Close to the Himalayan range
on the mountain called Nisabha
my ashram is very well made,
a well-constructed hall of leaves.

Famed ascetic with matted hair,
Kosiya was my name back then.
Solitary, with no second,
I did live on Nisabha then.

At that time I was not eating
fruits and roots and freshly-picked leaves.
I was always subsisting on
the stuff that fell into my bowl.

I disturbed no mode of living,
giving up my own life itself.
My own heart was satisfied as
I rejected all harmful ways.

Whenever there arose in me
a mind heated up by passion,
reflecting on it by myself,
remaining calm I would tame it:

“You’re aroused in what’s arousing,
you are defiled in what defiles,
you fool yourself in foolish things
so you should leave the forest now.

This is the habitation of
the pure and stainless ascetics.
Do not sully that purity;
you ought to leave the forest now.

Having become a homeless one,
you always get what is fitting.
Don’t you transgress against them both;
you ought to leave the forest now.

The wood left from a funeral pyre
is not made use of anywhere:
in the village or the jungle
it’s not approved as firewood.

You are just like that firebrand,
neither layman nor yet wise man.
Today you’ve departed from both
so you should leave the forest now.

What then would that produce for you?
To what does this give birth for you?
Giving up my practice of faith
results in so much idleness.

The wise are going to despise you
as a householder dislikes dirt.
Sages, having rooted you out
will always cast blame upon you.

The wise ones will speak out against
you leaving the dispensation.
You’ll receive no co-residence;
what are you going to live on then?

A strong elephant will approach
an elephant who’s thrice-rutting,
a tusker sixty years of age
and drive him away from the herd.

Living in exile from the herd
he’s not happy nor is he pleased.
Suffering with his mind depressed,
full of remorse, he will tremble.

Just like that the cruel ascetics
are surely going to throw you out.
Being exiled by them you won’t
feel happiness or pleasure then.

If by day or by night you are
pierced through with the arrow of grief,
then you will burn with pain just like
the tusker exiled from the herd.

Just as a pretty iron tool
is not taken out anywhere,
so you, without moral restraint,
won’t be invited anywhere.

Even if you’re dwelling at home
what are you going to live on there?
You do not have a heap of wealth
from your mother and your father.

Having done hard work by oneself
much sweat flows out of the body.
Thus earning a living at home,
you won’t think it so excellent.”

In that way I carried on there
whenever my mind was defiled.
Making varied Dhamma-speeches
I warded off my evil heart.

While I was living in this way
dwelling so very thoughtfully
fully thirty thousand years passed
in my forest hermitage there.

Seeing my love of thoughtfulness
in seeking for the supreme goal,
Padumuttara the Buddha
then came to the place where I was.

The Bright Hue of Wild Mangosteen,
Incomparable, Unmeasurable,
the Buddha, Unrivaled in Form,
walked back and forth across the sky.

Like a regal sal tree in bloom,
like lightening inside of a cloud,
the Buddha, Peerless in Knowledge,
walked back and forth across the sky.

Not frightened, like the king of beasts;
prideful like an elephant-king;
playful as a tiger-king he
walked back and forth across the sky.

Shining like a coin made of gold
or even like glowing embers,
like a wish-fulfilling gem he
walked back and forth across the sky.

Like Mount Kailās in purity,
like the moon on the fifteenth day,
like the blazing midday sun he
walked back and forth across the sky.

Seeing him walk across the sky
at that time I thought in this way:
“Is this creature some sort of god?
If not, is this one just a man?

I’ve never heard of nor have seen
a man as great as this one seems.
Surely he knows secret mantras;
I think this must be the Teacher.”

Having thought about it like that
I brought pleasure to my own heart.
And I then gathered together
various flowers and perfumes.

Spreading out a seat of flowers
I then spoke these words to Buddha,
Good-Hearted One, the Mind’s Delight,
the Charioteer of Men, the Top:

“O Hero, I’ve spread out this seat
which is a fitting one for you.
Bringing laughter to my own heart
please sit on this seat of flowers.”

The Blessed One did sit down there
unfrightened like a lion-king,
and the Buddha remained a week
on that excellent floral seat.

Worshipping him I stood right there
for all those seven nights and days.
Rising up from meditation
the Teacher, Best One in the World,

declaring my karmic result
then did speak these words to me there:
“Practice Buddha-recollection,
it’s the supreme meditation.

Cultivating this mindfulness
will be fulfilling mentally.
For thirty thousand aeons you
will delight in the world of gods.

Eighty times as the king of gods
you will exercise divine rule.
A thousand times you’re going to be
wheel-turning king of a country.

And you will have much local rule
innumerable by counting.
You’ll experience all of that:
fruit of Buddha-recollection.

Transmigrating from birth to birth
you will receive many riches.
In wealth never deficiency:
fruit of Buddha-recollection.

In one hundred thousand aeons,
arising in Okkāka’s clan,
the one whose name is Gotama
will be the Teacher in the world.

Discarding eight hundred million
and many slaves and workers too,
you’ll renounce in the great Teaching
of Gotama the Blessed One.

Satisfying the Sambuddha,
Gotama, the Bull of Śākyas,
you will be known as Subhūti,
a follower of the Teacher.

Seated in the monks’ assembly
he’ll fix you in two foremost spots:
in the group of gift-receivers,
and also of forest-dwellers.”

Having said this, the Sambuddha
who was named for the lotus flower,
the Hero flew into the sky
just like a swan-king in the air.

Thus instructed by the World-Chief
and having praised the Thus-Gone-One,
satisfied I always practiced
supreme Buddha-recollection.

Due to that karma done very well
with intention and firm resolve,
discarding my human body
I went to Tāvatiṃsa then.

Eighty times as the king of gods
I did exercise divine rule,
and too a thousand times I was
a wheel-turning monarch then.

And I did have much local rule
innumerable by counting.
I experienced supreme success:
fruit of Buddha-recollection.

Transmigrating from birth to birth
I did receive many riches.
In wealth never deficiency:
fruit of Buddha-recollection.

In the hundred thousand aeons
since I performed that good karma,
I’ve come to know no bad rebirth;
fruit of Buddha-recollection.

The four analytical modes,
and these eight deliverances,
six special knowledges mastered,
I have done what the Buddha taught!

Thus indeed Venerable Subhūti Thera spoke these verses.

The legend of Subhūti Thera is finished.