宗鏡錄 42.5.2

42.5.2

當易破爛壞之時。 落日西垂。 萎華欲謝。 如甘蔗之滓。 無三種出家禪誦之味。 劫勇力而全因老賊。 擒壯色而將付死王。 猶蓮遭雹而摧殘。 似車折軸而無用。 若枯河乏水。 不利於人。 如殘炷無油。 勢寧得久。 病苦者。 四大變易乖違故苦。 百節酸疼。 四支苦楚。 能壞一切安隱樂事。 由此經言。 如人壯美。 王妃竊愛。 遣信私通。 王便捉獲。 挑其眼目。 截其耳鼻。 刖其手足。 形容頓改。 為人惡賤。 病苦所逼。 以是難堪。 為人所惡。 亦復如是。 為苦惱愁憂之本。 作死亡怖畏之由。 如雹壞苗。 似怨所逼。 劫奪正命。 摧滅壯容。 減福力而退大菩提。 增放逸而失真善本。 此名病苦。 死苦者。 壽命變壞故苦。 風刀解支節。 無處不苦痛。 張口歎息。 手足紛亂。 翻睛沮沫。 捫摸虛空。 汗液交流。 便洟零落。 昔雖假以沐浴。 必歸不淨。 昔雖假以塗熏。 必歸臭穢。 昔時王位。 財寶榮盛。 親族婦妾萬億。 于時頓捨。 獨往後世。 無一相隨。 臥置床枕。 橫尸偃仰。 父母妻子槌胸哽咽。 眾人號慕披髮拍頭。 雖生戀仰之悲。 終致永分之痛。 或埋殯墳陵。 肉消骨腐。 或有露尸以施身肉。 禽獸螻蟻。 交橫樝掣。 或以火焚。 臭煙蓬𡋯。 四面充塞。 人所傷嗟。 悲慟絕聲咸歸故里。 唯餘灰糞。 獨從風土。 平生意氣。 觸處陵雲。 一旦長辭。 困沾霜月。 是知祿命盡處。 臨死之時。 如劫風吹散。 猶瀑布漂流。 往無所遮。 到不能脫。 向深遠處。 怖境常驚。 於幽闇中。 孤魂獨逝。 怨臣恒遂曾不覺知。 死王所追。 無能免者。 大涅槃經云。 夫死者。 於嶮難處。 無有資糧。 去處懸遠。 而無伴侶。 晝夜常行。 不知邊際。 深邃幽闇。 無有燈明。 入無門戶。 而有處所。 雖無痛處。 不可療治。 往無遮止。 到不得脫。 無所破壞。 見者愁毒。 非是惡色。 而令人怖。 敷在身邊。 不可覺知。 釋云。 於嶮難處者。 二十五有恐畏之世。 無有資糧者。 無善法以自資。 去處懸遠者。 生死無窮也。 而無伴侶者。 魂靈自逝也。 晝夜常行不知邊際者。 隨業漂流。 循環無際。 深邃幽闇無有燈明者。 死是後相。 一入死分。 昏沈難出生死長夜。 故名深邃。 死已。 多入三塗大黑闇處。 故云無有燈明。 入無門戶而有處所者。 死入身內。 不因門戶。 即身辯死。 名有處所。 雖無痛處者。 臨欲死時。 雖有五根。 無有知覺也。 不可療治者。 報終必死。 世醫拱手也。 往無遮止到不得脫者。 業盡報終。 時至必遷。 自業所追。 無人繫縛。 無所破壞見者愁毒者。 報色雖滅。 膚體不毀。 而見悲痠莫不愁毒。 非是惡色而令人怖者。 無恐人相貌。 而見者惶懼。 敷在身邊不可覺知者。 此明人死。 在身最後邊。 然不能知死之時節也。 又諸識昏昧。 六腑空虛。 餘息淹淹。 心魂愀愀。 無常經偈云。 命根氣欲盡。 支節悉分離。 眾苦與死俱。 此時徒歎恨。 兩目俱翻上。 死刀隨業下。 意想並慞惶。 無能相救濟。 所以先德云。 人命無常。 一息不追。 千載長往。 幽途綿邈。 無有資糧。 苦海攸深。 船筏安寄。 聖賢訶棄。 無所恃怙。 年事稍去。 風刀不賒。 豈可晏然。 坐待痠痛。 譬如野干失耳尾牙。 詐眠望脫。 忽聞斷頭。 心大驚怖。 遭生老病。 尚不為急。 死事不賒。 那得不怖。 怖心起時。 如履湯火。 六塵五欲。 不暇貪染。 如阿輸柯王弟。 大帝王。 聞栴陀羅。 朝朝振鈴。 一日已盡。 六日當死。 雖有五欲。 無一念受。 行者怖畏。 苦到懺悔。 不惜身命。 如野干決絕。 無所思念。 如彼怖王。 是知萬禍之因。 眾苦之本。

When [the body] is about to easily rupture and decay, the setting sun sinks in the west, and the withered flowers are about to fall. Like the dregs of pressed sugarcane, it lacks the threefold flavor of monastic meditation and recitation. One's vigor and strength are utterly robbed by the thief of old age; one's robust countenance is seized and about to be handed over to the King of Death. It is like a lotus crushed by hail, or like a cart rendered useless with a broken axle. Like a dried-up river lacking water, it brings no benefit to others; like an expiring lamp-wick with no oil, how could its state last long? As for the suffering of illness: because the four great elements alter and conflict, there is suffering. The hundred joints ache, the four limbs are afflicted with agony, and all peaceful and happy matters can be destroyed. Thus a sūtra states: 'Just as a man who is vigorous and handsome, secretly loved by the king's consort, sends a message to have an illicit liaison, whereupon the king catches him, gouges out his eyes, cuts off his ears and nose, and amputates his hands and feet, so that his appearance suddenly transforms and he is despised and reviled by others—pressed by the suffering of illness, it is hard to bear in this way, and being despised by others is also just like this.' It is the root of anguish, sorrow, and worry, and serves as the cause of fear of death. Like hail ruining sprouts, or like being cornered by an enemy, it plunders correct livelihood, destroys one's robust complexion, diminishes the power of merit to cause one to retrogress from great bodhi, and increases heedlessness so that one loses the root of true goodness. This is called the suffering of illness. As for the suffering of death: because the life-span alters and is destroyed, there is suffering. Wind-knives sever the limbs and joints; nowhere is without agonizing pain. One's mouth opens with gasping sighs, hands