sn.4.24 Saṁyutta Nikāya (Linked Discourses)

Seven Years of Pursuit

Thus have I heard. On one occasion the Blessed One was dwelling at Uruvela on the bank of the river Nerañjara at the foot of the Goatherd’s Banyan Tree. Now on that occasion Mara the Evil One had been following the Blessed One for seven years, seeking to gain access to him but without success. Then Mara the Evil One approached the Blessed One and addressed him in verse:

“Is it because you are sunk in sorrow
That you meditate in the woods?
Because you’ve lost wealth or pine for it,
Or committed some crime in the village?
Why don’t you make friends with people?
Why don’t you form any intimate ties?”

The Blessed One:

“Having dug up entirely the root of sorrow,
Guiltless, I meditate free from sorrow.
Having cut off all greedy urge for existence,
I meditate taintless, O kinsman of the negligent!”

Mara:

“That of which they say ‘It’s mine,’
And those who speak in terms of ‘mine’—
If your mind exists among these,
You won’t escape me, ascetic.”

The Blessed One:

“That which they speak of is not mine,
I’m not one of those who speak of mine.
You should know thus, O Evil One:
Even my path you will not see.”

Mara:

“If you have discovered the path,
The secure way leading to the Deathless,
Be off and walk that path alone;
What’s the point of instructing others?”

The Blessed One:

“Those people going to the far shore
Ask what lies beyond Death’s realm.
When asked, I explain to them
The truth without acquisitions.”

Mara: “Suppose, venerable sir, not far from a village or a town there was a lotus pond in which a crab was living. Then a group of boys and girls would leave the village or town and go to the pond. They would pull the crab out from the water and set it down on high ground. Then, whenever that crab would extend one of its claws, those boys and girls would cut it off, break it, and smash it to bits with sticks and stones. Thus, when all its claws have been cut off, broken, and smashed to bits, that crab would be unable to return to that pond. So too, venerable sir, all those distortions, manoeuvres, and contortions of mine have been cut off, broken, and smashed to bits by the Blessed One. Now, venerable sir, I am unable to approach the Blessed One again seeking to gain access to him.”

Then Mara the Evil One, in the presence of the Blessed One, recited these verses of disappointment:

“There was a crow that walked around
A stone that looked like a lump of fat.
‘Let’s find something tender here,’ he thought,
‘Perhaps there’s something nice and tasty.’

But because he found nothing tasty there,
The crow departed from that spot.
Just like the crow that attacked the stone,
We leave Gotama disappointed.”

- Translator: Bhikkhu Bodhi

- Editor: Blake Walsh

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Seven Years of Following

So I have heard.
At one time the Buddha was staying near Uruvelā at the goatherd’s banyan tree on the bank of the Nerañjarā River.
Now at that time Māra the Wicked had been following the Buddha for seven years hoping to find a vulnerability without success.
Then Māra the Wicked went up to the Buddha and addressed him in verse:
“Are you swamped by sorrow that you meditate in the forest?
Have you lost a fortune, or do you long for one?
Or perhaps you’ve committed some crime in the village?
Why don’t you get too close to people?
And why does no-one get close to you?”
“I’ve dug out the root of sorrow completely.
I practice absorption free of guilt or sorrow.
I’ve cut off all greed and prayer for future lives.
Undefiled, I practice absorption, O kinsman of the negligent!”
“The things they call ‘mine’,
and those who say ‘it’s mine’:
if your mind remains there,
you won’t escape me, ascetic!”
“The things they speak of aren’t mine;
I’m not someone who speaks like that.
So know this, Wicked One:
you won’t even see the path I take.”
“If you’ve discovered the path
that’s safe, and leads to the deathless,
go and walk that path alone—
why teach it to anyone else?”
“Those crossing to the far shore
ask what’s beyond the domain of Death.
When I’m asked, I explain to them
the truth without attachments.”
“Sir, suppose there was a lotus pond not far from a town or village,
and a crab lived there.
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 dry land.
Whenever that crab extended a claw, those boys or girls would snap, crack, and break it off with a stick or a stone.
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.
In the same way, sir, the Buddha has snapped, cracked, and broken off all my tricks, dodges, and evasions.
Now I’m not able to approach the Buddha again in hopes of finding a vulnerability.”
Then Māra the Wicked recited these verses of disappointment in the Buddha’s presence:
“A crow once circled a stone
that looked like a lump of fat.
‘Perhaps I’ll find something tender,’ it thought,
‘perhaps there’s something tasty.’
But finding nothing tasty,
the crow left that place.
Like the crow that pecked the stone,
I leave Gotama disappointed.”