The Buddha's Last Announcement, and the World's Final Offering

Thus have I heard. At one time the Buddha was dwelling among the twin sāla trees on the bank of the Ajitavatī River, in the land of the Mallas at Kuśinagara, together with a great assembly of eight hundred thousand million monks surrounding him on every side. On the fifteenth day of the second month, as he drew near his parinirvāṇa, the Buddha, by his own spiritual power, sent forth a great voice that filled every realm up to the summit of existence, proclaiming to beings of every kind, each in the voice proper to its kind: "Today the Tathāgata, Worthy One, Perfectly Awakened One, out of pity for all beings and to shelter and protect them — regarding every being as he regards his own son Rāhula — becomes for them a refuge, a house, a home. The Great Awakened World-Honored One is about to enter parinirvāṇa; let any being who still has a doubt ask it now, for this is the last chance to ask." Then, in the early morning, the World-Honored One sent forth from his face rays of many colors — blue, yellow, red, white, crystal, and agate — light that shone throughout this trichiliocosm, this three-thousandfold great-thousandfold Buddha-world, and likewise through all the ten directions. Every being of the six destinies touched by that light had every sin, defilement, and affliction wiped away.

Seeing and hearing this, all these beings were overcome with grief, and together raised their voices in weeping and lamentation: "Ah, our compassionate father — how painful, how bitter!" Some struck their own heads and beat their breasts, crying aloud; others trembled in their bodies, weeping and choking on their own sobs.

Then the whole earth, every mountain, and the great ocean all quaked and shook. The beings said to one another: "Let each of us restrain ourselves a little, and not give way to excessive grief. Let us go quickly to the birthplace of the Mallas in the city of Kuśinagara, to where the Tathāgata is, bow our heads to his feet in reverence, and beg him not to enter parinirvāṇa, but to remain in the world for a kalpa, or at least for less than a kalpa." Taking one another's hands, they said further: "The world is empty, empty. The merit of beings is exhausted, and unwholesome deeds are increasing and spreading through the world. All of you, go now, go quickly — the Tathāgata will surely enter parinirvāṇa before long." And they said again: "The world is empty, the world is empty. From this day we shall have no one to save or protect us, nothing to rely on or revere; we shall be poor, destitute, and alone. Once we are parted from the Peerless World-Honored One, if any doubt should arise in us, whom shall we ask?"

At that time there were countless great disciples — the venerable Mahākātyāyana, the venerable Bakkula, the venerable Upananda, and other great monks like them — who, touched by the Buddha's light, trembled so violently in their bodies that they could not compose themselves; their minds grew clouded and distressed, and they cried out, giving rise to every kind of anguish.

At that time there were also eighty hundred-thousand monks, every one an arhat, minds that had attained mastery, their work already done, free of every affliction, their faculties well-tamed — like great nāga kings of great majestic virtue, they had accomplished the wisdom of emptiness and attained their own true benefit; like a sandalwood forest surrounded by sandalwood, like a lion king surrounded by lions, they had accomplished immeasurable virtues of this kind, and every one of them was a true child of the Buddha. In the early morning, just as the sun was rising, while they were still at their dwelling places chewing their tooth-cleaning twigs, they were touched by the Buddha's light, and said to one another: "Friends, quickly rinse your mouths and wash your hands." No sooner had they said this than the hair on their bodies stood on end, and blood appeared all over their skin like the palāśa flower; tears filled their eyes, and they were overcome with great anguish. Wishing to benefit and bring peace to beings, to accomplish the Great Vehicle's foremost practice of emptiness, to reveal the Tathāgata's skillful and hidden teaching, and, for the sake of beings still to be tamed, to keep the teaching of the Dharma from ever ceasing, they hastened to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, joined their palms in reverence, and withdrew to sit to one side.

At that time there were also the woman Kuṇḍalā, the nun Bhadrā, the nun Upananda, the nun Sāgaramati, and sixty million other nuns, every one of them likewise a great arhat, every affliction already exhausted, minds that had attained mastery, their work already done, free of every affliction, their faculties well-tamed — like great nāgas of great majestic virtue, they had accomplished the wisdom of emptiness. They too, in the early morning as the sun was rising, felt the hair on their bodies stand on end, blood appearing all over their skin like the palāśa flower, tears filling their eyes, overcome with great anguish. Wishing likewise to benefit and bring peace to beings, to accomplish the Great Vehicle's foremost practice of emptiness, to reveal the Tathāgata's skillful and hidden teaching, and, for the sake of beings still to be tamed, to keep the teaching of the Dharma from ever ceasing, they hastened to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, joined their palms in reverence, and withdrew to sit to one side.

Among these nuns there were others who were in truth bodhisattvas, dragons among humankind, abiding unshaken at the tenth ground, who had taken on a woman's body only to teach beings, while constantly cultivating the four immeasurable minds, and who had gained the power to manifest as buddhas at will.

