汾陽無德禪師語錄 3.5

3.5

Arousing the aspiration, one bids farewell to kin—what power could the mind desire?
Taking refuge in the Buddha and leaving the household, one is distinct from the worldly, single-minded.
Longing for the Dharma to become a monk,
once the śīla is fully possessed
and the Dharma robes drape the body,
one provides no delicacies for parents,
nor serves kings or lords as a subject.
Practicing purity, like ice and like jade,
seeking neither fame nor profit, casting off defilement and dust,
one receives the reverence and veneration of humans and devas,
and inherits the diligent respect of Śakra and Brahmā.
Pondering one's virtue and practice, weighing where [offerings] come from:
how will one repay them on behalf of the lineage?
Concentrating on what practice will one be able to consume them?
There is only seeking and investigating—no other path.
Afflicting body and mind, traversing mountains and rivers,
taking white-browed masters as companions for homage and study,
braving snow and pressing through frost without shunning the cold,
crossing waters and piercing clouds, subduing dragons and ghosts.
The iron staff flies, the copper bottle is filled;
one asks not about the lengths and shortcomings of the world.
Lineage companions in the monastic groves must deliberate,
cleaving away the four propositions and hundred negations all at once,
exploring the mysterious dynamic to clarify the eye of the Way.
Entering the room, needles are applied; one must undergo forging.
Expelling the heterodox and revealing the correct, one should naturally know;
do not let body and mind become distracted.
The Way is hard to walk; dust easily overtakes.
In each and every thing, one must see clearly.
Toiling and laboring, running east and west,
viewed from past to present, the busyness is limitless.
In my walking now, I diligently discern for myself;
do not lose the companion that came along at the start.
Lifting the foot and moving a step must be distinct and clear;
be utterly vigilant against being vainly ordered about by another.
Entering the monastic groves, walking the Great Way,
not clinging to the world's empty vastness,
firmly seeking the ultimate principle without sparing labor,
cutting away luxury and ceaseless contrivance.
A hundred-patch robe, a cloud-and-water jacket;
with no-mind toward the myriad affairs, one is free from affliction.
Of a thousand kinds of cleverness, none applies effort;
one steps straight out from the path of cyclic rebirth and death.
I urge my fellow wearers of robes to seek right view;
do not be like fools, frequently changing course.
Throwing oneself over cliffs or standing in the snow with a bold body and mind—
only then does the Dharma King constantly shine and appear.
Requesting instruction with diligence, paying respect with swiftness,
not avoiding cold or heat, ever feeling inadequate;
only because the ground of mind is not yet settled,
one envies not glory and fears not humiliation,
directly causing one to see into one's nature without following another,
oneself understanding how to sing the song of returning home.
Passing one's whole life in true peace and joy,
vast and unfettered, with nothing to rely upon;
meeting occasions and conditions in the four quarters and eight directions,
leaving the myriad phenomena entirely to broad vastness.
Repaying the four kindnesses, pulling out the three realms of existence,
asking and answering according to the capacity, it is easy to open the mouth.
Meeting by chance across the five lakes and four seas,
a single clash of thunderous sound, a lion's roar;
leisurely and self-at-ease, overflowing with joy,
throughout the great earth, heaven and earth, there is no fault.
Clearly I report to you, cloud-and-water monks:
remember to face south and look at the Northern Dipper.
In praise it is said:
Traversing the monastic groves across five lakes and four seas,
through myriad leagues and a thousand mountains, it is not easy to seek.
Face-to-face seeing the ancestral lineage, clarify seeing into your nature;
do not mistake the false ginseng for true ginseng.