Six Modest Gifts
This page carries the first six poems of the Therī-apadāna's second chapter, the Ekūposathikavagga — six senior nuns, each recounting a single modest act: a fast-day kept, a flower gathered, three dumplings given, a seat set out in the noon heat. This chapter's remaining four poems — the biographies of Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī, Khemā, Uppalavaṇṇā, and Paṭācārā — are each far longer than anything in this chapter so far, and will follow as a separate page.
Translation Method
The Pāli source is the Mahāsaṅgīti Tipiṭaka (Buddhavasse 2500 edition), checked against its recorded variants from the Burmese, Sinhalese, and Pali Text Society editions for internal consistency, in the same manner as this site's Sumedhāvagga page. The English translation is Ru-Yi's own, made directly from the Pāli. No existing English translation of the Apadāna — including Jonathan S. Walters' 2017 translation, which remains in copyright — was consulted, paraphrased, or used as a guide.
Two of the six poems on this page (15 and 16) are near-duplicates of poems already translated in the Sumedhāvagga (9 and 5 respectively) — a known feature of this genre, where the same devotional narrative recurs, with only small wording variations, attributed to different narrators across the collection. Both are translated here in full from their own text on this page, not copied from the earlier page, and the reading notes say plainly where they overlap.
11. Kept a Single Fast-Day
Ekūposathikātherīapadāna — a slave-girl, moved by seeing even the king observe a single fast-day, keeps one herself.
"Nagare Bandhumatiyā, Bandhumā nāma khattiyo;
divase puṇṇamāya so, upavasi uposathaṁ.
Ahaṁ tena samayena, kumbhadāsī ahaṁ tahiṁ;
disvā sarājakaṁ senaṁ, evāhaṁ cintayiṁ tadā.
'Rājāpi rajjaṁ chaḍḍetvā, upavasi uposathaṁ;
saphalaṁ nūna taṁ kammaṁ, janakāyo pamodito'.
Yoniso paccavekkhitvā, duggaccañca daliddataṁ;
mānasaṁ sampahaṁsitvā, upavasiṁ uposathaṁ.
Ahaṁ uposathaṁ katvā, sammāsambuddhasāsane;
tena kammena sukatena, tāvatiṁsamagacchahaṁ.
Tattha me sukataṁ byamhaṁ, ubbhayojanamuggataṁ;
kūṭāgāravarūpetaṁ, mahāsanasubhūsitaṁ.
Accharā satasahassā, upatiṭṭhanti maṁ sadā;
aññe deve atikkamma, atirocāmi sabbadā.
Catusaṭṭhi devarājūnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ;
tesaṭṭhi cakkavattīnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ.
Suvaṇṇavaṇṇā hutvāna, bhavesu saṁsarāmahaṁ;
sabbattha pavarā homi, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Hatthiyānaṁ assayānaṁ, rathayānañca sīvikaṁ;
labhāmi sabbamevetaṁ, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Soṇṇamayaṁ rūpimayaṁ, athopi phalikāmayaṁ;
lohitaṅgamayañceva, sabbaṁ paṭilabhāmahaṁ.
Koseyyakambaliyāni, khomakappāsikāni ca;
mahagghāni ca vatthāni, sabbaṁ paṭilabhāmahaṁ.
Annaṁ pānaṁ khādanīyaṁ, vatthasenāsanāni ca;
sabbametaṁ paṭilabhe, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Varagandhañca mālañca, cuṇṇakañca vilepanaṁ;
sabbametaṁ paṭilabhe, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Kūṭāgārañca pāsādaṁ, maṇḍapaṁ hammiyaṁ guhaṁ;
sabbametaṁ paṭilabhe, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Jātiyā sattavassāhaṁ, pabbajiṁ anagāriyaṁ;
aḍḍhamāse asampatte, arahattamapāpuṇiṁ.
Kilesā jhāpitā mayhaṁ, bhavā sabbe samūhatā;
sabbāsavā parikkhīṇā, natthi dāni punabbhavo.
