Sutta Nipata

Anyone among humans who lives off archery: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a warrior, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who lives off priesthood: know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a sacrificer, not a brahmin.

Anyone among humans who taxes village and nation, know them, Vāseṭṭha, as a ruler, not a brahmin.

I don’t call someone a brahmin after the mother’s womb they’re born from. If they still have attachments, they’re just someone who says ‘worthy’. Having nothing, taking nothing: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Having cut off all fetters they have no anxiety; they’ve slipped their chains and are detached: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve cut the strap and harness, the halter and bridle too; with cross-bar lifted, they’re awakened: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Abuse, killing, caging: they endure these without anger. Patience is their powerful army: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Not irritable or pretentious, dutiful in precepts and observances, tamed, bearing their final body: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Like water from a lotus leaf, like a mustard seed off the point of a pin, sensual pleasures slip off them: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They understand for themselves the end of suffering in this life; with burden put down, detached: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Deep in wisdom, intelligent, expert in the path and what is not the path; arrived at the highest goal: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Mixing with neither householders nor the homeless; a migrant with no bastion, few in wishes: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve laid aside violence against creatures firm and frail; not killing or making others kill: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Not fighting among those who fight, quenched among those who have taken up arms, not grasping among those who grasp: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve discarded greed and hate, along with conceit and contempt, like a mustard seed off the point of a pin: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

The words they utter are polished, informative, and true, and don’t offend anyone: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They don’t steal anything in the world, long or short, tiny or huge, beautiful or ugly: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They have no hope for this world or the next; with no need for hope, detached: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They have no clinging, knowledge has freed them of indecision, they’ve arrived at the objective, freedom from death: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve escaped clinging to both good and bad deeds; sorrowless, stainless, pure: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Pure as the spotless moon, clear and unclouded, they’ve ended relish for rebirth: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve got past this grueling swamp of delusion, transmigration. Meditating in stillness, free of indecision, they have crossed over to the far shore. They’re quenched by not grasping: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve given up sensual pleasures, and have gone forth from lay life; they’ve ended rebirth in the sensual realm: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve given up craving, and have gone forth from lay life; they’ve ended craving to be reborn: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They’ve thrown off the human yoke, and slipped out of the heavenly yoke; unyoked from all yokes: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Giving up desire and discontent, they’re cooled and free of attachments; a hero, master of the whole world: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They know the passing away and rebirth of all beings; unattached, holy, awakened: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Gods, centaurs, and humans don’t know their destiny; the perfected ones with defilements ended: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They have nothing before or after, or even in between. Having nothing, taking nothing: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

Captain of the herd, excellent hero, great seer and victor; unstirred, washed, awakened: that’s who I declare a brahmin.

They who know their past lives, see heaven and places of loss, and have attained the ending of rebirth, that’s who I declare a brahmin.

For name and clan are formulated as mere convention in the world. Produced by mutual agreement, they’re formulated in each case.

For a long time this misconception has prejudiced those who don’t understand. Ignorant, they declare that one is a brahmin by birth.

You’re not a brahmin by birth, nor by birth a non-brahmin. You’re a brahmin by your deeds, and by deeds a non-brahmin.

You’re a farmer by your deeds, by deeds you’re a professional; you’re a trader by your deeds, by deeds are you a servant;

you’re a bandit by your deeds, by deeds you’re a warrior; you’re a sacrificer by your deeds, by deeds you’re a ruler.

In this way the astute regard deeds in accord with truth. Seeing dependent origination, they’re expert in deeds and their results.

Deeds make the world go on, deeds make people go on; sentient beings are bound by deeds, like a moving chariot’s linchpin.

By fervor and spiritual practice, by restraint and by self-control: that’s how to become a brahmin, this is the supreme brahmin.

Accomplished in the three knowledges, peaceful, with rebirth ended, know them, Vāseṭṭha, as the Divinity and Sakka to the wise.”

When he had spoken, Vāseṭṭha and Bhāradvāja said to him, “Excellent, worthy Gotama! Excellent! … From this day forth, may the worthy Gotama remember us as lay followers who have gone for refuge for life.”

So I have heard. At one time the Buddha was staying near Sāvatthī in Jeta’s Grove, Anāthapiṇḍika’s monastery. Then the mendicant Kokālika went up to the Buddha, bowed, sat down to one side, and said to him, “Sir, Sāriputta and Moggallāna have corrupt wishes. They’ve fallen under the sway of corrupt wishes.”

When this was said, the Buddha said to Kokālika, “Don’t say that, Kokālika! Don’t say that, Kokālika! Have confidence in Sāriputta and Moggallāna, they’re good monks.”

For a second time … For a third time Kokālika said to the Buddha, “Despite my faith and trust in the Buddha, Sāriputta and Moggallāna have corrupt wishes. They’ve fallen under the sway of corrupt wishes.” For a third time, the Buddha said to Kokālika, “Don’t say that, Kokālika! Don’t say that, Kokālika! Have confidence in Sāriputta and Moggallāna, they’re good monks.”

