緇門警訓 7.2

7.2

夫出家者為厭塵勞。求脫生死。休心息念斷絕攀緣。故名出家。豈可以等閑利養埋沒平生。直須兩頭撒開中間放下。遇聲遇色。如石上栽花。見利見名如眼中著屑。況從無始以來不是不曾經歷。又不是不知次第。不過翻頭作尾。止於如此。何須苦苦貪戀。如今不歇更待何時。所以先聖教人只要盡却今時。能盡今時更有何事。若得心中無事。佛祖猶是冤家。一切世事自然冷淡。方始那邊相應。爾不見。隱山至死不肯見人。趙州至死不肯告人。匾檐拾橡栗為食。大梅以荷葉為衣。紙衣道者只披紙。玄泰上座只著布。石霜置枯木堂與人坐臥。只要死了爾心。投子使人辦米同煮共餐。要得省取爾事。且從上諸聖有如此榜樣。若無長處如何甘得。諸仁者。若也於斯體究。的不虧人。若也不肯承當。向後身恐費力。山僧行業無取。忝主山門。豈可坐費常住。頓忘先聖付囑。今者輒學古人為住持。體例與諸人議定。更不下山不赴齋。不發化主。唯將本院莊課一歲所得。均作三百六十分。日取一分用之。更不隨人添減。可以備飯則作飯。作飯不足則作粥。作粥不足則作米湯。新到相見茶湯而已。更不煎點。惟置一茶堂。自去取用。務要省緣專一辦道。又況活計具足風景不疎。花解咲鳥能啼。木馬長嗚石牛善走。天外之青山寡色。耳畔之流水無聲。嶺上猿啼露顯中宵之月。林間鶴唳風回清曉之松。春風起而枯木龍吟。秋葉凋而寒林華發。玉階鋪苔蘚之紋。人面帶煙霞之色。音塵寂爾消息沈然。一味蕭條無可輒向。山僧今日向諸人面前說家門。已是不著便。豈可更去陞堂入室。拈槌竪拂。東呵西棒。張眉努目。如癎病發相似。不惟屈枕上座。況亦孤負先聖。爾不見。達磨西來。少室山下面壁九年。二祖至於立雪斷臂。可謂受盡艱辛。然而達磨不曾措了一辭。二祖不曾問著一句。還喚達磨作不為人得麼。二祖做不求師得麼。山僧每至說著古聖做處。便覺無地容身。慚愧後人軟弱。又況百昧珍羞遞相供養。道我四事具足。方可發心。只恐做手脚不迭。便是隔生隔世去也。時光似箭深為可惜。雖然如是。更在諸人從長相度。山僧也強教爾不得。諸仁者還見古人偈麼。山田脫粟飯。野菜淡黃虀。喫則從君喫。不喫任東西。伏惟同道各自努力。珍重。

Now, those who leave home do so out of weariness with worldly toil and to seek liberation from birth and death. Putting the mind to rest, stilling thoughts, and severing clinging conditions—hence it is called leaving home. How can one casually allow gain and provision to bury one's entire life? You must cast aside both extremes and put down the middle. Encountering sound and form should be like planting flowers upon rock; seeing gain and fame should be like specks of dust in the eye. Moreover, it is not as though you have never experienced them since beginningless time, nor that you do not know their order. It is merely turning head to tail—it stops only at this. Why must you bitterly crave and cling? If you do not rest now, what further time do you await? Therefore, when former sages taught people, they only wanted them to exhaust the present moment. If one can exhaust the present moment, what other business could there be? If one attains a mind devoid of business, even the buddhas and patriarchs are enemies. All worldly affairs will naturally grow cold and bland, and only then will there be accord with that other side. Have you not seen? Yinshan, to his death, refused to see people; Zhaozhou, to his death, refused to make appeals to people; Bianyan gathered acorns and chestnuts for food; Damei took lotus leaves for clothing; the Daoist of Paper Clothing wore only paper; Sthavira Xuantai wore only coarse cloth; Shishuang established the Hall of Withered Wood for people to sit and recline, merely wishing to put an end to your mind; Touzi had people prepare rice to boil and eat together, merely wishing that you comprehend your matter. Furthermore, the sages of old served as such examples; if they had no superior quality, how could they have willingly endured it? Worthy friends! If you investigate and penetrate this, you will truly not disappoint anyone. If you refuse to take responsibility, I fear you will waste effort in future lives. This mountain monk's practice is devoid of merit, and I am ashamed to head this monastery; how could I sit idly and consume the common property, suddenly forgetting the bequest of former sages? Now I venture to follow the ancients as abbot: the rules have been deliberated and settled with all of you. I shall no longer descend the mountain, nor attend feasts, nor send out alms-collecting masters. We will only take the annual revenue from this monastery's estate, divide it evenly into three hundred and sixty portions, and use one portion per day, without adding or subtracting according to the number of people. If it is sufficient to prepare rice, we shall make rice; if rice is insufficient, we shall make congee; if congee is insufficient, we shall make rice water. When newcomers meet with us, there will be only tea and soup; there will be no decoctions and confections prepared. We will merely set up a tea hall where each may fetch and use it, striving to reduce entanglements and singularly cultivate the Way. What is more, our livelihood is fully sufficient and the scenery is not sparse: flowers understand how to smile, birds can cry; the wooden horse neighs long, the stone ox runs well. Beyond the sky, green mountains have little color; beside the ears, flowing water is soundless. Apes howling on the ridge reveals the midnight moon amidst dew; cranes calling in the forest brings back the pines of a crisp dawn in the wind. The spring breeze rises, and the withered tree roars like a dragon; autumn leaves wither, and the cold grove bursts into blossom. The jade steps are paved with mossy patterns; human faces bear the hue of mist and cloud. Sound and dust are quiet; news is submerged. It is entirely desolate, with nothing to pursue. For this mountain monk to speak today of our family tradition before all of you is already out of place. How could I further ascend the hall, enter the room, hold up the mallet, raise the whisk, shout at the east and strike at the west, widen the eyes and glare, as if having a seizure of epilepsy? Not only would that wrong you venerable ones on the cushions, but it would also betray the former sages. Have you not seen? When Bodhidharma came from the West, he faced the wall for nine years beneath Mount Shaoshi; the Second Patriarch went so far as to stand in snow and cut off his arm—it can be said they endured every hardship. Yet Bodhidharma never uttered a single word, and the Second Patriarch never asked a single question. Can you still say that Bodhidharma did not act on others' behalf? Can you say that the Second Patriarch did not seek a master? Whenever this mountain monk speaks of the conduct of the ancient sages, I feel there is nowhere to hide myself, ashamed that later generations are so weak and frail. Furthermore, with hundreds of flavors of fine delicacies mutually offered, saying, 'Only when my four requisites are complete can I generate the resolve,' I only fear that your hands and feet will not be swift enough, and you will already have passed into another life and another world. Time is like an arrow; it is deeply to be regretted. Even so, it still depends on you all considering it thoroughly; this mountain monk cannot force you. Worthy friends, have you seen the verse of the ancients? / 'Unhulled rice from mountain fields, / wild greens and pale yellow pickles: / if you eat, it is up to you to eat; / if not, you are free to go east or west.' / I humbly pray that fellows on the Path will each exert their efforts. Take care!