At that time there was also a bodhisattva-mahāsattva assembly numbering a Ganges-sand, dragons among humankind, abiding unshaken at the tenth ground, present there by their own skillful manifestation. Among them the bodhisattva Sāgaraguṇa and the bodhisattva Akṣayamati were foremost. Their minds all revered the Great Vehicle, abided in the Great Vehicle, deeply understood the Great Vehicle, delighted in the Great Vehicle, and guarded the Great Vehicle; skillfully according with every kind of being in the world, they had made this vow: "Whoever has not yet crossed over, we will bring across." Through countless past kalpas they had upheld pure precepts and kept well to their practice, freeing those not yet freed, so that the seed of the Three Jewels would never be cut off; in ages to come they would turn the wheel of the Dharma, adorning themselves with great adornment, and had accomplished immeasurable virtues of this kind, regarding every being with the same care a parent gives an only child. They too, in the early morning as the sun was rising, were touched by the Buddha's light, and felt the hair on their bodies stand on end, blood appearing all over their skin like the palāśa flower, tears filling their eyes, overcome with great anguish. Wishing likewise to benefit and bring peace to beings, to accomplish the Great Vehicle's foremost practice of emptiness, to reveal the Tathāgata's skillful and hidden teaching, and, for the sake of beings still to be tamed, to keep the teaching of the Dharma from ever ceasing, they hastened to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, joined their palms in reverence, and withdrew to sit to one side.

At that time there were also two Ganges-sands of upāsakas, holding the five precepts, their conduct fully accomplished, among whom the upāsaka King Vimalakīrti of Majestic Virtue and the upāsaka Sudatta were foremost. They delighted in examining the gateways that counter attachment — suffering and happiness, permanence and impermanence, purity and impurity, self and no-self, the real and the unreal, refuge and its absence, being a sentient being and not being one, the constant and the inconstant, safety and its absence, the conditioned and the unconditioned, what is to be cut off and what is not, nirvāṇa and its absence, the surpassing and the unsurpassing — constantly delighting in examining these dharma-gateways that counter attachment, and wishing also to hear the peerless Great Vehicle, so that, once having heard it, they could teach it to others. Well upholding pure precepts, thirsting after the Great Vehicle, having satisfied themselves they could satisfy others still thirsting. Skillfully gathering peerless wisdom, delighting in the Great Vehicle, guarding the Great Vehicle. Skillfully according with every kind of being in the world, freeing those not yet freed, releasing those not yet released. So that the seed of the Three Jewels would never be cut off, in ages to come they would turn the wheel of the Dharma, adorning themselves with great adornment, their minds forever savoring pure conduct, having accomplished virtues of this kind, giving rise to great compassion for every being, regarding each one equally, without exception, as an only child.

Also in the early morning, as the sun was rising, wishing to cremate the Tathāgata's body, each of them gathered ten thousand bundles of fragrant wood — sandalwood, aloeswood, ox-head sandalwood, and heavenly wood-incense — every single piece of which, in its very grain, carried the fine luster of the seven treasures, as though painted over in every color, made so by the Buddha's own power, blue, yellow, red, and white, delightful for every being to see. Every piece of wood was smeared with every kind of fragrance — saffron, aloeswood, resin-incense — and adorned further with scattered flowers: blue lotus, red lotus, white lotus, and the great white lotus. Banners of five colors, soft and fine as a garment of the gods, silk brocade of every weave, were hung above the fragrant wood. This fragrant wood was loaded onto jeweled carriages, and these jeweled carriages sent out light of every color, blue, yellow, red, and white; their shafts and wheel-rims were inlaid throughout with the seven treasures, and each carriage was drawn by four horses, each horse as swift as the wind. Before each carriage stood fifty-seven exquisite jeweled banner-poles, draped over in a net of true gold; each jeweled carriage also carried fifty fine jeweled canopies, and from each carriage hung garlands of flowers — blue lotus, red lotus, white lotus, and the great white lotus — their petals wrought purely of true gold, their calyxes of diamond. Within these flower-calyxes gathered many black bees, roaming there in delight, and sending out a wondrous sound — the sound of impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and no-self — a sound in which, further, the bodhisattva path once practiced was proclaimed. There was also every kind of song and dance and music — zithers, flutes, harps, panpipes, and drums — and within this music, further, came the words: "How bitter, how bitter — the world is empty." Before each carriage stood an upāsaka bearing a stand of the four treasures, laden with every kind of flower — blue lotus, red lotus, white lotus, and the great white lotus — with saffron and every other fragrance, of the finest and rarest kind.

The upāsakas also prepared every kind of food for the Buddha and the saṅgha, complete in every respect, all cooked over fragrant sandalwood and aloeswood fuel and matured in water of the eight virtues; the food was delicious, of six flavors — bitter, sour, sweet, pungent, salty, and bland — and possessed further of three qualities: it was light and soft, it was pure and clean, and it accorded with the Dharma. Having arranged every adornment of this kind, they came to the birthplace of the Mallas among the twin sāla trees, and spread the ground there over with golden sand, covering the sand with garments of kālinga-cloth, of fine wool, and of silk brocade, extending all around for a full twelve yojanas. For the Buddha and the saṅgha they laid out lion-thrones of the seven treasures, seats as tall and great as Mount Sumeru, over which hung jeweled canopies draped with strings of jewels. Every sāla tree was hung with fine banners and canopies of every kind, its trunk smeared with every fragrance, and every kind of famous flower scattered among the branches. Each upāsaka thought to himself: "Whatever any being still lacks, if they need food let them have food, if they need drink let them have drink, if they need a head let them have my head, if they need eyes let them have my eyes — whatever any being needs, let it all be given." And in giving this way, they were free of desire, of anger, and of any defiled or poisonous thought, seeking nothing further for worldly happiness, aspiring only to the peerless, pure awakening.