Ekanavutito kappe, yaṁ kammamakariṁ tadā;
duggatiṁ nābhijānāmi, uposathassidaṁ phalaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Ekūposathikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Ekūposathikātheriyāpadānaṁ paṭhamaṁ.
"In the city of Bandhumatī, there was a noble named Bandhumā; on the day of the full moon, he observed the fast-day.
At that time I was there, a water-jar slave-girl; seeing the army together with the king, I thought this then:
'Even the king, setting aside his kingdom, observes the fast-day; surely that deed bears fruit — the people are delighted.'
Having reflected carefully on my own wretchedness and poverty, having gladdened my own mind, I too observed the fast-day.
Having kept the fast-day within the dispensation of the Fully Awakened One, by that well-done deed, I went to the Thirty-Three.
There, a well-made mansion of mine rose a league high, furnished with a fine turreted chamber, adorned with a great seat.
A hundred thousand nymphs always attend me; surpassing the other gods, I always outshine them.
I became chief queen of sixty-four god-kings; I became chief queen of sixty-three wheel-turning monarchs.
With a golden complexion, I wandered through states of existence; everywhere I am foremost — this is the fruit of the fast-day.
Elephant-carriages, horse-carriages, chariots, and a palanquin — I obtain all of these — this is the fruit of the fast-day.
Ornaments of gold, of silver, and also of crystal, and of ruby too — I obtain all of them.
Silk and woolen garments, linen and cotton ones, and costly garments — I obtain all of them.
Food, drink, things to eat, garments and lodgings — I obtain all of these — this is the fruit of the fast-day.
Fine perfume and garlands, powder and ointment — I obtain all of these — this is the fruit of the fast-day.
A turreted chamber, a mansion, a pavilion, a multi-storied building, a cave — I obtain all of these — this is the fruit of the fast-day.
At seven years of age, I went forth into homelessness; before half a month had passed, I attained arahantship.
My defilements are burned away; every state of existence is demolished; all defilements are exhausted; there is now no further existence.
Ninety-one eons ago, when I did that deed then, I have not known a bad rebirth — this is the fruit of the fast-day."
Thus indeed did the nun Ekūposathikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Ekūposathikā, the first.
the fast-day observance — traditionally kept on the new-moon, full-moon, and quarter-moon days, involving additional precepts including abstaining from food after noon; the entire poem turns on this one day's practice.
a water-jar slave-girl — the same low social position as the giver in the Sumedhāvagga's tenth poem; this chapter opens on the same note the first chapter closed on.
The gap between cause and result is unusually stark here: a single day's fast, kept once, against fifty pages of accumulated fortune and arahantship attained before she was even seven and a half years old. The poem itself seems aware of the disproportion — it spends far more verses cataloguing the reward (carriages, jewelry, cloth, perfume, buildings) than describing the deed, as if daring the reader to object that the exchange rate looks too generous.
12. The Pine-Flower-Giver
Saḷalapupphikātherīapadāna — another kinnarī, another flower, this time offered to the Buddha Vipassī as he paces in walking meditation.
"Candabhāgānadītīre, ahosiṁ kinnarī tadā;
addasāhaṁ devadevaṁ, caṅkamantaṁ narāsabhaṁ.
Ocinitvāna saḷalaṁ, buddhaseṭṭhassadāsahaṁ;
upasiṅghi mahāvīro, saḷalaṁ devagandhikaṁ.
Paṭiggahetvā sambuddho, Vipassī lokanāyako;
upasiṅghi mahāvīro, pekkhamānāya me tadā.
Añjaliṁ paggahetvāna, vanditvā dvipaduttamaṁ;
sakaṁ cittaṁ pasādetvā, tato pabbatamāruhiṁ.
Ekanavutito kappe, yaṁ pupphamadadiṁ tadā;
duggatiṁ nābhijānāmi, buddhapūjāyidaṁ phalaṁ.
Kilesā jhāpitā mayhaṁ, …pe… viharāmi anāsavā.
