四明尊者教行錄 7.55

7.55

予與四明法智大師為友四十餘年，及終不得一哭於寢門之下，由路有五六百里、春有飛霰累旬、身有六十六歲，故杖屐不利收往也。嗟歎之不足，乃詠歌之句云：天上無雙月，人間秖一僧。覽者無謂予厚於所知、薄於所不知，但見其解行有卓卓出人之異，寄極言以暢其所懷耳。異者何也？一家教部，毘陵師所未記者，悉記之。四三昧，人所難行者，悉行之。雖寒暑相代，脇不至席，六十有九而終。其疾且頓，而行道講訓無所閒然，門徒請宴不從。逮加趺氣盡，後及火化，舍利莫知其幾千數矣。噫！非知之艱，行之惟艱也。詩二章章八句。

I was friends with the Great Master Fazhi of Siming for more than forty years. Yet upon his decease, I was unable to weep once before his mortuary bed, because the road was five to six hundred li, sleet flew for successive decades of days in spring, and I myself was sixty-six years of age; thus my staff and sandals were ill-suited to carrying me there. Lamentation being insufficient, I then composed lines of verse, saying:
“In the heavens there is no second moon;
Among humans there was only this single monk.”
Let readers not suppose that I was generous toward what I knew and stingy toward what I did not know; I merely saw that in understanding and practice he possessed an extraordinary preeminence surpassing others, and so I entrusted these utmost words to unburden what was in my heart. Wherein lay his extraordinary qualities? As for the doctrinal works of our one school, all that Master Piling had not annotated, he fully annotated. As for the four kinds of samādhi, which are difficult for people to practice, he fully practiced them all. Though winter and summer alternated, his ribs never touched the mat; at sixty-nine he reached his end. His illness came suddenly, yet in practicing the Way and lecturing to instruct he never paused; when his disciples begged him to rest, he would not consent. When he sat cross-legged and his breath expired, and his body was subsequently cremated, the relics could not be counted, amounting to many thousands. Alas! It is not the knowing that is hard; it is only the practicing that is hard! There are two poems, each of eight lines.