萬松老人評唱天童覺和尚頌古從容庵錄 1.9

1.9

Formerly, when I was in the capital, there were very many Zen elders, but only Venerable Master Cheng of Sheng'an had an awe-inspiring, clear spirit and an open, dignified manner in his words; I alone esteemed him. Therefore I once visited him regarding the Way of the Patriarchs and repeatedly questioned him using what I had attained from the encounters and sayings of ancient venerable elders. Master Cheng occasionally granted approval, and I also considered myself to have attained it. When I later met with sorrow and hardship, my ambition for official rank and fame was shelved high away, and my seeking of the Way of the Patriarchs became ever more urgent. Thereupon, taking up those previous matters again, I visited Master Cheng of Sheng'an. Sheng'an overturned his previous verdict and did not approve my view. I was greatly perplexed. Sheng'an leisurely said to me: 'Formerly, you held an important official position, and moreover, Confucians mostly do not firmly believe in Buddhist scriptures, but merely gather sayings and encounter-stories to furnish conversation; therefore I did not dare to apply the awl and hammer severely. Now I gauge your heart: you are indeed asking me for the sake of the fundamental affair. How could I still follow my past mistake and not speak bitter words? I am old; I have never been versed in Confucianism and cannot instruct you. There is Old Man Wansong, who is fully equipped in both Confucianism and Buddhism, thoroughly versed in doctrine and realization, and unhindered in eloquence. You may go see him.' After I had an audience with Wansong, I cut off all human callers and cast aside household affairs. Even in severe cold and great heat, there was no day I did not practice. Burning the lamp to continue through the night, forgetting sleep and food, for nearly three years, I mistakenly received the Dharma grace and erroneously obtained his seal of succession. He named me Layman Zhanran Congyuan. In the course of studying with him, his sharp dynamic was unfathomable and his transformations were limitless: towering like a ten-thousand-fathom peak that cannot be climbed or gazed up to, billowing like a ten-thousand-acre wave that cannot be bounded. Look at it before you, and suddenly it is behind. Looking back at what I had studied in the past, it was all merely broken clods and gravel. Ah! When one ascends the Eastern Mountain, Lu appears small; when one ascends Mount Tai, the empire appears small—how could this be empty talk? Those who have not entered the inner threshold, hearing these words, will surely say that I have forgotten the root and am fond of the strange. Only Pingshan Xianxian can reflect with me! Thereafter, by imperial order, I attended the traveling camp and accompanied the Western Expedition, separated from the Master by I know not how many thousands of miles. The Master's usual Dharma words, verses, and hymns were all collected by my Dharma brother Master Long; now I could no longer obtain their outlines. In our lineage, there is Tiantong, whose one hundred verses on old cases are hailed as supreme masterpieces. I firmly requested Wansong to provide commentary and appraisal on these verses to inspire later students. Back and forth through nine letters, across the obstacles of seven years, I was finally favored with his sending them. While stranded solitary in the Western Regions for several years, I suddenly received this book; it was like waking from drunkenness, like reviving from death. Leaping and cheering, I faced east and bowed my head to the ground. Opening and reading it again and again, I caressed the volume and sighed, saying: 'Wansong has come to the Western Regions!' Every single word and single character points to the ultimate aim; he draws the verdict and brings forth the eye, surpassing antiquity and the present, fully serving as a model for ten thousand generations. If not one who is a teacher and model to humans and gods and balances creation, who could take part in this? Together with several friends in the traveling palace, I swam and roamed in this book day and night, as if climbing the Great Treasure Mountain or entering the Ocean of the Flower-Treasury: rare and precious objects mutually arranged in vast and complete supply. Meeting them left and right, the eyes were enriched and the heart satisfied. How could worldly language describe even one ten-thousandth of it? Not daring to monopolize its beauty, I thought to share it with all under Heaven. In the capital, only my Dharma brother Congxiang has a friendship with me that forgets age. I respectfully sent a letter, requesting that it be printed and circulated in the world to bequeath to future generations. Thereupon I preface it, saying: The Buddha-patriarchs and various masters buried their roots a thousand fathoms deep; their hundred cases of encounter appear in the world and sprout shoots. Tiantong should not have sprouted branches; how could Wansong bear to extend the vines? Zhanran has added a hemp cord on top of the branches and vines, piercing through the nostrils of those who chase scents and pursue wind, tripping up the heels of those who walk the mystery and embody subtlety. If you wish to set your heels firmly on the ground and raise your nostrils to the heavens, you must first pass right through these entangling vines before you can succeed. Written on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, the jiashen year, by Yila Chucai Jinqing of Qishui, in the city of Alima in the Western Regions.