And having thus perceived the world as it is, our Lord was perfected in wisdom, and shows and illusions being ended for him, there died in him that false self which will have all for its own; never again to be born, utterly at an end,—even that false ego shut in the prison of itself. And in him was completed the destruction of craving and evil desire, as a fire goes out for lack of fuel. For the man in whom is no separation from the Source, in whom is no ignorance, how shall he desire that which has no eternity but is transient as a morning dream? And over him Desire and Death—which indeed are one—had no more dominion. Thus first he found the way of perfect knowledge, and in the broad east the onrushing of the sun’s golden wheels was heard afar. So he reached at last the unfathomable source of Truth, beholding past, present, and future as one, having passed beyond the glimmer of the six senses into true perception, no longer gazing through a narrow window, but about and around him the wide horizon—and more. Illumined with all wisdom sat the Buddha, the Perfected One, having at last attained, and the light strengthened and grew in rapture. And about him the world lay calm and bright and a soft breeze lifted the leaves. And for seven days and nights sat our Lord beneath the Tree, lost in contemplation of the World as it Is, submerged in the ocean of love, having entered the Nirvana, most utterly at peace, and day and night—or what men call such—made their solemn procession about him unheeded, for he was lost in bliss, and his heart said: “Now, resting here, have I attained my birth-weary heart’s desire, having traversed many lives to this goal. Now have I slain the self, and the fetters are broken, and not for myself alone.” And lifting up his voice he cried aloud this song of triumph in the hearing of all worlds. “Many a house of life Has held me, seeking ever that which wrought These prisons of the senses, sorrow-fraught, Sore was my ceaseless strife. But now, Thou Builder of the body-prison,—Thou! I know thee! Never shalt thou build again These walls of pain, Nor raise the roof-tree of deceits, nor lay Fresh rafters on the clay. Broken the House is, and the ridge-pole split, Delusion fashioned it. Safe pass I hence, deliverance to attain.”[3] ----- [3] For this verse I have used Edwin Arnold’s translation slightly modified. ----- For now he knew that the builder of the prison, the cause of rebirth, the hinderer from the Peace was his own false self, the dreamer of dreams, the creator of false desires and illusions, and in him this false self was dead, and only the true, the Self that is mysterious and high and One with the One survived.