國清百錄 3.33

3.33

貧道初遇勝緣，發心之始，上期無生法忍、下求六根清淨，三業殷勤、一生望獲。不謂宿罪殃深致諸留難，內無實德，外召虛譽，學徒強集檀越自來。既不能絕域遠避，而復依違順彼自招惱亂。道退為虧，應得不得，憂悔何補。上負三寶、下愧本心，此一恨也。然聖法既差，自審非分，欲以先師禪慧授與學人，故留滯陳都八年弘法，諸來學者，或易悟而早亡、或隨分而自益，無兼他之才，空延教化，略成斷種。自行前缺、利物次虛，再負先師百金之寄，此二恨也。而年既西夕，恒惜妙道，思值明時願逢外護，初蒙四事既勵朽年，師與學徒四十，餘僧三百許，日於江都行道，亦復開懷待來問者，儻逢易悟用答王恩。而不見一人求禪求慧，與物無緣頓至於此，謬當信施化導無功，此三恨也。又作是念：此處無緣，餘方或有先因。荊潭之願願報地恩，大王弘慈霈然垂許。於湘潭功德粗展微心，雖結緣者眾，孰堪委業。初謂緣者不來，今則往求不得，推想既謬，此四恨也。於荊州法集，聽眾一千餘僧，學禪三百，州司惶慮謂乖國式，豈可聚眾用惱官人，故朝同雲合暮如雨散。設有善萠不獲增長，此乃世調無堪，不能諧和得所，五恨也。既再遊江都，聖心重法令著淨名疏。不揆闇識輒述偏懷，玄義始竟麾蓋入謁。復許東歸，而吳會之僧咸欣聽學，山間虛乏不可聚眾，束心待出訪求法門，暮年衰弱許當開化。今出期既斷，法緣亦絕，此六恨也。在山兩夏專治玄義，進解經文至佛道品，為三十一卷。將身不慎遂動熱渴，一百餘日競疾治改，際此夏末慮有追呼，束裝待期。去月十七日使人至山，止留一宿遽比螢光，早希進路行過剡嶺，次至石城氣疾兼篤，不能復前。此之義疏，口授出本一遍自治，皆未搜簡。經論僻謬尚多，不堪流布。既為王造，寧羞其拙，囑弟子抄寫後本仰簡。前所送玄義及入文者，請付弟子焚之。天挺睿智願一遍開讀，覽其大意餘無可觀。貧道灰壞雖謝，願留心佛法，詢訪勝德，使義門無廢。深窮佛教，治道益明，遍行遍學是菩薩行。如來滅度法付國王，貧道何人慧門憑委，欣然就盡沒有餘榮。但著述延歲，文義不同，悵然自慚。生來所以周章者，皆為佛法、為國土、為眾生。今得法門仰寄，三為具足六根釋矣。命盡之後，若有神力，誓當影護王之土境，使願法流衍以答王恩，以副本志。菩薩誓願誠而不欺，香火義深安知仰謝。願觀泡幻，知有為法一切無常，會而不離終不可得。唯當勤戒施惠以拒四山，早求出要，豈須傷法煩勞聖懷。蓮華香罏犀角如意，是王所施。今以仰別，願德香遐遠，長保如意也。南嶽大師滅度之後，未有碑頌。前蒙教許自制，願不忘此旨。南嶽師於潭州立大明寺，彌天道安於荊州立上明寺，前蒙教影護願光飾先德，為作檀越主。貧道在世六十年，未嘗作有為功德。年暮力弱多闕用心，又香火施重，近於荊州仰為造玉泉寺，修治十住寺，並蒙教囑。彼總管蘄郡公達奚儒。僧齎教書至夏口，而蘄公亡，書未及付，慈恩已足，願為玉泉作檀越主。今天台頂寺茅菴稍整，山下一處非常之好，又更仰為立一伽藍，始剪木位基命弟子營立，不見寺成冥目為恨。天台未有公額，願乞一名，移荊州玉泉寺貫十僧住天台寺，乞廢寺田為天台基業。寺圖并石像、發願疏，悉留仰簡。泰平聖世皇風整肅，菩薩淨土不可思議。切見諸州迭送租米，車脚皆三五倍於公斂不多私費。為重典章，處分別有深規。貧道不閑，忽言國式，輒謂無米之州運送宜爾，有米之州當地輪送，則無此私費。管窺未見，理若於式有妨，請不須論；於事有益，願為諮奏，使蒼生慶賴。然國是王國，民是王民，加修慈心撫育黎庶，犬馬識養，人豈忘恩乎。昔聞齊高氏，見負炭兵形容憔悴，愍其辛苦放令出家，唯一人樂去。齊主歎曰，人皆有妻子之愛，誰肯孤房獨宿，瞪視四壁，自儐山林？以此觀之，出家難得。今天下曠大賦斂寬平，出家者少，老僧零落日就減。前貫帳時或隨緣聽學，或山林修道不及帳名，雖復用心常懷憂懼，此例不多悉有行業，願許其首貫，則是度人出家，增益僧眾熾然，佛法得無量功德。昔三方鼎立，用武惜人；今太平一軌，修文修福，正是其宜。又末法眾僧多行不稱服，尚不挾人意，況扶經律。王秉國法兼匡佛教，有罪者治之、無罪者敬之，起平等不可思議心則功德無量。此等之事本欲面諮，未逢機會奄成遺囑，亦是為佛法、為國土、為眾生，若能留心功德仰賽。臨命口授言盡力窮，期迫戀多知復分說，大善知識菩提為期。沙門某開皇十七年十一月。

When this poor monk first encountered superior conditions and began to generate the resolve, I aspired above to the patience of the non-arising of dharmas, and sought below the purification of the six sense-faculties, striving diligently in the three modes of karma and hoping to attain them in a single lifetime. I did not foresee that my past misdeeds and calamities would be so deep as to bring about various hindrances: within, lacking true virtue; without, courting empty renown, disciples forcefully gathered, and dānapatis came on their own. Since I could not escape far into distant lands, yet accommodating and yielding to them, I brought affliction and confusion upon myself. The Way declined and suffered loss; what ought to have been attained was not attained—how can grief and regret make amends? Above, I have failed the Three Jewels; below, I am ashamed before my original aspiration: this is my first regret. Furthermore, since the sacred Dharma was lost to me, I examined myself and saw it was beyond my capacity, and wished instead to impart the dhyāna and wisdom of my late master to students; thus I lingered in the Chen capital for eight years propagating the Dharma. Among the scholars who came, some understood easily but died early; others benefited themselves only to their own capacity. Lacking the ability to guide others as well, I prolonged the teachings in vain, and the lineage was virtually cut off. My personal practice had failed earlier, and my benefiting of beings proved hollow; thus I again failed my late master's entrustment of a hundred pieces of gold: this is my second regret. Moreover, as my years drew to their twilight, I ever cherished the wondrous Way, longing to meet an enlightened age and hoping to encounter an external protector. When I first received the four requisites, inspiring my decaying years, I, together with forty disciples and some three hundred other monks, practiced the Way daily in