Svāgataṁ vata me āsi, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ.
Paṭisambhidā catasso, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Saḷalapupphikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Saḷalapupphikātheriyāpadānaṁ dutiyaṁ.
"On the bank of the river Candabhāgā, I was then a kinnarī; I saw the god of gods, the bull among men, walking back and forth in meditation.
Having gathered a pine-flower, I gave it to the best of Buddhas; the great hero smelled the pine-flower with its heavenly fragrance.
Having received it, the Fully Awakened One Vipassī, guide of the world — the great hero smelled it, while I looked on.
Raising my joined palms in reverence, having paid homage to the best of two-footed beings, gaining confidence of my own mind, I then climbed the mountain.
Ninety-one eons ago, when I gave that flower then — I have not known a bad rebirth; this is the fruit of honoring the Buddha."
My defilements are burned away… the Buddha's teaching has been carried out. (closing formula as given in full in the Sumedhāvagga's first poem)
Thus indeed did the nun Saḷalapupphikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Saḷalapupphikā, the second.
a conifer of the pine or fir family, valued in Pāli literature for its fragrant resin — here specifically its flower, small enough to be an ordinary wildflower a passerby might simply pick up.
to pace back and forth — walking meditation, one of the four traditional postures (alongside standing, sitting, and lying down) in which mindfulness is said to be equally practicable.
13. The Sweet-Dumpling-Giver
Modakadāyikātherīapadāna — the chapter's shortest poem: three sweet dumplings, given to a meditating ascetic met on the road.
"Nagare Bandhumatiyā, kumbhadāsī ahosahaṁ;
mama bhāgaṁ gahetvāna, gacchaṁ udakahārikā.
Panthamhi samaṇaṁ disvā, santacittaṁ samāhitaṁ;
pasannacittā sumanā, modake tīṇidāsahaṁ.
Tena kammena sukatena, cetanāpaṇidhīhi ca;
ekanavutikappāni, vinipātaṁ nagacchahaṁ.
Sampatti taṁ karitvāna, sabbaṁ anubhaviṁ ahaṁ;
modake tīṇi datvāna, pattāhaṁ acalaṁ padaṁ.
Kilesā jhāpitā mayhaṁ, …pe… viharāmi anāsavā.
Svāgataṁ vata me āsi, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ.
Paṭisambhidā catasso, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Modakadāyikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Modakadāyikātheriyāpadānaṁ tatiyaṁ.
"In the city of Bandhumatī, I was a water-jar slave-girl; taking my portion, I would go as a water-carrier.
Seeing on the road an ascetic, his mind peaceful and composed, with a confident, glad mind, I gave three sweet dumplings.
By that well-done deed, and by my intention and resolve, for ninety-one eons I did not go to a bad rebirth.
Having brought about that fortune, I experienced it all; having given three sweet dumplings, I attained the unshakeable state."
My defilements are burned away… the Buddha's teaching has been carried out. (closing formula as in Poem 1 of the Sumedhāvagga)
Thus indeed did the nun Modakadāyikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Modakadāyikā, the third.
a sweet dumpling — an ordinary, everyday food, not a luxury item; the smallness of the gift is exactly the point this poem shares with the Sumedhāvagga's water-giver.
14. The One-Seat-Giver
Ekāsanadāyikātherīapadāna — a child, left alone while her parents work, sets out a seat and speaks her own words of invitation to a passing ascetic.
"Nagare Haṁsavatiyā, ahosiṁ bālikā tadā;
mātā ca me pitā ceva, kammantaṁ agamaṁsu te.
Majjhanhikamhi sūriye, addasaṁ samaṇaṁ ahaṁ;
vīthiyā anugacchantaṁ, āsanaṁ paññapesahaṁ.
Gonakāvikatikāhi, paññapetvā mamāsanaṁ;
pasannacittā sumanā, idaṁ vacanamabraviṁ.
'Santattā kuthitā bhūmi, sūro majjhanhike ṭhito;
mālutā ca na vāyanti, kālo cevettha mehiti.
