft of lapis lazuli,
and covered over with a net of maṇi jewels.
From its golden bells there comes forth, of itself,
the tathāgata's own gentle and elegant voice,
proclaiming the subtle and wondrous dharma,
and dispelling every delusion of beings.
Next, it broadly proclaims
the buddha-lands of the ten directions,
and, throughout every kalpa,
every tathāgata together with his retinue.
And then, in due order, it tells
of the lands of the ten directions in ages past,
and, within those very lands,
every tathāgata there.
And it further sends forth a subtle and wondrous voice,
spreading throughout the whole of Jambudvīpa,
broadly proclaiming the various distinctions of karma
among humans, gods, and all beings.
Beings, having heard this,
come to know for themselves the storehouse of their own karma;
they leave behind evil, diligently cultivate practice,
and dedicate it all toward the buddha's own bodhi.
金鈴自然出，如來和雅音 — from its golden bells there comes forth, of itself, the tathāgata's own gentle and elegant voice. The king himself is not recorded speaking a single word of dharma in this entire stretch of the hymn; the teaching comes from his canopy's bells, sounding of their own accord, 自然, with no one ringing them. By the time beings dedicate their practice toward bodhi in this section's final line, the only voice credited with having taught them anything belongs to an object, not a person.
Part 1157 Complete
This continues chapter thirty-nine, 入法界品, in fascicle seventy-two. Part 1158 continues Jewel Light's hymn into an entirely new subject — the king's own parents, and the miraculous circumstances of his birth on a thousand-petalled lotus.