To me — 
	resolute in exertion
	near the river Nerañjara,
	making a great effort,
	doing jhana
	to attain rest from the yoke — 

Namuci came,
	speaking words of compassion:
"You are ashen, thin.
	Death is in
	your presence.
Death
has 1,000 parts of you.
Only one part
is your life.
Live, good sir!
Life is better.
		Alive,
	you can do
	acts of merit.
Your living the holy life,
performing the fire sacrifice,
will heap up much merit.
	What use is exertion to you?
Hard to follow
— the path of exertion — 
hard to do, hard
to sustain."

Saying these verses,
Mara stood in the Awakened One's presence.
And to that Mara, speaking thus,
the Blessed One said this:

"Kinsman of the heedless,
	Evil One,
come here for whatever purpose:
I haven't, for merit,
even the least bit of need.
Those who have need of merit:
those are the ones
Mara's fit to address.

In me are 	conviction,
		austerity,
		persistence,
		discernment.
Why, when I'm so resolute
do you petition me
	to live?
This wind could burn up
	even river currents.
Why, when I'm resolute
shouldn't my blood dry away?
As my blood dries up
gall & phlegm dry up.
As muscles waste away,
the mind grows clearer;
mindfulness, discernment,
concentration stand
	more firm.
Staying in this way,
attaining the ultimate feeling,
the mind has no interest
in sensual passions.
	See:
	a being's
	purity!

Sensual passions are your first army.
Your second 	is called Discontent.
Your third 		is Hunger & Thirst.
Your fourth 	is called Craving.
Fifth			is Sloth & Drowsiness.
Sixth 		is called Terror.
Your seventh 	is Uncertainty.
Hypocrisy & Stubbornness, your eighth.
Gains, Offerings, Fame, & Status
	wrongly gained,
and whoever would praise self
& disparage others.

That, Namuci, is your army,
the Dark One's commando force.
A coward can't defeat it,
but one having defeated it
		gains bliss.
Do I carry muñja grass?
I spit on my life.
Death in battle woud be better for me
	than that I, defeated,
		survive.

Sinking here, they don't appear,
	some priests & contemplatives.
They don't know the path
by which those with good practices
				go.

Seeing the bannered force
	on all sides — 
the troops, Mara
along with his mount — 
I go into battle.
May they not budge me
	from
	my spot.
That army of yours,
that the world with its devas
		can't overcome,
I will smash 	with discernment — 
as an unfired pot 	with a stone.

Making 	my resolve mastered,
		mindfulness well-established,
I will go about, from kingdom to kingdom,
training many disciples.
They — heedful, resolute
doing my bidding — 
despite your wishes, will go
	where, having gone,
	there's no grief."

Mara:

"For seven years, I've dogged
the Blessed One's steps,
but haven't gained an opening
in the One Self-awakened
	& glorious.
A crow circled a stone
the color of fat
	— 'Maybe I've found
	something tender here.
	Maybe there's something delicious' — 
but not getting anything delicious there,
the crow went away.
Like the crow attacking the rock,
I weary myself with Gotama."

As he was overcome with sorrow,
his lute fell from under his arm.
Then he, the despondent spirit,
			right there
		disappeared.