Paññattamāsanamidaṁ, tavatthāya mahāmuni;
anukampaṁ upādāya, nisīda mama āsane'.
Nisīdi tattha samaṇo, sudanto suddhamānaso;
tassa pattaṁ gahetvāna, yathārandhaṁ adāsahaṁ.
Tena kammena sukatena, cetanāpaṇidhīhi ca;
jahitvā mānusaṁ dehaṁ, tāvatiṁsamagacchahaṁ.
Tattha me sukataṁ byamhaṁ, āsanena sunimmitaṁ;
saṭṭhiyojanamubbedhaṁ, tiṁsayojanavitthataṁ.
Soṇṇamayā maṇimayā, athopi phalikāmayā;
lohitaṅgamayā ceva, pallaṅkā vividhā mama.
Tūlikāvikatikāhi, kaṭṭissacittakāhi ca;
uddaekantalomī ca, pallaṅkā me susaṇṭhitā.
Yadā icchāmi gamanaṁ, hāsakhiḍḍasamappitā;
saha pallaṅkaseṭṭhena, gacchāmi mama patthitaṁ.
Asīti devarājūnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ;
sattati cakkavattīnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ.
Bhavābhave saṁsarantī, mahābhogaṁ labhāmahaṁ;
bhoge me ūnatā natthi, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Duve bhave saṁsarāmi, devatte atha mānuse;
aññe bhave na jānāmi, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Duve kule pajāyāmi, khattiye cāpi brāhmaṇe;
uccākulīnā sabbattha, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Domanassaṁ na jānāmi, cittasantāpanaṁ mama;
vevaṇṇiyaṁ na jānāmi, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Dhātiyo maṁ upaṭṭhanti, khujjā celāpikā bahū;
aṅkena aṅkaṁ gacchāmi, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Aññā nhāpenti bhojenti, aññā ramenti maṁ sadā;
aññā gandhaṁ vilimpanti, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ.
Maṇḍape rukkhamūle vā, suññāgāre vasantiyā;
mama saṅkappamaññāya, pallaṅko upatiṭṭhati.
Ayaṁ pacchimako mayhaṁ, carimo vattate bhavo;
ajjāpi rajjaṁ chaḍḍetvā, pabbajiṁ anagāriyaṁ.
Satasahassito kappe, yaṁ dānamadadiṁ tadā;
duggatiṁ nābhijānāmi, ekāsanassidaṁ phalaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Ekāsanadāyikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Ekāsanadāyikātheriyāpadānaṁ catutthaṁ.
"In the city of Haṁsavatī, I was then a young girl; my mother and father had gone off to their work.
With the sun at midday, I saw an ascetic walking along the street, and I set out a seat for him.
Having spread my seat with woolen rugs of various kinds, with a confident, glad mind, I said this:
'The ground is scorched and boiling, the sun stands at midday; no breezes blow, and it is just the time for me [to offer this].
This seat has been set out for your sake, great sage; out of compassion, please sit on my seat.'
The ascetic sat down there, well-tamed, pure of mind; taking his bowl, I gave him food just as it had been cooked.
By that well-done deed, and by my intention and resolve, having left the human body, I went to the Thirty-Three.
There, a well-made mansion of mine was fashioned from the merit of that seat, sixty leagues in height, thirty leagues across.
Couches of mine, of many kinds — of gold, of jewels, and also of crystal, and of ruby too.
Spread with cotton coverlets, and ones patterned with fine cloth, and soft fur-edged ones — my couches are well arranged.
Whenever I wish to travel, given over to joy and play, together with my finest couch, I go wherever I wish.
I became chief queen of eighty god-kings; I became chief queen of seventy wheel-turning monarchs.
Wandering from one existence to another, I obtain great wealth; there is no lack in my wealth — this is the fruit of that one seat.
I wander through only two states of existence, the divine and the human; I know no other existence — this is the fruit of that one seat.
I am born into only two kinds of families, noble or brahmin; of high family everywhere — this is the fruit of that one seat.
