SN 4.24 Seven Years of Pursuit

Reference Translation by Bhikkhu Sujato (CC0).

Evaṁ me sutaṁ—

So I have heard.

ekaṁ samayaṁ bhagavā uruvelāyaṁ viharati najjā nerañjarāya tīre ajapālanigrodhe.

At one time the Buddha was staying in Uruvelā at the goatherd’s banyan tree on the bank of the Nerañjarā River.

Tena kho pana samayena māro pāpimā sattavassāni bhagavantaṁ anubandho hoti otārāpekkho otāraṁ alabhamāno.

Now at that time Māra the Wicked had been pursuing the Buddha for seven years hoping to find a vulnerability without success.

Atha kho māro pāpimā yena bhagavā tenupasaṅkami; upasaṅkamitvā bhagavantaṁ gāthāya ajjhabhāsi:

Then Māra the Wicked went up to the Buddha and addressed him in verse:

“Sokāvatiṇṇo nu vanamhi jhāyasi,

“Are you swamped by sorrow that you meditate in the forest?

Vittaṁ nu jīno uda patthayāno;

Have you lost a fortune, or do you long for one?

Āguṁ nu gāmasmimakāsi kiñci,

Or perhaps you’ve committed some crime in the village?

Kasmā janena na karosi sakkhiṁ;

Why don’t you get too close to people?

Sakkhī na sampajjati kenaci te”ti.

And why does no-one get close to you?”

“Sokassa mūlaṁ palikhāya sabbaṁ,

“I’ve dug out the root of sorrow completely.

Anāgu jhāyāmi asocamāno;

I practice absorption free of guilt or sorrow.

Chetvāna sabbaṁ bhavalobhajappaṁ,

I’ve cut off all greed and muttered prayer for future lives.

Anāsavo jhāyāmi pamattabandhū”ti.

Undefiled, I practice absorption, O kinsman of the negligent!”

“Yaṁ vadanti mama yidanti,

“The things they call ‘mine’,

ye vadanti mamanti ca;

and those who say ‘it’s mine’:

Ettha ce te mano atthi,

if your mind remains there,

na me samaṇa mokkhasī”ti.

you won’t escape me, ascetic!”

“Yaṁ vadanti na taṁ mayhaṁ,

“The things they speak of aren’t mine;

ye vadanti na te ahaṁ;

I’m not someone who speaks like that.

Evaṁ pāpima jānāhi,

So know this, Wicked One:

na me maggampi dakkhasī”ti.

you won’t even see the path I take.”

“Sace maggaṁ anubuddhaṁ,

“If you’ve discovered the path

khemaṁ amatagāminaṁ;

that’s safe, and leads to freedom from death,

Apehi gaccha tvameveko,

go and walk that path alone—

kimaññamanusāsasī”ti.

why teach it to anyone else?”

“Amaccudheyyaṁ pucchanti,

“Those crossing to the far shore

ye janā pāragāmino;

ask what’s beyond the domain of Death.

Tesāhaṁ puṭṭho akkhāmi,

When I’m asked, I explain to them

yaṁ saccaṁ taṁ nirūpadhin”ti.

the truth without attachments.”

“Seyyathāpi, bhante, gāmassa vā nigamassa vā avidūre pokkharaṇī.

“Sir, suppose there was a lotus pond not far from a town or village,

Tatrassa kakkaṭako.

and a crab lived there.

Atha kho, bhante, sambahulā kumārakā vā kumārikāyo vā tamhā gāmā vā nigamā vā nikkhamitvā yena sā pokkharaṇī tenupasaṅkameyyuṁ; upasaṅkamitvā taṁ kakkaṭakaṁ udakā uddharitvā thale patiṭṭhapeyyuṁ.

Then several boys or girls would leave the town or village and go to the pond, where they’d pull out the crab and put it on solid ground.

Yaṁ yadeva hi so, bhante, kakkaṭako aḷaṁ abhininnāmeyya taṁ tadeva te kumārakā vā kumārikāyo vā kaṭṭhena vā kathalāya vā sañchindeyyuṁ sambhañjeyyuṁ sampalibhañjeyyuṁ.

Whenever that crab extended a claw, those boys or girls would snap, crack, and break it off with a stick or a stone.

Evañhi so, bhante, kakkaṭako sabbehi aḷehi sañchinnehi sambhaggehi sampalibhaggehi abhabbo taṁ pokkharaṇiṁ otarituṁ.

And when that crab’s claws had all been snapped, cracked, and broken off it wouldn’t be able to return down into that lotus pond.

Evameva kho, bhante, yāni kānici visūkāyikāni visevitāni vipphanditāni, sabbāni tāni bhagavatā sañchinnāni sambhaggāni sampalibhaggāni.

In the same way, sir, the Buddha has snapped, cracked, and broken off all my twists, ducks, and dodges.

Abhabbo dānāhaṁ, bhante, puna bhagavantaṁ upasaṅkamituṁ yadidaṁ otārāpekkho”ti.

Now I’m not able to approach the Buddha again in hopes of finding a vulnerability.”

Atha kho māro pāpimā bhagavato santike imā nibbejanīyā gāthāyo abhāsi:

Then Māra the Wicked recited these verses of disappointment in the Buddha’s presence:

“Medavaṇṇañca pāsāṇaṁ,

“A crow once circled a stone

vāyaso anupariyagā;

that looked like a lump of fat.

Apettha muduṁ vindema,

‘Perhaps I’ll find something tender,’ it thought,

api assādanā siyā.

‘perhaps there’s something tasty.’

Aladdhā tattha assādaṁ,

But finding nothing tasty,

vāyasetto apakkame;

the crow left that place.

Kākova selamāsajja,

Like the crow that pecked the stone,

nibbijjāpema gotamā”ti.

I leave Gotama disappointed.”