Jiangdu, and also opened my heart to await those who came to inquire, hoping to meet someone of easy understanding to repay the Prince's kindness. Yet not a single person came seeking dhyāna or seeking wisdom. That my lack of affinity with beings should suddenly reach this extent, that I should mistakenly accept the offerings of the faithful while my transformative guidance was of no effect: this is my third regret. Again I thought: if there are no affinities here, perhaps there are past causes in other regions. Wishing to repay the kindness of my native land through my vow for Jingzhou and Tanzhou, the Great Prince's vast compassion showered down in granting permission. In Xiangtan, my merit and virtue roughly expressed my slight intentions; but though many formed karmic bonds, who was capable of being entrusted with the enterprise? At first I thought those with affinity did not come; now, having gone to seek them, none were to be found. My presumption having proved mistaken: this is my fourth regret. At the Dharma assembly in Jingzhou, the audience numbered over a thousand monks, with three hundred studying dhyāna. The prefectural authorities, fearful and anxious, deemed it a violation of state regulations: how could a crowd be gathered so as to trouble the officials? Thus, in the morning they gathered like clouds, and in the evening they scattered like rain. Even if there were sprouts of goodness, they were not permitted to grow. This was an inability to accommodate the mundane world, failing to harmonize and find a proper place: this is my fifth regret. Having then traveled a second time to Jiangdu, Your Sagely Mind, esteeming the Dharma, commanded me to compose a commentary on the Vimalakīrti[-nirdeśa]. Without measuring my own dim understanding, I straightaway expressed my partial views; when the profound meaning was just completed, your banners and canopy arrived for an audience. You then permitted me to return east; the monks of the Wu region all rejoiced at hearing and studying it, but in the mountains, depleted and destitute, a crowd could not be assembled, so I restrained my heart to await going out to seek the Dharma gates, promising that in my declining years and debility I would expound and transform. Now the time for going out has been cut short, and the Dharma affinities are also severed: this is my sixth regret. During two summer retreats in the mountains, I concentrated on editing the profound meaning, and proceeded to explain the text of the sūtra up to the 'Buddha Path' chapter, making thirty-one fascicles. Neglecting my own person, I consequently provoked fever and thirst; for over a hundred days, racing against illness, I edited and revised it. Arriving at the end of this summer, anxious that a summons might come, I packed my baggage and awaited the date. On the seventeenth day of last month, an envoy arrived at the mountain; staying only for a single night, swiftly as a firefly's gleam, eager to advance on the road early, we crossed Shan Ridge. Next we reached Shicheng, where my qi disorder grew severe, and I could go no further. As for this doctrinal commentary, I dictated the original draft and revised it once myself, but it has not yet been carefully searched and scrutinized. It still contains many errors regarding the sūtras and treatises, and is unfit to be circulated. Yet since it was composed for the Prince, how could I be ashamed of its clumsiness? I have instructed my disciples to transcribe the latter draft for your humble inspection. As for the previously sent profound meaning and the commentary on the text, please hand them to my disciples to be burned. You, naturally endowed with sagacious wisdom, I