I know no displeasure, no distress of mind; I know no ugliness — this is the fruit of that one seat.
Nurses attend me — many hunchbacked ones, and maidservants; I pass from lap to lap — this is the fruit of that one seat.
Some bathe me and feed me, others always entertain me; others anoint me with perfume — this is the fruit of that one seat.
In a pavilion, or at the foot of a tree, as I dwell in an empty place, knowing my intention, a couch appears for me.
This is my last existence, my final one, now unfolding; even in this life, setting aside a kingdom, I went forth into homelessness.
A hundred thousand eons ago, when I gave that gift then — I have not known a bad rebirth; this is the fruit of that one seat."
Thus indeed did the nun Ekāsanadāyikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Ekāsanadāyikā, the fourth.
midday, the noon hour — specified for a reason: the heat and the ascetic's exposed walk in it are exactly what her improvised seat and short speech address.
a nurse or wet-nurse — one of several attendant-classes (with maidservants) listed among her heavenly retinue, a domestic image scaled up from the ordinary household she was born a child into.
This poem is unusual in this collection for giving the young narrator actual quoted speech — five lines of her own invitation, explaining exactly why she has set out the seat, rather than the bare narration most of the shorter poems use. It reads less like a formula applied to a nameless donor and more like an eyewitness account of one specific, remembered afternoon.
15. The Five-Lamp-Giver
Pañcadīpadāyikātherīapadāna — a near-duplicate of the Sumedhāvagga's ninth poem, attributed here to a different narrator with only small wording variations.
"Nagare Haṁsavatiyā, cārikī āsahaṁ tadā;
ārāmena ca ārāmaṁ, carāmi kusalatthikā.
Kāḷapakkhamhi divase, addasaṁ bodhimuttamaṁ;
tattha cittaṁ pasādetvā, bodhimūle nisīdahaṁ.
Garucittaṁ upaṭṭhetvā, sire katvāna añjaliṁ;
somanassaṁ pavedetvā, evaṁ cintesi tāvade.
'Yadi buddho amitaguṇo, asamappaṭipuggalo;
dassetu pāṭihīraṁ me, bodhi obhāsatu ayaṁ'.
Saha āvajjite mayhaṁ, bodhi pajjali tāvade;
sabbasoṇṇamayā āsi, disā sabbā virocati.
Sattarattindivaṁ tattha, bodhimūle nisīdahaṁ;
sattame divase patte, dīpapūjaṁ akāsahaṁ.
Āsanaṁ parivāretvā, pañca dīpāni pajjaluṁ;
yāva udeti sūriyo, dīpā me pajjaluṁ tadā.
Tena kammena sukatena, cetanāpaṇidhīhi ca;
jahitvā mānusaṁ dehaṁ, tāvatiṁsamagacchahaṁ.
Tattha me sukataṁ byamhaṁ, pañcadīpāti vuccati;
saṭṭhiyojanamubbedhaṁ, tiṁsayojanavitthataṁ.
Asaṅkhiyāni dīpāni, parivāre jaliṁsu me;
yāvatā devabhavanaṁ, dīpālokena jotati.
Parammukhā nisīditvā, yadi icchāmi passituṁ;
uddhaṁ adho ca tiriyaṁ, sabbaṁ passāmi cakkhunā.
Yāvatā abhikaṅkhāmi, daṭṭhuṁ sugataduggate;
tattha āvaraṇaṁ natthi, rukkhesu pabbatesu vā.
Asīti devarājūnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ;
satānaṁ cakkavattīnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ.
Yaṁ yaṁ yonupapajjāmi, devattaṁ atha mānusaṁ;
dīpasatasahassāni, parivāre jalanti me.
Devalokā cavitvāna, uppajjiṁ mātukucchiyaṁ;
mātukucchigatā santī, akkhi me na nimīlati.
Dīpasatasahassāni, puññakammasamaṅgitā;
jalanti sūtikāgehe, pañcadīpānidaṁ phalaṁ.