Then Kokālika rose from his seat, bowed, and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before leaving. Not long after he left his body erupted with boils the size of mustard seeds. The boils grew to the size of mung beans, then chickpeas, then jujube seeds, then jujubes, then myrobalans, then unripe wood-apples, then ripe wood-apples. Finally they burst open, and pus and blood oozed out. Then the mendicant Kokālika died of that illness. He was reborn in the Pink Lotus hell because of his resentment for Sāriputta and Moggallāna.

Then, late at night, the glorious divinity Sahampati, lighting up the entire Jeta’s Grove, went up to the Buddha, bowed, stood to one side, and said to him, “Sir, the mendicant Kokālika has passed away. He was reborn in the Pink Lotus hell because of his resentment for Sāriputta and Moggallāna.” That is what the divinity Sahampati said. Then he bowed and respectfully circled the Buddha, keeping him on his right, before vanishing right there.

Then, when the night had passed, the Buddha told the mendicants all that had happened.

When he said this, one of the mendicants said to the Buddha, “Sir, how long is the lifespan in the Pink Lotus hell?” “It’s long, mendicant. It’s not easy to calculate how many years, how many hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands of years it lasts.” “But sir, is it possible to give a simile?” “It’s possible,” said the Buddha.

“Suppose there was a Kosalan load of twenty packs of sesame seed. And at the end of every hundred years someone would remove a single seed from it. By this means the Kosalan load of twenty packs of sesame seed would run out faster than a single lifetime in the Abbuda hell. Now, twenty lifetimes in the Abbuda hell equal one lifetime in the Nirabbuda hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Nirabbuda hell equal one lifetime in the Ababa hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Ababa hell equal one lifetime in the Aṭaṭa hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Aṭaṭa hell equal one lifetime in the Ahaha hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Ahaha hell equal one lifetime in the Yellow Lotus hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Yellow Lotus hell equal one lifetime in the Fragrant Water Lily hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Fragrant Water Lily hell equal one lifetime in the Blue Water Lily hell. Twenty lifetimes in the Blue Water Lily hell equal one lifetime in the White Lotus hell. Twenty lifetimes in the White Lotus hell equal one lifetime in the Pink Lotus hell. The mendicant Kokālika has been reborn in the Pink Lotus hell because of his resentment for Sāriputta and Moggallāna.” That is what the Buddha said. Then the Holy One, the Teacher, went on to say:

“A person is born with an axe in their mouth. A fool cuts themselves with it when they say bad words.

When you praise someone worthy of criticism, or criticize someone worthy of praise, you choose a losing hand with your own mouth: you’ll never find happiness that way.

A losing hand at dice is a trivial thing, if all you lose is your money and all you own, even yourself. What’s a really terrible hand is to hate the holy ones.

For a hundred thousand times a hundred million, times five hundred and thirty-six times <j>a thousand times ten million years a slanderer of noble ones goes to hell, having aimed bad words and thoughts at them.

A liar goes to hell, as does one who denies what they did. Both are equal in the hereafter, those men of base deeds.

Whoever wrongs a man who has done no wrong, a pure man who has not a blemish, the evil backfires on the fool, like fine dust thrown upwind.

One addicted to the way of greed, abuses others with their speech, faithless, miserly, uncharitable, stingy, addicted to backbiting.

Foul-mouthed, divisive, ignoble, a baby-killer, wicked, wrongdoer, worst of men, cursed, base-born— quiet now, for you are bound for hell.

You stir up dust, causing harm, when you, sinner, malign the good. Having done many bad deeds, you’ll go to the pit for a long time.

For no one’s deeds are ever lost, they return to their owner. In the next life that stupid sinner sees suffering in themselves.

They approach the place of impalement, with its iron spikes, sharp blades, and iron stakes. Then there is the food, which appropriately, is like a red-hot iron ball.

For the speakers speak not sweetly, they don’t hurry there, or find shelter. They lie upon a spread of coals, they enter a blazing mass of fire.

Wrapping them in a net, they strike them there with iron hammers. They come to blinding darkness, which spreads about them like a fog.

Next they enter a copper pot, a blazing mass of fire. There they roast for a long time, writhing in the masses of fire.

Then the sinner roasts there in a mixture of pus and blood. No matter where they settle, everything they touch there hurts them.

The sinner roasts in worm-infested water. There’s not even a shore to go to, for all around are the same kind of pots.

They enter the Sword-Leaf Forest, so sharp they cut their body to pieces. Having grabbed the tongue with a hook, they stab it, slashing back and forth.

Then they approach the impassable Vetaraṇī River, with its sharp blades, its razor blades. Dullards fall into it, the wicked who have done wicked deeds.

There dogs all brown and spotted, and raven flocks, and greedy jackals devour them as they wail, while hawks and crows attack them.

