“Then again when I was
the true-born son of the king of Kāsi,
I grew up in an iron house,
so I was named Ayoghara.
‘Your life has been a painful one,
as you’ve been raised in confinement.
Today, my son, rule
the entirety of this land.’
Having bowed to the citizens of country and town,
the king and his people,
I raised my joined palms
and said the following.
‘All the creatures of this earth—
low, middle, or high—
are unprotected in their own home,
in which they grew up with their families.
It was unique in the world
to be raised in confinement.
I grew up in an iron house,
scarcely lit by sun or moon.
Filled with rotting carcass,
I escaped my mother’s womb.
Then to a viler suffering
I was tossed in an iron house.
Having fallen into such
appallingly dreadful suffering,
if I desired kingships,
I’d be the worst of the worst.
I’m fed up with the body,
I have no need for kingship.
I shall seek quenching
where Death will not crush me.’
Reflecting in this way,
as the great crowd wailed,
like a bull elephant bursting his ropes,
I entered the forest grove.
I had no dislike of my parents,
nor did I dislike the great fame.
But because omniscience is precious to me,
that is why I forsook kingship.”