Pacchime bhave sampatte, mānasaṁ vinivattayiṁ;
ajarāmataṁ sītibhāvaṁ, nibbānaṁ phassayiṁ ahaṁ.
Jātiyā sattavassāhaṁ, arahattamapāpuṇiṁ;
upasampādayī buddho, guṇamaññāya Gotamo.
Maṇḍape rukkhamūle vā, suññāgāre vasantiyā;
sadā pajjalate dīpaṁ, pañcadīpānidaṁ phalaṁ.
Dibbacakkhuvisuddhaṁ me, samādhikusalā ahaṁ;
abhiññāpāramippattā, pañcadīpānidaṁ phalaṁ.
Sabbavositavosānā, katakiccā anāsavā;
Pañcadīpā mahāvīra, pāde vandāmi cakkhuma.
Satasahassito kappe, yaṁ dīpamadadiṁ tadā;
duggatiṁ nābhijānāmi, pañcadīpānidaṁ phalaṁ.
Kilesā jhāpitā mayhaṁ, …pe… viharāmi anāsavā.
Svāgataṁ vata me āsi, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ.
Paṭisambhidā catasso, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Pañcadīpadāyikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Pañcadīpadāyikātheriyāpadānaṁ pañcamaṁ.
"In the city of Haṁsavatī, I was then a wanderer; from park to park I roamed, in search of what is wholesome.
On a day of the waning moon, I saw the supreme Bodhi tree; gaining confidence of mind there, I sat at its foot.
Settling into a reverent mind, raising my joined palms to my head, expressing my joy, I thought this at that moment:
'If the Buddha, of immeasurable virtue, the peerless person — let him show me a wonder: let this Bodhi tree shine forth.'
As soon as I had reflected this, the Bodhi tree blazed up at that very moment; it became entirely made of gold; every direction shone with its light.
For seven days and nights I sat there at the foot of the Bodhi tree; when the seventh day came, I made an offering of lamps.
Surrounding my seat, five lamps blazed; until the sun rose, my lamps went on blazing.
By that well-done deed, and by my intention and resolve, having left the human body, I went to the Thirty-Three.
There, a well-made mansion of mine is called "Five Lamps" — sixty leagues in height, thirty leagues across.
Countless lamps burned around me there; as far as the god-realm extends, it shines with the light of lamps.
Sitting facing away, if I wish to see, I see everything with my own eye — above, below, and across.
As far as I wish to see beings in their good and bad destinations, nothing obstructs it — not trees, not mountains.
I became chief queen of eighty god-kings; I became chief queen of a hundred wheel-turning monarchs.
Whatever womb I was reborn into, whether divine or human, a hundred thousand lamps burn around me.
Passing from the god-world, I was conceived in a mother's womb; and while I lay in that womb, my eyes never closed.
A hundred thousand lamps, in keeping with my store of merit, blazed in the very room where I was born — this is the fruit of the five lamps.
Having arrived at my final existence, I turned my mind away from craving; I touched Nibbāna — the ageless, the deathless, the state of coolness.
At seven years of age I attained arahantship; the Buddha Gotama, recognizing my qualities, gave me full ordination.
In a pavilion, or at the foot of a tree, wherever I dwell in an empty place, a lamp always blazes for me — this is the fruit of the five lamps.
My divine eye is purified; I am skilled in concentration; having reached the very peak of the direct-knowledges — this is the fruit of the five lamps.
Every task completed, my work done, free of defilements — "Five Lamps," great hero, I bow to your feet, you who have vision.
A hundred thousand eons ago, when I made that lamp-offering then — I have not known a bad rebirth; this is the fruit of the five lamps."
My defilements are burned away… the Buddha's teaching has been carried out. (closing formula as in Poem 1 of the Sumedhāvagga)
Thus indeed did the nun Pañcadīpadāyikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Pañcadīpadāyikā, the fifth.