These upāsakas, all of them already established on the bodhisattva path, thought further: "Once the Tathāgata has accepted our food, he will enter parinirvāṇa." Having had this thought, the hair on their bodies all stood on end, blood appeared all over their skin like the palāśa flower, tears filled their eyes, and they were overcome with great anguish; each carrying his own offerings, they loaded the jeweled carriages with the fragrant wood, banners, jeweled canopies, and food, and hastened to where the Buddha was. Bowing their heads to his feet, they offered these things to the Tathāgata, circling him a hundred thousand times, raising their voices in wailing loud enough to move heaven and earth, beating their breasts and crying aloud, tears falling like rain, saying to one another: "How bitter, friends! The world is empty, the world is empty." Then, throwing themselves bodily down before the Tathāgata, they said to the Buddha: "We beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The World-Honored One, knowing that the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it.

Though they asked three times in this way, he refused every time. The upāsakas, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and fell silent.

It was like a loving father whose only son has suddenly sickened and died: having carried the body to the burial ground and returned home, he is left disconsolate, sunk in grief and anguish. The sorrow and anguish of these upāsakas were just the same; setting their offerings all down together in one place, they withdrew to one side and sat there in silence.

At that time there were also three Ganges-sands of upāsikās, holding the five precepts, their conduct fully accomplished, among whom the upāsikā Āyuśrī, the upāsikā Mālāguṇā, the upāsikā Viśākhā, and eighty-four thousand others were foremost. Every one of them was able to bear the responsibility of upholding the true Dharma, and, in order to save countless hundreds of thousands of beings, had taken on a woman's body precisely to reproach the life of the household. Each contemplated her own body as four poisonous snakes: this body is forever being devoured by countless worms; this body is foul, bound by craving as though shackled; this body is repulsive, like a dead dog; this body is impure, its nine openings forever flowing. This body is like a fortress-city — flesh, blood, sinew, and bone wrapped in skin, hands and feet its watchtowers, the eyes its window-slits, the head its palace hall, with the mind as sovereign seated within — and this fortress-city of a body is precisely what every buddha and world-honored one has cast aside, yet what the foolish and unlearned forever cling to and savor, a fortress in which the rākṣasas of lust, anger, and delusion make their dwelling. This body is not solid, like a reed, like the ricinus plant, like a bubble on water, like the trunk of a plantain tree. This body is impermanent, never abiding from one instant to the next, like a flash of lightning, like a raging flood, like a mirage, or like a picture drawn on water, closing over the instant it is drawn. This body is easily destroyed, like a great tree leaning over a steep riverbank. Before long this body will be devoured by foxes, wolves, owls, vultures, crows, and starving dogs. What wise person, then, could delight in such a body? One could sooner scoop up the whole ocean in a single hoofprint than fully describe this body's impermanence, impurity, and foulness. One could sooner roll the whole earth down to the size of a jujube, and smaller still, down to a mustard seed, and smaller still, down to a mote of dust, than fully describe this body's faults. It should therefore be cast off, the way one spits out phlegm. For this reason these upāsikās constantly cultivated their minds with the dharma of emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness. They delighted deeply in receiving instruction in the scriptures of the Great Vehicle, and, once having heard them, could expound them to others in turn; upholding their original vow, they held the female body in the deepest reproach, as something greatly to be wearied of, without any solid nature of its own, and constantly cultivated in their minds this correct contemplation, breaking apart the boundless cycle of birth and death. Thirsting after the Great Vehicle, having satisfied themselves they could satisfy others still thirsting. Delighting deeply in the Great Vehicle, guarding the Great Vehicle — though manifesting a woman's body, they were in truth bodhisattvas — skillfully according with every kind of being in the world, freeing those not yet freed, releasing those not yet released, so that the seed of the Three Jewels would never be cut off, in ages to come they would turn the wheel of the Dharma, adorning themselves with great adornment, firmly upholding the moral precepts, having accomplished every virtue of this kind, giving rise to great compassion for every being, regarding each one equally, without exception, as an only child.

Also in the early morning, as the sun was rising, they said to one another: "Today we too should go to the place between the twin trees." The offerings the upāsikās had prepared surpassed those that came before them twice over; carrying them to where the Buddha was, they bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we have now prepared these offerings for the Buddha and the saṅgha; we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our offering." The Tathāgata remained silent and did not consent. The upāsikās, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrowful longing, and withdrew to sit to one side.

At that time there were also four Ganges-sands of Licchavis from the city of Vaiśālī — men and women, old and young, with their wives and dependents — together with the retinues of the kings of Jambudvīpa, who, for the sake of the Dharma, had cultivated moral conduct well and were fully accomplished in their bearing, and who could subdue any heterodox teacher bent on destroying the true Dharma. They constantly said to one another: "We should give of our own gold and silver treasuries, so that the deathless, inexhaustible true Dharma, this profound and hidden treasury, may long abide in the world. May we be granted to study and practice it always; and should anyone slander the Buddha's true Dharma, let that person's tongue be cut out." They made this vow further: "Should any renunciant break the moral precepts, we will have that person unfrocked and put to labor. Whoever can delight deeply in the true Dharma and uphold it, we will honor and revere as we would our own parents. Should any member of the saṅgha be able to practice the true Dharma, we will rejoice for that person and see that they gain influence." They constantly wished to hear the scriptures of the Great Vehicle, and, once having heard them, could expound them widely to others; all of them had accomplished virtues of this kind. Among them the Licchavi son Vimalagarbha the Pure, the Licchavi son Apramāda the Pure, and the Licchavi son Amalaguṇa of the Ever-Flowing Waters said to one another: "Friends, let us now go quickly to where the Buddha is." The offerings they had prepared were complete in every kind: each Licchavi outfitted eighty-four thousand great elephants, eighty-four thousand jeweled chariots drawn by four horses each, eighty-four thousand bright moon-jewels, and eighty-four thousand bundles each of heavenly incense-wood, sandalwood, and aloeswood. Before each elephant stood a jeweled banner-pole hung with canopies, the smallest canopy a full yojana across, the shortest banner thirty-two yojanas long, the lowest jeweled pole a hundred yojanas high. Bearing offerings of this kind, they went to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we have now prepared these offerings for the Buddha and the saṅgha; we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our offering." The Tathāgata remained silent and did not consent. The Licchavis, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow; by the Buddha's own spiritual power they were raised seven tāla-trees' height above the ground, and remained there suspended in the air, silent.