pray will read through it once to grasp its general meaning; the rest is not worth viewing. Although this poor monk is about to perish and turn to ashes, I pray that you will keep your mind on the Buddha Dharma, seek out and inquire of those of superior virtue, and ensure that the gates of doctrine are not neglected. Probe deeply into the Buddha's teachings, and the way of governing will be increasingly enlightened; practicing universally and studying universally is the bodhisattva's practice. When the Tathāgata entered extinction, he entrusted the Dharma to kings. Who am I, that the gate of wisdom should be entrusted to me? Joyfully I approach my end; in death there is no leftover glory. But my writings extended over years, and the phrasing and meanings are inconsistent, leaving me disconsolate and ashamed of myself. My bustling about throughout my life was entirely for the sake of the Buddha Dharma, for the sake of the country, and for the sake of sentient beings. Now that I have the Dharma gate to humbly entrust, the three aims are fulfilled and my six senses are at rest. After my life ends, if I possess spiritual power, I vow to invisibly protect the Prince's territory, causing the teachings of my vows to spread widely to repay the Prince's kindness and fulfill my original aspiration. A bodhisattva's vow is sincere and does not deceive; the bond of incense and lamp is profound—how can I express my gratitude? I pray that you will contemplate foam and illusion, and know that all conditioned dharmas are impermanent; meeting without parting is ultimately impossible. You should only be diligent in the precepts and bestow charity to withstand the four mountains, and swiftly seek the essentials of liberation; why should you injure the Dharma and trouble your sagely heart? The lotus incense burner and rhinoceros-horn ruyi sceptre were bestowed by the Prince. Now taking my humble leave, I pray that the fragrance of your virtue will reach far, and that you will long maintain all as you wish. After the Great Master of Nanyue passed into extinction, there has been no stele inscription. Previously, I was favored by your command granting permission to compose one yourself; I pray you will not forget this intention. Master Nanyue established Daming Monastery in Tanzhou, and Dao'an, [vast as] the filling sky, established Shangming Monastery in Jingzhou. Previously favored by your command of invisible protection, I pray you will glorify past virtues and act as their head dānapati. This poor monk has lived sixty years in the world and has never performed conditioned merit. In my twilight years, with failing strength, I have often lacked the heart to do so; yet the offerings of incense and lamp were weighty, and recently in Jingzhou, I humbly built Yuquan Monastery and repaired Shizhu Monastery on your behalf, having also received your instructions. Daxirù, the Commander of that region and Duke of Qijun, died at Xiakou just as a monk was carrying your instructional letter there; the letter could not be delivered, yet your loving kindness was already complete. I pray you will act as the dānapati of Yuquan. Now the thatched hermitage at the summit temple of Tiantai is somewhat orderly, and at the foot of the mountain there is an extraordinarily fine site; again I have humbly founded a saṅghārāma on your behalf. We have just cut the timber and laid out the foundation, and I commanded my disciples to construct it; not seeing the temple completed, closing my eyes in death will be my regret. Tiantai does not yet have an official placard; I beg to request a name, to transfer the registrations of ten monks from Yuquan Monastery in Jingzhou to reside at