This poem is, word for word in almost every line, the same narrative already translated as Poem 9 of the Sumedhāvagga ("Pañcadīpikā," the Five-Lamp-Giver): the same city, the same blazing Bodhi tree, the same "Five Lamps" mansion, the same detail of eyes not closing in the womb, the same arahantship at age seven. The two poems' titles differ by only a suffix (-ikā versus -adāyikā), and a handful of individual lines vary in minor, inconsequential ways (a tense here, a synonym there). This is a known feature of the Apadāna as a genre — a large, formulaic collection compiled from material that was never fully harmonized into a single continuous narrative — and this page has chosen to translate the poem in full from its own text here, rather than silently note "see above" and skip it, since the small variations are themselves part of an honest record of the text.
16. The Reed-Garland-Giver
Naḷamālikātherīapadāna — a second near-duplicate, this one of the Sumedhāvagga's fifth poem.
"Candabhāgānadītīre, ahosiṁ kinnarī tadā;
addasaṁ virajaṁ buddhaṁ, sayambhuṁ aparājitaṁ.
Pasannacittā sumanā, vedajātā katañjalī;
naḷamālaṁ gahetvāna, sayambhuṁ abhipūjayiṁ.
Tena kammena sukatena, cetanāpaṇidhīhi ca;
jahitvā kinnarīdehaṁ, tāvatiṁsamagacchahaṁ.
Chattiṁsadevarājūnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ;
manasā patthitaṁ mayhaṁ, nibbattati yathicchitaṁ.
Dasannaṁ cakkavattīnaṁ, mahesittamakārayiṁ;
ocitattāva hutvāna, saṁsarāmi bhavesvahaṁ.
Kusalaṁ vijjate mayhaṁ, pabbajiṁ anagāriyaṁ;
pūjārahā ahaṁ ajja, sakyaputtassa sāsane.
Visuddhamanasā ajja, apetamanapāpikā;
sabbāsavā parikkhīṇā, natthi dāni punabbhavo.
Catunnavutito kappe, yaṁ buddhamabhipūjayiṁ;
duggatiṁ nābhijānāmi, naḷamālāyidaṁ phalaṁ.
Kilesā jhāpitā mayhaṁ, …pe… viharāmi anāsavā.
Svāgataṁ vata me āsi, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ.
Paṭisambhidā catasso, …pe… kataṁ buddhassa sāsanaṁ".
Itthaṁ sudaṁ Naḷamālikā bhikkhunī imā gāthāyo abhāsitthāti.
Naḷamālikātheriyāpadānaṁ chaṭṭhaṁ.
"On the bank of the river Candabhāgā, I was then a kinnarī; I saw the stainless Buddha, the self-existent one, the unconquered.
With a mind full of confidence, glad-hearted, filled with joy, hands raised in reverence, I took a garland of reeds and honored the self-existent one.
By that well-done deed, and by my intention and resolve, having left the kinnarī body, I went to the Thirty-Three.
I became chief queen of thirty-six god-kings; whatever I wished for in my mind arose just as I desired.
I became chief queen of ten wheel-turning monarchs; having accumulated merit, I wandered on through states of existence.
Good is found in me; I went forth into homelessness; today I am worthy of veneration within the Sakyan son's dispensation.
Today, with a purified mind, my mind free from evil, all defilements are exhausted; there is now no further existence.
Ninety-four eons ago, when I honored the Buddha with that flower — I have not known a bad rebirth; this is the fruit of the reed garland."
My defilements are burned away… the Buddha's teaching has been carried out. (closing formula as in Poem 1 of the Sumedhāvagga)
Thus indeed did the nun Naḷamālikā speak these verses.
The past-life account of the Therī Naḷamālikā, the sixth.
Like Poem 15, this poem shares its core narrative — a kinnarī on the bank of the Candabhāgā, a reed garland, a self-existent Buddha — almost word for word with Poem 5 of the Sumedhāvagga, also titled Naḷamālikā. The going-forth stanza differs in wording from the earlier version (this one omits the earlier poem's detail of being "stirred to a sense of urgency" before going forth), but the underlying story is the same offering, attributed here for a second time.