At that time there were also five Ganges-sands of great ministers and elders, who revered the Great Vehicle and had the strength, should any heterodox teacher slander the true Dharma, to subdue them as hail beats down grass and trees. Among them the elder Sūryaprabha, the elder Lokapāla, and the elder Dharmapāla were foremost. The offerings they had prepared were five times those that came before; together they went to the twin sāla trees, bowed their heads to the Buddha's feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we have now arranged these offerings for the Buddha and the saṅgha; we beg only, out of compassion, that you accept our offering." The Tathāgata remained silent and did not accept it. These elders, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow; by the Buddha's own spiritual power they too were raised seven tāla-trees' height above the ground, and remained there suspended in the air, silent.

At that time there were also — it should read six Ganges-sands of — the king of Vaiśālī and the ladies and dependents of his inner palace, together with every king of Jambudvīpa and their cities, towns, and villages, save only Ajātaśatru. Among them King Candravimala was foremost; each had readied four divisions of troops, wishing to go to where the Buddha was. Each of these kings commanded a retinue of one million eight hundred thousand people. Their chariot-troops were drawn by elephants and horses — elephants with six tusks, horses swift as the wind — and their ceremonial offerings surpassed those before them sixfold; the smallest of their jeweled canopies was a full eight yojanas across, the shortest banner sixteen yojanas, the lowest jeweled pole thirty-six yojanas, and the fragrance of the food they carried spread out over a full four yojanas. Also in the early morning, as the sun was rising, they carried these many fine and wondrous delicacies to the place between the twin trees, to where the Tathāgata was, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we have arranged these offerings for the Buddha and the assembly of monks; we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, likewise did not consent. These kings, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

At that time there were also seven Ganges-sands of royal consorts, save only the consort of King Ajātaśatru, who, in order to save beings, had taken on a woman's body, constantly contemplating the body's conduct and steeping their minds in the dharma of emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness. Among them Queen Trailokyasundarī and Queen Guṇapriyā were foremost. All these royal consorts abided in the true Dharma, practicing the moral precepts, fully accomplished in their bearing, caring for beings as though each were an only child. They said to one another: "We should go now, quickly, to where the World-Honored One is." The offerings these queens prepared surpassed those before them sevenfold — incense, flowers, jeweled banner-poles, silk brocade, canopies, and the finest food and drink; the smallest of their jeweled canopies measured sixteen yojanas across, the shortest banner thirty-six yojanas, the lowest jeweled pole sixty-eight yojanas, and the fragrance of their food and drink spread out over a full eight yojanas. Carrying offerings of this kind to where the Tathāgata was, they bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we have arranged these offerings for the Buddha and the assembly of monks; we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These queens, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow; tearing at their own hair and beating their breasts in loud weeping, like women who have just lost a beloved child, they withdrew to one side, and remained there in silence.

At that time there were also eight Ganges-sands of heavenly goddesses, among whom the goddess Vipulanetrā was foremost, who said: "Sisters, look — look carefully at these many fine and wondrous offerings prepared to honor the Tathāgata and the assembly of monks. We too should prepare offerings just as fine, to make offering to the Tathāgata; once the Tathāgata has accepted them, he will enter parinirvāṇa. Sisters, a buddha's appearance in the world is exceedingly rare, and the chance to make him a final offering rarer still; once the Buddha enters parinirvāṇa, the world will be empty." These goddesses delighted in the Great Vehicle and wished to hear it, and, once having heard it, could expound it widely to others; thirsting after the Great Vehicle, having satisfied themselves they could satisfy others still thirsting, and guarded the Great Vehicle, having the power, should any heterodox teacher hold the Great Vehicle in contempt, to destroy that teaching as hail destroys grass. Upholding the precepts, fully accomplished in their bearing, skillfully according with every kind of being in the world, freeing those not yet freed, releasing those not yet released, in ages to come they would turn the wheel of the Dharma and see that the seed of the Three Jewels was never cut off; studying and practicing the Great Vehicle, adorning themselves with great adornment, they had accomplished immeasurable virtues of this kind, showing the same loving-kindness to every being as to an only child. Also in the early morning, as the sun was rising, each of them gathered every kind of heavenly incense-wood, surpassing in quantity anything found among humans, wood whose fragrance alone could dispel every foulness found in the human world. In white chariots with white canopies, drawn by four white horses, each chariot hung with a white canopy whose four edges bore golden bells, every kind of fragrant flower, jeweled banner-poles and canopies, the finest delicacies, and every kind of music, they set out lion-thrones whose four legs were of pure dark-blue lapis lazuli, behind each throne a couch of the seven treasures, before each throne a golden table, and further set up lamp-trees of the seven treasures bearing every kind of jeweled lamplight, with fine heavenly flowers scattered over the whole ground. Having arranged this offering, these goddesses were overcome with sorrowful feeling, tears streaming down, filled with great anguish. Wishing likewise to benefit and bring peace to beings, to accomplish the Great Vehicle's foremost practice of emptiness, to reveal the Tathāgata's skillful and hidden teaching, and to keep the teaching of the Dharma from ceasing, they went to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These goddesses, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side, sitting there in silence.

