Translated by Śramaṇa Zhi Yan of the Great Tang Dynasty
I recollect that, in immeasurable kalpas in the past, there was a king named Sudarśana.
One day, with his ministers and attendants following him, the king went out traveling into the mountains to hunt.
At that time, thunder and lightning, hailstones, and violent winds suddenly arose from all directions.
The retinue all panicked and scattered, and the king alone entered deep into the mountain forests. Resting along the riverbank to recover, he had no companion.
At that time, there was a lioness living among the mountain woods and marshy waters. Seeing the king sitting alone, she approached him.
Sentient beings, because of evil karma from previous lives, in later lives revolve through the hells, undergoing immeasurable suffering.
The king and the lioness also, due to causes and conditions from former lives, gave rise in this life to mutual lust, and they coupled together.
And the one conceived within the lioness’s womb was one who, through many kalpas in former lives, had killed living beings and eaten flesh.
The lioness then gave birth to a boy with a human body and a lion’s face, with spotted feet, shaped like the king of beasts.
The boy grew swiftly, and became extremely fierce and powerful. One day, the boy asked his mother, “Whose descendant am I?”
The lioness replied, “Your father is the king of the country of Magādha, named Sudarśana.”
After hearing these words, the son quickly went forth to search, and found his father, the king of Magādha.
The son explained to his father in detail the causes by which he had come there. Hearing this, the king awakened in understanding, and took in this son.
Because the father-king had already become aged and declining, he ascended a tower and enthroned his son as the new king, giving him the title Lion Sudarśana.
From then on, the new king began to ascend the royal hall, handle the affairs of state, and govern ministers and common people.
Yet because the lion king in former lives through many kalpas had killed sentient beings, eaten their flesh, and harmed them,
although in this life he held the royal seat among humans, he did not eat the five grains, but ate only birds and beasts, and beings of the waters and the land.
Whenever it was nearly time to present various meats to the king, the cooks would hastily pull from a dog’s mouth the animal flesh it had carried.
The cooks, fearing that the meat would not be enough and that they would be executed by the king, went out to seize infants.
The cook secretly cut off the infant’s head, neck, and limbs, then placed them into a pot to boil, and presented them for the king to eat.
After eating this flesh, the king found it extremely delicious. The king craved this taste of flesh with a frenzy like firewood being ignited.
The king asked the cook, “What flesh is this?” Trembling with fear, the officer reported to the king the source of the meat.
The king pardoned the cook’s crime and comforted him not to worry, telling him that from then on he should present such flesh daily as before.
Since the cook had received the great king’s instruction, he began each day to change into ordinary clothing and steal others’ infants.
Over many years he stole the baby boys and girls of the people, like a rākṣasa, like a hawk.
The people of Magādha all put on mourning clothes, each in alarm over news of their lost children.
Parents supported one another with their hands, asking each other about the whereabouts of their sons and daughters. They wept and choked with grief, yet had nowhere to appeal.
At last, with villagers keeping watch, the thief was captured. The thief-cook cried out in misery, claiming that he too was acting against his will.
After hearing this, the people reported it to the king. When the king heard it, he was filled with rage. He cursed, and on that very day issued an order:
from now on, infant flesh was to be presented in secret, one each time.
The children among the people and their relatives were eaten one after another, like lambs in a pen being led away to the kitchen.
The gates of the kingdom were closed. The people were in despair, with nowhere to bring complaint. They gathered together at the great palace gate, preparing to eliminate this evil ruler.
The king ascended a high platform and prayed: “May I have wings, so that I may escape this calamity.
If I can obtain wings, then I will go and seize the lands of all directions, and with the heads of one hundred kings I will make offerings in sacrifice to the mountain deity.”
The lion, a fierce beast, because of his violent nature, immediately obtained wings as he wished.
He rose into the sky and flew away, capturing the various kings and imprisoning them upon steep mountain peaks.
He had already seized ninety-nine kings, lacking only one more to prepare the sacrifice. The lion continued searching.
At that time, in Rājagṛha there was a Bodhisattva king named Heard Moon, bathing in a garden grove.
The lion saw this king seated upon a great jeweled stone, and stretched out his right arm, preparing to seize him.
King Heard Moon wept sorrowfully. The lion asked why he was crying, and he said:
“I have heard that the great king is courageous and wise, and I have also heard that Bodhisattvas do not begrudge their own lives or wealth.
Great King, if you too could cultivate patience in this way, then how could there be sorrow and the sense of being unfree?”
King Heard Moon replied to the lion: “All sorrow cannot outweigh the Bodhisattva’s great compassion.
Today I grieve precisely for these one hundred kings.
In their lives they were wealthy and honored, ruling their lands and the world, yet they did not expect that today they would be imprisoned, with their lives soon ending.