the Tiantai monastery, and request the fields of abandoned temples to serve as Tiantai's permanent estate. The diagram of the temple, together with the stone image and the vow document, are all left for your humble inspection. In this peaceful and sagely age, the imperial breeze is orderly and pure; the bodhisattva's pure land is inconceivable. I have observed that when various prefectures transmit their tax grain in turns, the cartage fees are three to five times the official levy, causing not a little private expense. Out of esteem for the statutes, there are separate deep regulations for dispositions. This poor monk is unversed [in state affairs] and rashly speaks of national regulations, but I venture to suggest that for prefectures without grain, transportation is appropriate as such; while prefectures with grain should deliver it in turn locally, so there would be no such private expense. My narrow view has not seen all; if this principle conflicts with regulations, please do not consider it; if it benefits affairs, I pray you will memorialize it to the throne, so the common people may rejoice and rely upon it. Moreover, the state is the Prince's state, and the people are the Prince's people; if you cultivate a loving heart to nurture the common folk, even dogs and horses recognize being fed—how could people forget kindness? In the past, I heard of Emperor Gao of Qi: seeing soldiers carrying charcoal with haggard appearances, he pitied their hardship and permitted them to leave household life, yet only a single man was willing to go. The ruler of Qi sighed: 'All men cherish wives and children; who is willing to sleep alone in a solitary room, stare at the four walls, and banish himself to the mountains and forests?' From this perspective, leaving household life is difficult to attain. Today the realm is vast and taxes are light and fair; few leave household life, and the elderly monks are dwindling, decreasing day by day. At the previous registration, some were traveling to listen and study according to conditions, or practicing the Way in mountains and forests, and were not entered onto the register. Although striving earnestly, they constantly harbor worry and fear. Such cases are not many, and all possess religious practice; I pray you will allow them to register their names. This would be ordaining people to leave household life, increasing the monastic assembly, and causing the Buddha Dharma to blaze forth, obtaining immeasurable merit. Formerly, three kingdoms stood like a tripod, using arms and husbanding men; now that all under heaven is united in peace, cultivating civil virtues and cultivating merit is truly what is appropriate. Furthermore, in the final age of the Dharma, many monks do not act in accordance with their robes; they do not even win human approval, let alone uphold the sūtras and vinaya. The Prince upholds the laws of the state and also supports the Buddha's teachings: punish those who are guilty, and revere those who are without guilt. If you give rise to an impartial, inconceivable mind, the merit will be immeasurable. Matters such as these I originally wished to consult you about in person, but missing the opportunity, they have suddenly become my dying testament. They too are for the sake of the Buddha Dharma, for the sake of the country, and for the sake of sentient beings; if you can bear them in mind, the merit will be repaid to you above. Dictated on the brink of death, words exhausted and strength depleted, time presses and longings are many—how can I explain it all? Great Good Friend, let bodhi be our appointed meeting! The śramaṇa so-and-so, eleventh month of the seventeenth year of Kaihuang.