六祖大師法寶壇經 1.177

1.177

On a certain month and day in the tenth year of Yuanhe, an imperial edict posthumously praised the Sixth Patriarch of Caoxi, Master Neng, bestowing the posthumous title Dajian. In truth, the Prefect of Guangzhou, Ma Zong, reported it in a memorial, and on this account his memorial was granted, honoring the Way with an exalted title so that all return together to cherishing the good without barriers between different teachings. With praise of a single word, both Chinese and barbarians greatly cherished him, because he had attained his proper place. Duke Ma treated this matter with respect and caution; wishing to hand it down to posterity, he consulted masters of literature. Liu, the present Prefect of Liuzhou from Hedong, composed the previous stele. Three years later, the monk Daolin led his disciples from Caoxi, saying: "We wish to erect a second stele to record the aspirations of the students." After the Tathāgata's parinirvāṇa, in the middle five hundred years, Kāśyapa Mātaṅga and Dharmaratna came to China with sūtras, and people first heard his words, just like seeing the daybreak amid heavy darkness. In the later five hundred years, Bodhidharma came to China with the Dharma, and people first transmitted his mind, just like beholding the bright sun at dawn. From Bodhidharma, transmitted six times down to Dajian, it was like stringing wish-fulfilling gems: there was earlier and later, but no difference. What the world calls the true school is the so-called Sudden Gate. Originally, Bodhidharma came together with the Buddha's robe, transmitting it to those who attained the Way as a true seal. When it reached Dajian, he put it aside and did not transmit it. Could he have regarded it as a fish trap and hare snare? Or as straw dogs? Or was it that no one was equal to himself, and so it was better to put it aside? I cannot know.