Hard, alas, is the life here that sinners endure. That’s why for the rest of this life a person ought do their duty without fail.

Experts have counted the loads of sesame as compared to the Pink Lotus hell. For there are five times ten thousand times ten million, plus another twelve hundred times ten million years—

as painful as life is said to be in hell, that’s how long one must dwell there. That’s why, for those who are pure, well-behaved, <j>full of good qualities, one should always guard one’s speech and mind.”

The seer Asita in his daily meditation saw the bright-clad gods of the host of Thirty and their lord Sakka joyfully celebrating, waving streamers in exuberant exaltation.

Seeing the gods rejoicing, elated, he paid respects and said this there: “Why is the community of gods <j>in such excellent spirits? Why take up streamers and whirl them about?

Even in the war with the titans, when gods were victorious and titans defeated, there was no such excitement. What marvel have the celestials seen <j>that they so rejoice?

Shouting and singing and playing music, they clap their hands and dance. I ask you, dwellers on Mount Meru’s peak, quickly dispel my doubt, good fellows!”

“The being intent on awakening, a peerless gem, has been born in the human realm <j>for the sake of welfare and happiness, in Lumbinī, a village in the Sakyan land. That’s why we’re so happy, in such excellent spirits.

He is supreme among all beings, the peak individual, captain of men, supreme among all creatures. He will roll forth the wheel in the grove of the seers, roaring like a mighty lion, lord of beasts.”

Hearing this, he swiftly descended and right away approached Suddhodana’s home. Seated there he said this to the Sakyans, “Where is the boy? I too wish to see him!”

Then the Sakyans showed their son <j>to the one named Asita— the boy shone like burning gold well-wrought in the forge; dazzling with glory, of peerless beauty.

The boy beamed like crested flame, pure as the moon, lord of stars traversing the sky, blazing like the sun free of stormclouds <j>after the rains; seeing him, he was joyful, brimming with happiness.

The celestials held up a parasol in the sky, many-ribbed and thousand-circled; and golden-handled chowries waved— but none could see who held <j>the chowries or the parasols.

When the matted hair seer named “Dark Splendor” had seen the boy like a gold ingot on a cream rug with a white parasol held over his head, he received him, elated and happy.

Having received the Sakyan bull, the seeker, master of marks and hymns, lifted up his voice with confident heart: “He is supreme, the best of men!”

But then, remembering he would depart this world, his spirits fell and his tears flowed. Seeing the weeping seer, the Sakyans said, “Surely there will be no threat to the boy?”

Seeing the crestfallen Sakyans, the seer said, “I do not forsee harm befall the boy, and there will be no threat to him, not in the least; set your minds at ease.

This boy shall reach the highest awakening. As one of perfectly purified vision, <j>compassionate for the welfare of the many, he shall roll forth the wheel of the teaching; his spiritual path will become widespread.

But I have not long left in this life, I shall die before then. I will never hear the teaching of the one <j>who bore the unequaled burden. That’s why I’m so upset and distraught—<j>it’s a disaster for me!”

Having brought abundant happiness to the Sakyans, the spiritual seeker left the royal compound. He had a nephew; and out of sympathy he encouraged him in the teaching <j>of the one who bore the unequaled burden.

“When you hear the voice of another saying <j>‘Buddha’— one who has attained awakening <j>and who reveals the foremost teaching— go there and ask about his breakthrough; lead the spiritual life under that Blessed One.”

Now, that Nālaka had a store of accumulated merit; so when instructed by one of such kindly intent, with perfectly purified vision of the future, he waited anticipating the Victor, <j>guarding his senses.

When he heard of the Victor rolling forth <j>the excellent wheel he went to him, and seeing the boss seer, he became confident. The time of Asita’s instruction had arrived; so he asked the excellent sage <j>about the highest sagacity. The introductory verses are finished.

“I now know that Asita’s words have turned out to be true. I ask you this, Gotama, who has gone beyond all things:

For one who has entered the homeless life, seeking food on alms round, when questioned, O sage, please tell me of sagacity, the ultimate state.”

“I shall school you in sagacity,” said the Buddha, “so difficult and challenging. Come, I shall tell you all about it. Brace yourself; stay strong!

In the village, keep the same attitude no matter if reviled or praised. Guard against ill-tempered thoughts; wander peaceful and humble.

Many different things come up, like tongues of fire in a forest. Women try to seduce a sage— let them not seduce you!

Refraining from sex, having left behind sensual pleasures high and low, don’t be hostile or attached to living creatures firm or frail.

‘As am I, so are they; as are they, so am I’— Treating others like oneself, neither kill nor incite to kill.

Leaving behind desire and greed for what ordinary people are attached to, one whose eye is clear would set out to practice, they’d cross over this abyss.

With empty stomach, taking limited food, few in wishes, not greedy; truly hungerless regarding all desires, desireless, one is quenched.