and feet flail in confusion, one's eyes roll back and foam spills, and hands grope at empty space. Sweat flows profusely, and feces and urine leak out. Though in the past it was treated with bathing, it inevitably returns to impurity; though in the past it was treated with ointments and incense, it inevitably returns to foul stench. One's former royal throne, abundant treasures and glory, and tens of thousands of relatives, wives, and concubines are all abandoned in an instant. One departs alone to future existences, with not a single one accompanying. One lies prostrate on the bed and pillow, a corpse stretched out face-up. Parents, wife, and children beat their chests and choke with sobs; the multitude wails in longing, disheveling their hair and beating their heads. Though they produce the sorrow of loving attachment, it ultimately results in the pain of eternal parting. Some are buried in graves and mounds, where their flesh dissolves and bones rot; some have their exposed corpses given over to donate bodily flesh, crisscrossed and torn apart by birds, beasts, mole crickets, and ants; or [the corpse] is incinerated by fire, where foul smoke billows up and fills all four quarters. Others grieve and sigh; weeping bitterly until their voices fail, they all return to their hometowns, while only ashes and filth remain, left solely to the wind and earth. One's lifelong spirit and drive once towered above the clouds at every turn; yet once one bids farewell forever, one is stranded beneath the frost and moon. Hence we know that where one's allotted lifespan ends, at the verge of death, it is like being dispersed by the kalpa-winds or swept away by a torrential cataract: nowhere can halt one's departure, and upon arrival one cannot escape. Toward a deep and distant destination, frightening realms perpetually terrify; amid gloomy darkness, the solitary soul departs alone. Resentful enemies constantly pursue without one ever being aware; pursued by the King of Death, no one can be spared. The Mahāparinirvāṇasūtra states: 'Death means that in a perilous and difficult place, one has no provisions; where one goes is suspended far away, yet there are no companions. Constantly travelling day and night, one knows no boundary. Profound, deep, and darkly obscure, there is no lamp-light. One enters without doors, yet there is a location. Although there is no specific aching spot, it cannot be cured. In going there is no halting; upon arrival one cannot escape. Nothing is broken or destroyed, yet those who see it are filled with sorrow and bitterness. It is not an ugly form, yet it makes people terrified. Laid out beside the body, it cannot be perceived.' An exposition states: ''In a perilous and difficult place' means the world of fright and fear of the twenty-five realms of existence. 'One has no provisions' means having no good dharmas with which to sustain oneself. 'Where one goes is suspended far away' means birth-and-death is inexhaustible. 'Yet there are no companions' means the soul departs by itself. 'Constantly travelling day and night, one knows no boundary' means drifting along in accordance with karma, cycling without limit. 'Profound, deep, and darkly obscure, there is no lamp-light': death is the final characteristic; once entering the division of death, it is a torpor from which it is difficult to emerge, the long night of birth-and-death, hence called 'profound and deep.' Having died, one mostly enters the great dark places of the three bad destinies, hence it is said 'there is no lamp-light.' 