Moreover, in order to seek and hear the Buddha’s Dharma, I searched through a hundred kingdoms and invited a Dharma teacher from afar.
It is only regrettable that I cannot catch up to hear the teacher’s personal instruction. The citizens also yearn with reverence, yet have never heard it.
Please grant me seven days, so that I may make offerings to the Three Jewels, hear the wondrous sound of the Dharma,
and gather the ministers, so that they too may hear the teacher’s true Dharma exhortation. On the eighth day, I will personally come to meet the great king.”
Because the Bodhisattva’s words contained no deceit, the lion permitted King Heard Moon and granted him a limit of seven days.
On the eighth day, Heard Moon left the city to meet the lion king. The Bodhisattva had already abandoned attachment to the body, waiting only to offer himself to the lion king.
At that time, the lion appeared soaring in the air like a cloud. Before the attendants of King Heard Moon, he seized him and carried him away.
The lion asked Heard Moon: “Are you not afraid? How do you dare appear before me like the king of beasts?”
Heard Moon replied: “This body is false and unreal. Today I give it to the great king.
I would rather abandon bodies and wealth a hundred thousand times over than violate the appointed time agreed upon with you.”
At that time, King Heard Moon, with a gentle expression, spoke in skillful words: “Please allow me a little time to explain the causes and conditions.
If you sacrifice to evil spirits and gods, good deities will bring calamity upon you.
Through many kalpas, you will no longer hear the names of the Buddha lands of the ten directions, nor of the noble and holy ones.
This body is false. It is born from the coming together of causes and conditions. Life is like lightning, with nowhere to remain.
The five faculties and the six consciousnesses do not truly contain a real self within them. The eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and touch are the causes for producing the notion of ‘self.’
They are like illusory transformations, experiencing many objects, yet sentient beings cling to these objects as real.
From head to foot, if we examine this body, we find there is not a single place that can endure for long.
The body is like a bubble upon water, vanishing in an instant. It undergoes irregular change, from aging, to sickness, to death.
You nourish your own body with the flesh of sentient beings. In the end this is a path without refuge and without goodness.
You have killed immeasurable sentient beings and devoured their flesh, therefore you will revolve through evil destinies in suffering.”
At that time, King Heard Moon, with immeasurable verses, exhorted and transformed Lion King Sudarśana.
After the lion heard the true principle of non-self, his mind gradually turned back.
The lion asked King Heard Moon: “What should be done so that sacrifice will be without sin and the gods will be pleased?”
Heard Moon replied: “Prepare vegetarian food, and with innocent and pure nourishment make offerings in sacrifice to the heavens.”
The lion followed the instruction. After sacrificing to the mountain deity, he abandoned self-clinging and offered himself to King Heard Moon.
He also entrusted all the kings imprisoned in the mountains to the attendants of King Heard Moon.
Heard Moon led the kings back, each returning to his own country, and allowed them as before to settle and govern their people.
He brought Lion King Sudarśana back to the country of Magādha, seating him again in the palace that originally belonged to him.
Lion King Sudarśana assembled all ministers and the myriad people and proclaimed: “From this day onward, throughout the entire kingdom, meat shall be cut off, and there shall be no further killing.”
At that time, the Bodhisattva Heard Moon made a great vow in his heart: “May I in the future, when I accomplish Unsurpassed Right and Perfect Awakening,
be able to liberate all sentient beings. May these kings be able to attain Buddhahood together with me.
I have bestowed upon the lion king the wondrous Dharma, and may it cause his heavy sins to be dispelled.”
I further recollect that, before an asaṃkhyeya kalpa, when Śakra Devānām Indra was still in the Trāyastriṃśa palace, because of habits of eating meat left from former lives, he transformed into a hawk pursuing a pigeon. At that time, I was a king in the world named Śibi. Because I pitied the pigeon, I cut flesh from my own body, equal in weight, to replace the pigeon and repay its life. That King Śibi was my former life. In later ages, I became a king named Heard Moon. And that Śakra, who at that time transformed into a hawk, later became a king, namely that lion Sudarśana. Śakra, because he tested me, was still cast into an evil destiny. How much more so the other beings who exclusively commit killing, devour flesh and blood, have no sense of shame, and do not know restraint or contentment.
All sentient beings since beginningless time have mutually been parents and relatives to one another. Toward birds and beasts, how could one bear to swallow and eat them? Those who eat meat, over successive kalpas, are cast into rebirth among birds and beasts. Those who consume the flesh and blood of others, through revolving change, must repay life and receive retribution. If they are born among humans, they then exclusively commit killing and crave the eating of meat. After death, they fall again into the Avīci Hell, without even a moment of rest. If a person in one lifetime can cut off the eating of meat, then in future lives, until attaining Buddhahood, throughout that interval they will never again eat meat.
Dharma Torch 