At that time there were also nine Ganges-sands of nāga kings dwelling in the four directions, among whom the nāga king Vāsuki, the nāga king Nanda, and the nāga king Upananda were foremost. These nāga kings, also in the early morning as the sun was rising, prepared offerings surpassing those of humans and gods, carried them to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "We beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These nāga kings, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to sit to one side.

At that time there were also ten Ganges-sands of spirit kings, among whom Vaiśravaṇa was foremost, who said to one another: "Friends, let us go quickly now to where the Buddha is." Preparing offerings surpassing those of the nāgas, they carried them to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled him a hundred thousand times, and said to the Buddha: "We beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not consent. These spirit kings, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to sit to one side.

At that time there were also twenty Ganges-sands of garuḍa kings, with the garuḍa king Vairocanavat foremost; thirty Ganges-sands of gandharva kings, with the gandharva king Naradatta foremost; forty Ganges-sands of kinnara kings, with the kinnara king Sudṛṣṭi foremost; fifty Ganges-sands of mahoraga kings, with the mahoraga king Mahāsudṛṣṭi foremost; sixty Ganges-sands of asura kings, with the asura king Śambara foremost; seventy Ganges-sands of dānava kings, with the dānava king Vimalajala and King Bhadradatta foremost; eighty Ganges-sands of rākṣasa kings, with the rākṣasa king Bhīṣaṇa foremost, who had abandoned their cruelty and no longer devoured men, giving rise to compassion even toward those they once hated, and whose forms — once hideous — were, by the Buddha's own spiritual power, made handsome; ninety Ganges-sands of forest-spirit kings, with the forest-spirit king Gandhābhirata foremost; a thousand Ganges-sands of spell-holding kings, with the spell-holding king Mahāmāyā foremost; a hundred million Ganges-sands of desire-clouded demons, with King Sudṛṣṭi foremost; ten billion Ganges-sands of heavenly maidens, with the maiden Lambā, the maiden Utpalā, the maiden Trapuṣā, and the maiden Viśākhā foremost; a trillion Ganges-sands of earth-spirit kings, with the earth-spirit king Avakīrṇa foremost; and a hundred thousand million Ganges-sands of devas, deva-kings, and the four heavenly kings. There were also a hundred thousand million Ganges-sands of wind spirits of the four directions, blowing flowers in and out of season down from the trees to scatter them between the twin sāla trees; and a hundred thousand million Ganges-sands of cloud-and-rain spirits, every one thinking: "When the Tathāgata's body is cremated at his parinirvāṇa, I will pour down rain to quench the flames in time, and bring coolness to the assembly overcome by the heat."

There were also twenty Ganges-sands of great fragrant elephant kings — the elephant king Rāhu, the elephant king Suvarṇa, the elephant king Madhurarasa, the elephant king Añjananetra, and the elephant king Kāmagandha foremost among them — who, revering and delighting in the Great Vehicle and knowing the Buddha would soon enter parinirvāṇa, each gathered countless fine lotus flowers and came to where the Buddha was, bowing their heads to the ground in reverence, and withdrew to one side. There were also twenty Ganges-sands of lion kings among the beasts, with the lion king Siṃhanāda foremost, granters of fearlessness to every being, who brought flowers and fruit to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and withdrew to one side. There were also twenty Ganges-sands of kings among the birds — wild geese, mandarin ducks, peacocks, gandharva-birds, kalandaka-birds, mynahs, parrots, kokila-birds, jīvaṃjīvaka-birds, and kaḷaviṅka-birds, and birds like these — who brought flowers and fruit to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and withdrew to one side. There were also twenty Ganges-sands of water buffalo, cattle, and sheep, who came to where the Buddha was and gave forth fragrant milk, flowing enough to fill every ditch and hollow in the city of Kuśinagara, complete in color, fragrance, and flavor; having done this, they withdrew to one side. There were also twenty Ganges-sands of sages and seers throughout the four continents, with the seer Kṣāntivādin foremost, who brought fragrant flowers and sweet fruit to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, circled the Buddha three times, and said to the Buddha: "We beg only that the World-Honored One, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not consent. These seers, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side. And every bee-king throughout Jambudvīpa, with the bee-king Madhurasvara foremost, brought every kind of flower to where the Buddha was, bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, circled the Buddha once, and withdrew to one side.

At that time every monk and nun throughout Jambudvīpa had gathered, save only the venerable Mahākāśyapa and Ānanda.

There were also, among countless asaṃkhyeya Ganges-sands of worlds and throughout every mountain of Jambudvīpa, with Mount Sumeru foremost, mountains adorned with dense forest, trees flourishing with spreading branches shading the sunlight, every kind of fine flower blooming throughout, and springs and streams pure and fragrant, filled everywhere with devas, nāgas, spirits, gandharvas, asuras, garuḍas, kinnaras, mahoragas, sages skilled in spells, and players of every kind of music. The spirits of these mountains also came to the Buddha, bowed their heads to his feet, and withdrew to one side.

There were also asaṃkhyeya Ganges-sands of spirits of the four great oceans and of every river, of great majestic virtue and great spiritual power, whose offerings surpassed all those before them; the light of their bodies and their music and lamps outshone the sun and moon entirely. Scattering campaka flowers over the Nairañjanā River, they came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and withdrew to one side.