'One enters without doors, yet there is a location': death enters inside the body without relying on doors; right upon the body one distinguishes death, which is termed 'having a location.' 'Although there is no specific aching spot': at the verge of death, although one has the five sense faculties, there is no sensory awareness. 'It cannot be cured': when retribution ends, one inevitably dies; worldly physicians fold their hands. 'In going there is no halting; upon arrival one cannot escape': karma is exhausted and retribution concludes; when the time arrives, one inevitably departs; pursued by one's own karma, there is no one who binds one. 'Nothing is broken or destroyed, yet those who see it are filled with sorrow and bitterness': although the retribution form is extinguished, the skin and body are not damaged, yet among those who see it with aching grief, none is not filled with sorrow and bitterness. 'It is not an ugly form, yet it makes people terrified': there is no frightening human appearance, yet those who see it are panicked and afraid. 'Laid out beside the body, it cannot be perceived': this clarifies that a person's death lies at the body's uttermost limit, yet one cannot know the time and season of death.' Furthermore, all consciousnesses are dim and murky, the six viscera are empty, the remaining breath lingers faintly, and the mind and soul are anxious and sad. A verse in the Sūtra on Impermanence states: / 'When the breath of the life-faculty is about to end, / The limbs and joints all separate. / All sufferings accompany death; / At this moment, one laments and regrets in vain. / Both eyes roll upward together; / The knife of death falls according to karma. / Thoughts and perceptions are entirely flustered and alarmed; / No one is able to rescue and deliver.' / Therefore, past worthies stated: 'Human life is impermanent: once a breath is not followed by another, one departs for a thousand years. The dark road stretches far and vast, without any provisions; the sea of suffering is profoundly deep, where can a boat or raft be relied upon? Admonished and abandoned by sages and worthies, there is nothing to depend upon. As one's years gradually slip away, the wind-knives brook no delay. How could one remain at ease, sitting and awaiting aching pain? For instance, when a jackal lost its ears, tail, and teeth, it feigned sleep hoping to escape, but upon suddenly hearing its head would be cut off, its mind was exceedingly terrified. When encountering birth, old age, and sickness, it is still not urgent; but the matter of death brooks no delay—how could one not be terrified? When the terrified mind arises, it is like treading on boiling water and fire: for the six sense-dusts and five desires, one has no leisure to covet or be stained by them. It is like the younger brother of King Aśoka, a great imperial king, who heard a caṇḍāla ringing a bell morning after morning: one day had passed, and in six days he was to die; though he had the five desires, not for a single thought-moment did he enjoy them. A practitioner's fearful and thoroughly contrite repentance spares neither body nor life, like the jackal's desperate resolve, with nothing else to contemplate, like that terrified king. From this we know that [this] is the cause of myriad calamities, the root of all sufferings.