Vowing to win release,
The great seer, born in a line of royal seers,
Sat there, and the world rejoiced.
Shaking with fright, however, was the enemy of true dharma -- Mara.
Earth-bearing nagas, seeing Dharma as a dragon's paragon,
Brooked no hindrance to the great sage;
They turned angry eyes towards Mara,
And hissed, and sprang up out of their coils.
Whereas celestial seers of spotless abodes,
Who were set on gaining true Dharma as an end,
Wheeled out, in their minds, compassion for Mara:
They were not touched by anger, being devoid of all colour.
Beholding the foot of the bodhi-tree, beseiged
By that band of sadistic souls which was Mara's army,
Those whose own breath of life was Dharma, and who wanted to free the world,
Issued 'Ah's into inner space.
Still, as a menace to the work of Dharma,
Mara's army remained, and the great seer saw it
Without wavering and without worrying,
Like a lion among moo-cows, Sitting.
For he obtains the sacrificial fire
who keeps on twirling the firestick,
And he gets to water
who keeps on digging down into the earth:
Constancy of effort makes nothing impossible,
And everything doable,
when linked to the means-whereby principle.
Bound fast by the fetter of mental delusion
Is that skein of creation which he desires to disentangle;
It is not for you to try to put an end to him
Who, to undo the ties that bind the living, is exhausting himself.
For those deeds that, for the regaining of consciousness, he
Has done -- their time, assuredly, today has come.
So he is sitting like this, at this place,
Exactly as did the sages of the past.
For the navel of the earth's surface is right here,
Supplied in full with the most vital of energy.
There is no place on earth, therefore, apart from here,
That can bear the impact of the coming together of this person.
So be not grieved but come to quiet.
Being great and famous, Mara, is naught for your pride --
There are no grounds to be confident in fickle political power.
You are puffed up with startle and bluster on an unsteady base."