At that time the sāla forest at the city of Kuśinagara turned white, like a flock of white cranes. In the sky above there naturally appeared pavilions of the seven treasures, carved and engraved, brightly adorned, railed all around, inlaid with every kind of jewel. Beneath these pavilions were many flowing springs and bathing pools, filled everywhere with the finest lotus flowers, like the northern continent of Uttarakuru, or like the Garden of Delight in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. The sāla forest all around, adorned in every way, was likewise a scene of the greatest beauty. Every deva, human, and asura who beheld this sign of the Tathāgata's parinirvāṇa was overcome with sorrow, grieving and disconsolate.

At that time the Four Heavenly Kings and Śakra said to one another: "Look — the gods, the people of the world, and the asuras have all prepared great offerings, wishing to make a final offering to the Tathāgata. We too should offer in just this way; if we can be the ones to make the very last offering, the perfection of giving will be fulfilled for us without any difficulty." The offerings the Four Heavenly Kings then prepared surpassed all those before, mandārava and great mandārava flowers, kakāravaka and great kakāravaka flowers, mañjūṣaka and great mañjūṣaka flowers, santānaka and great santānaka flowers, "beloved" and "greatly beloved" flowers, samantabhadra and great samantabhadra flowers, seasonal and great seasonal flowers, "fragrant-city" and "great fragrant-city" flowers, joyful and greatly joyful flowers, desire-arousing and greatly desire-arousing flowers, fragrance-intoxicating and greatly fragrance-intoxicating flowers, universally fragrant and greatly universally fragrant flowers, heavenly golden-leaved flowers, dragon-flowers, pārijāta blossoms, and kovidāra blossoms — and, further bearing every kind of fine delicacy, they came to where the Buddha was and bowed their heads to his feet. The light shining from these gods and their retinues was bright enough to eclipse the sun and moon entirely. With these offerings they wished to honor the Buddha. The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept them. These gods, their wish ungranted, were sorrowful and distressed, and withdrew to one side.

At that time Śakra and the gods of the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven prepared offerings likewise surpassing all those before, their flowers just as fine, their fragrance subtle and altogether delightful; bringing both the Hall of Total Victory and its lesser halls, they came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we delight deeply in the Great Vehicle and cherish it; we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our food." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These gods of Śakra's heaven, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

And so on up through the sixth heaven, each offering surpassing the one before it further still — jeweled banner-poles and canopies, the smallest canopy covering all four continents, the shortest banner encircling the four seas, the lowest banner-pole reaching to the Heaven of Freely Enjoying Others' Creations, a faint breeze stirring the banners to send out a wondrous sound. Bearing the finest delicacies, they came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These gods, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

Up to the very summit of existence, all the remaining hosts of the Brahmā heavens now gathered as well. The Great Brahmā King and the rest of the Brahmā host sent forth from their bodies a light that spread throughout the four continents, so that the light of sun and moon in the desire realm, among humans and gods alike, was entirely eclipsed. Bearing jeweled banner-poles, silk brocade, and canopies, the shortest banner stretching all the way from the Brahmā palace down to the sāla trees, they came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These Brahmā gods, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

At that time the asura king Vemacitra, together with his immeasurable great retinue of asuras, their bodies giving off a light surpassing even the Brahmā heavens, bearing jeweled banner-poles, silk brocade, canopies — the smallest canopy covering a thousand worlds — and the finest delicacies, came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, and said to the Buddha: "We beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. These asuras, their wish ungranted, were filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

At that time Māra Pāpīyas, lord of the desire realm, together with his retinue and the heavenly maidens of his court — an assembly numbering immeasurable, boundless asaṃkhyeyas — threw open the gates of hell and poured out cool, refreshing water, saying to the beings there: "There is nothing more you yourselves can do; you need only fix your minds wholly on the Tathāgata, the Worthy One, the Perfectly Awakened One, and join in this final offering with a rejoicing heart, and you will find ease through the long night to come." Māra Pāpīyas then removed from hell every knife and sword and every measure of agony, and put out the blazing flames with pouring rain. Moved further by the Buddha's own spiritual power, he resolved as well to have all his retinue lay down their swords, bows and arrows, armor and weapons, spears, hooked lances, iron maces, battle-axes, war-discs, and snares. The offerings he then brought surpassed everything offered by every human and god before him, the smallest of his canopies covering a middling-thousand world-system; coming to where the Buddha was, he bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, and said to the Buddha: "We now delight in the Great Vehicle and guard the Great Vehicle. World-Honored One, should any good son or good daughter take up this Great Vehicle for the sake of gain, out of fear, to deceive others, for profit, or merely because someone else insisted — whether their motive be genuine or false — we will, for the sake of such a person, dispel their fear, and speak this spell: 'Ḍākṣi, ṭaṭara-ḍākṣi, lohile, mahālohile, ara, cara, tara, svāhā.' This spell can free anyone who has lost heart, anyone who is afraid, anyone who teaches the Dharma, and anyone who has not abandoned the true Dharma — we speak it in order to subdue heterodox teachers, to protect that person's own body, to protect the true Dharma, and to protect the Great Vehicle. Whoever is able to uphold this spell will have no fear of a savage elephant; journeying through the wilderness, an empty marsh, or dangerous terrain, they will feel no fear, nor will they fear flood or fire, lion or tiger or wolf, bandits, or the danger of kings. World-Honored One, whoever is able to uphold this spell will have every fear of this kind entirely dispelled. World-Honored One, whoever upholds this spell, I myself will protect, the way a tortoise draws in all six of its limbs. World-Honored One, we do not say this now out of flattery; whoever upholds this spell, we will, in all sincerity, add to their strength. We beg only that the Tathāgata, out of compassion, accept our final offering." The Buddha then said to Māra Pāpīyas: "I do not accept your offering of food and drink, but I have already accepted the sacred spell you have spoken, for the sake of bringing peace and happiness to all beings, to the fourfold assembly." Having said this, the Buddha remained silent and did not accept the offering. Though asked three times in this way, he refused every time. Māra Pāpīyas, his wish ungranted, was filled with sorrow, and withdrew to one side.

