Translation by Tripitaka Master Yijing of the Tang Dynasty, Under Imperial Commission

At that time, three celestial beings came before the bodhisattva and saw his form. They discussed among themselves. The first said: "This Gautama is a dark ascetic." The second said: "This Gautama is a dusky ascetic." The third said: "He is neither dark nor dusky—he is a grey ascetic." Because of the celestial beings' discussion, the bodhisattva thus acquired three names. All the light and color that had radiated from the bodhisattva's body faded away. During this period, without having learned it from anyone, the bodhisattva spontaneously generated three parables with eloquent insight.

These three are:

First: There is damp wood, full of moisture, taken from the water. The fire stick is also wet. Someone comes from afar seeking fire. He tries to make fire by drilling the wet wood with a wet fire stick—but no fire can be produced. Likewise, there are ascetics and priests who, though their bodies have left desire, still harbor attachment and craving in their minds. They indulge in desire, crave desire, cling to the objects of desire, delight in the situation of desire, and rejoice in the company of desire—such thoughts are always within them. Even if these people inflict great suffering on their bodies, enduring all kinds of bitterness and pain, without true wisdom and true insight, they cannot attain the supreme, right path.

Second: There is damp wood, full of moisture, lying by the water's edge. Someone comes from afar seeking fire. He tries to make fire by drilling the damp wood with a dry fire stick—though he wishes for fire, it cannot be kindled. In the same way, there are ascetics and priests who, though their bodies have left desire, still harbor attachment and craving in their minds. They indulge in desire, crave desire, cling to the objects of desire, delight in the situation of desire, and rejoice in the company of desire—such faults are always in their bodies and minds. Even if they inflict great suffering on their bodies, enduring all kinds of bitterness and pain, without true wisdom and true insight, they cannot reach the supreme, right path.

Third: There is rotten wood, without any moisture, lying on a damp bank. Someone comes seeking fire. Though he drills it with a fire stick, no fire can be kindled. So too, there are ascetics and priests who, though their bodies have left desire, still harbor craving in their minds and undergo painful experiences. Without true wisdom and true insight, they cannot attain the supreme, right path.

After the bodhisattva understood this parable, he thought to himself: "Now I should eat only one sesame seed per day." Even while eating one sesame seed, he was constantly tormented by the fire of hunger, and the joints of his body grew thinner and weaker. Because the fire of hunger did not cease, he then ate one grain of rice per day—yet the hunger fire still would not stop. He then ate one kola nut per day, but still grew emaciated. He then ate one mung bean per day, yet he still withered away. He then ate one sweet bean per day, yet he remained emaciated. He then ate one soybean per day, yet he still grew gaunt and exhausted.

At that time, King Shuddhodana, hearing of the Prince's ascetic practices, wept in grief and lamentation. As for the women of the palace, they took off their jewelry, spread grass on the ground, and sat down, likewise eating only one sesame seed, one grain of rice, and one bean each day. Then Yashodhara, from having so little to eat, began to weaken in her pregnancy. When the king heard this, he thought: "If the Bodhisattva continues his severe asceticism, and Yashodhara hears more about it, she will become deeply distressed, lose the child, and possibly die. I must find a way to keep her from knowing of the Bodhisattva's ordeal." So King Shuddhodana told the palace women: "Do not let Yashodhara know about the Bodhisattva's ascetic practices." He also commanded the messengers: "Let no one else casually learn of the Bodhisattva's asceticism." Although King Shuddhodana himself heard from the messengers about his son's suffering, he told the palace women by various means: "The Bodhisattva has now eaten."

Meanwhile, the Bodhisattva, having eaten only one sesame seed and one grain of rice, thought to himself: "This path is not true wisdom, nor is it true insight. It cannot lead to the supreme Way. I should instead practice an asceticism that involves eating impure substances." He then thought: "What impure substance should I eat? I should take the dung and urine of a newborn calf that has not yet grazed." So he did. He ate these things, but only after letting their nutritional power be fully exhausted from his system before eating again. Having done so, he went beneath a charnel ground and laid himself down, resting on the corpses and dry bones, lying on his right side with his feet covered. He focused his mind on an inner light, and in this way—whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down—he never let go of his mindfulness for an instant.

When the Bodhisattva sat in stillness, some village men and women, seeing him so calm and focused, would take stalks of grass and pierce them through his ears, pulling them out one side after the other. Playing and laughing, they would tug the grass back and forth and taunt him: "Look at this dust-covered ghost!" they'd say, and then again: "Dust-covered ghost!" They would also throw dirt clods and stones at his body. Though they treated him so mockingly, the Bodhisattva felt no anger and spoke no harsh words—he endured what was difficult to endure.

At that time, through diligent and unflagging effort, the Bodhisattva's body became light and at ease. He never ceased his practice, maintaining his mindfulness continuously without doubt or hesitation, fixing his mind in concentration and abiding in meditative absorption.