At that time the great god Maheśvara, together with his immeasurable, boundless retinue and the host of gods with him, brought offerings that eclipsed entirely those of Brahmā, Śakra, the Four Heavenly Kings who guard the world, the eightfold host of gods and men, and every non-human being besides — set beside his, their offerings vanished like a smudge of ink beside a shell of mother-of-pearl. The smallest of his jeweled canopies was able to cover the whole trichiliocosm. Bringing offerings of this kind, he came to where the Buddha was, bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, circled him countless times, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, the paltry offering we present is like a mosquito's tribute brought to me; it is like a single handful of water thrown into the great ocean, a single small lamp added to a hundred thousand suns, a single flower added to the flourishing blossoms of spring and summer, a single mustard seed added to Mount Sumeru — how could such a thing add anything at all to the great ocean, to the light of the sun, to a wealth of flowers, to Mount Sumeru? World-Honored One, the paltry offering I now present is just the same. Even were the whole trichiliocosm filled with incense, flowers, music, and canopies and offered to the Tathāgata, it would still not be enough to speak of. Why is this? Because the Tathāgata, for the sake of every being, forever endures suffering on their behalf within hell, among the hungry ghosts, among the animals, and in every other evil destiny. For this reason, World-Honored One, you should look on us with compassion, and accept our offering."

At that time, in a direction to the east, past worlds as numerous as the motes of dust in incalculable asaṃkhyeya Ganges-sands, there was a buddha-land called Delightful and Beautiful Sound, whose buddha was named Ākāśasama Tathāgata, Worthy One, Perfectly Awakened One, Perfect in Wisdom and Conduct, Well-Gone One, Knower of the World, Peerless Guide, Tamer of Beings, Teacher of Gods and Humans, Buddha, World-Honored One. This buddha said to his foremost great disciple: "Good son, you should now go west to the Sahā world; there is a buddha there named Śākyamuni Tathāgata, Worthy One, Perfectly Awakened One, Perfect in Wisdom and Conduct, Well-Gone One, Knower of the World, Peerless Guide, Tamer of Beings, Teacher of Gods and Humans, Buddha, World-Honored One, who will before long enter parinirvāṇa. Good son, take with you the fragrant rice of this world — its fragrance and flavor bring perfect ease to whoever eats it — and offer this food to that World-Honored One; once he has eaten it, he will enter parinirvāṇa. Good son, pay him homage as well, and ask him to resolve whatever doubts remain."

At that time the bodhisattva-mahāsattva named Boundless Body received this instruction, rose from his seat, bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, circled him three times to the right, and, together with countless asaṃkhyeya bodhisattvas, set out from that land and arrived in this Sahā world. At that very moment, the great earth of this trichiliocosm quaked in six ways. Among the assembly here, Brahmā, Śakra, the Four Heavenly Kings, Māra Pāpīyas, and Maheśvara — all these great beings, seeing the earth quake, felt the hair stand up on their whole bodies, their throats and tongues run dry, and, terrified and trembling, each wished to flee in every direction; they saw their own bodies had lost all light, their majestic virtue entirely extinguished, with nothing left of it at all.

At that moment the Dharma-prince Mañjuśrī rose from his seat and said to the whole assembly: "Good sons, do not be afraid — do not be afraid. Why is this? In a direction to the east, past worlds as numerous as the motes of dust in incalculable asaṃkhyeya Ganges-sands, there is a world called Delightful and Beautiful Sound, whose buddha is named Ākāśasama Tathāgata, Worthy One, Perfectly Awakened One, complete with all ten epithets. There is a bodhisattva there named Boundless Body, who, together with countless bodhisattvas, wishes to come here to make offering to the Tathāgata. It is by that bodhisattva's own majestic power that your own bodies' light has entirely vanished. You should therefore feel joy, and hold no fear." At that moment the whole assembly could see, from far off, that buddha's own assembly, as clearly as seeing their own reflection in a bright mirror.

Mañjuśrī then said further to the assembly: "What you now see of that buddha's assembly is exactly as you now see this Buddha before you. By the Buddha's own spiritual power, you will likewise come to see, in just this way, the immeasurable buddhas of the nine other directions." At that moment the whole assembly said to one another: "How bitter, how bitter! The world is empty — the Tathāgata will before long enter parinirvāṇa."

At that moment the whole assembly could see, in full, the bodhisattva Boundless Body together with his retinue. From every single pore of this bodhisattva's body there sprang forth a great lotus flower, and within every lotus flower were seventy-eight thousand cities, each equal in size to the city of Vaiśālī, its walls and moats inlaid throughout with the seven treasures, lined with seven rows of jeweled tāla trees, its people thriving, at ease, and prosperous, its ramparts made of Jambūnada gold, each rampart adorned with every kind of the seven treasures, its groves and flowering trees flourishing, a faint breeze stirring them to send out a subtle, harmonious sound like heavenly music. The people of these cities, on hearing this sound, at once experienced the finest happiness. These moats were filled with fine water, pure and fragrant as true lapis lazuli, and upon this water floated boats of the seven treasures, on which people rode about, bathing and playing together, in boundless delight. There were also countless lotus flowers of every color — blue, red, white, and the great white lotus — each as broad as a chariot wheel. On the banks of these moats were many gardens, each garden with five springs and pools, and within these pools further lotus flowers of every color, each as broad as a chariot wheel, richly fragrant and entirely delightful. The water there was pure, soft, and of the finest quality, and wild geese and mandarin ducks played upon it. Each garden had jeweled palaces, every palace exactly four yojanas across, its walls made of the four treasures — gold, silver, lapis lazuli, and crystal — with railings of true gold running all around, its ground of rose-colored gems overlaid with golden sand. Within these palaces were many flowing springs and bathing pools of the seven treasures, each pool with eighteen golden steps leading down to it, and plantain trees of Jambūnada gold, just like the Garden of Delight in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven. Each of these cities had eighty-four thousand human kings, and each king had countless queens and court ladies, delighting together in joy and pleasure; the rest of the people likewise delighted together, each in their own dwelling. The beings there heard no name at all besides the sound of the peerless Great Vehicle. Within each of these lotus flowers stood a lion-throne, its four legs of dark-blue lapis lazuli, spread over with a soft white garment finer than anything found in the three realms; on each throne sat a king, teaching beings with the Dharma of the Great Vehicle, and some beings there copied, upheld, read, and recited it, practicing as it taught, so that the scriptures of the Great Vehicle spread everywhere. The bodhisattva Boundless Body, having settled these countless beings and led them to give up worldly pleasure, made them all say together: "How bitter, how bitter! The world is empty — the Tathāgata will before long enter parinirvāṇa."

The bodhisattva Boundless Body, surrounded on every side by countless bodhisattvas, having manifested this display of spiritual power, then brought forward every kind of countless offering, together with the finest and most fragrant food and drink — anyone who so much as caught the scent of this food had every affliction and defilement wiped away entirely. By this bodhisattva's own spiritual power, the whole assembly was able to see this entire transformation. The bodhisattva Boundless Body's own body was vast and without limit, equal in measure to space itself; save for the buddhas, no one else could perceive the outer limit of this bodhisattva's body. The bodhisattva Boundless Body and his retinue then brought offerings surpassing all those before, came to where the Buddha was, bowed their heads to his feet, joined their palms in reverence, and said to the Buddha: "World-Honored One, we beg only that you, out of compassion, accept our food." The Tathāgata, knowing the time had not come, remained silent and did not accept it. Though asked three times in this way, he refused every time. The bodhisattva Boundless Body and his retinue then withdrew to one side.

From the buddha-worlds of the south, west, and north there likewise came countless bodhisattvas named Boundless Body, bearing offerings surpassing all those before them, coming to where the Buddha was and withdrawing to one side in just the same way.

At that time the auspicious ground between the twin sāla trees, thirty-two yojanas across, was filled entirely with the assembly, without a single empty space remaining.

At that time the places where the bodhisattvas Boundless Body from the four directions and their retinues had taken their seats were pressed so close together they were like the point of an awl, the tip of a needle, a mote of dust — and yet every great bodhisattva from buddha-worlds as numerous as motes of dust throughout the ten directions had come and gathered there, together with the whole assembly of Jambudvīpa, all likewise gathered — save only the venerable Mahākāśyapa and Ānanda, and King Ajātaśatru and his retinue. Even venomous snakes, dung beetles whose gaze alone can kill, vipers and scorpions, and beings who commit the sixteen kinds of evil deed — every one of them had come and gathered there. The dānava spirits and the asuras had all abandoned their malice and given rise to loving-kindness, regarding one another as father, mother, elder sister, younger sister; and every being throughout the trichiliocosm turned toward every other with this same loving-kindness — every being, that is, except the icchantika.

At that time, throughout the trichiliocosm, by the Buddha's own spiritual power, the ground everywhere became soft, free of hills, dust, gravel, thorns, and poisonous plants, adorned throughout with every kind of jewel, just like Amitāyus's own Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss in the west. At that moment the whole assembly could see every buddha-world throughout the ten directions, as numerous as motes of dust, as clearly as seeing their own reflection in a bright mirror, and saw that every one of these buddha-lands appeared in just this same way.

At that time the five-colored light streaming from the Tathāgata's face shone so brightly that it eclipsed the light of every being in the whole assembly, until, its work accomplished, it withdrew back into his mouth. When the devas, humans, and every being in the assembly, the asuras among them, saw the Buddha's light return into his mouth, they were seized with great terror, the hair standing up on their bodies, and they said to one another: "The Tathāgata's light, having gone out, has now returned — this cannot be without a reason. He must have accomplished everything he needed to throughout the ten directions, and this must be the last sign before his final parinirvāṇa. How bitter this is, how bitter! What can we do? The World-Honored One is about to cast aside the four immeasurable minds all at once, and will no longer accept the offerings of humans and gods; the sun of holy wisdom is about to be extinguished forever, and the peerless ship of the Dharma is about to sink beneath the waves. Ah, how painful — this is the great suffering of the world." Raising their hands, they beat their breasts, wailing and weeping aloud, their limbs shaking so violently they could not steady themselves, and blood flowed from every pore of their bodies, spattering the ground.