佛祖歷代通載 20.62

20.62

（十五　己丑）　普庵禪師入寂。名印肅。袁州宜春余氏子。六歲夢一僧點其心曰。汝他日當自省。既覺以意白母。視之當心有一點紅瑩。大似世之櫻珠。父母因此許從壽隆院賢公出家。年二十七落𩭄。越明年受戒。師容貌魁奇智性巧慧。賢器之。勉讀法華。師曰。甞聞諸佛元旨必貴了悟于心。數墨巡行無益於事。遂辭師游湖湘。謁大溈牧庵忠公。因問。萬法歸一。一歸何處。忠公竪起拂子。師遂有省。後歸受業院。紹興癸酉間有隣寺慈化者。眾請住持無常住。師布衾紙衣晨粥暮食禪定外。唯閱華嚴經論。一日大悟遍體汗流。喜曰。我今親契華嚴境界。遂述頌曰。揑不成團撥不開。何須南嶽又天台。六根門首無人用。惹得胡僧特地來。自後發為言句動悟幽顯。有不期然而然者。一日忽有僧名道存。冐雪至。師目之喜曰。此迺吾不請之友矣。遂相與寂坐。交相問答。或笑或喝。僧曰。師再來人也。非久當大興吾教。迺指雪書頌而行。至斯慕向者眾。師乃隨宜為說。或書偈與之。有病患者。折草為藥與之即愈。或有疫毒人迹不相往來者。與之頌。咸得十全。至於祈禳雨暘伐怪木毀淫祠。靈應非一。由是鼎新梵宇或問。師修何行而得此。師當空畫云。還會麼。云不會。師云。上心不須說。其峻機多類此。忽一日索筆書頌於方丈西壁云。乍雨乍晴寶象明東西南北亂雲深。失珠無限人遭劫。幻應權機為汝清○枯木救度復示眾曰。諸佛不出世。亦無有涅槃。入吾室者必能元契矣。善自護持無令退失。索浴更衣跏趺而寂。時乾道五年七月二十一日也。世壽五十五。僧臘二十八。奉全身于塔焉。

([Song Xiaozong, Qian dao] fifteenth year, yichou [1169]): Chan Master Pu'an entered quiescent cessation. His name was Yinsu, a son of the Yu family of Yichun in Yuanzhou. At six years of age, he dreamed that a monk touched his heart and said, "You will awaken by yourself in the future." When he woke up, he told his mother what had happened; she looked and found a bright red dot directly over his heart, very much like a cherry in the world. His parents therefore permitted him to leave home under Venerable Xian of the Shoulong Cloister. At twenty-seven he shaved his head, and in the following year he received the precepts. The master had an imposing and extraordinary appearance and an agile and keen intelligence; Xian recognized his capacity and urged him to read the Saddharmapuṇḍarīka. The master said, "I have heard that the fundamental intent of all the Buddhas must be realized and awakened in the mind; counting ink and tracing lines is of no benefit to the matter." Thereupon he took leave of his master and traveled through Hunan, paying respects to Venerable Mu'an Zhong of Mt. Dawei. He asked, "The ten thousand dharmas return to the one; where does the one return to?" Venerable Zhong held up his fly-whisk. The master thereupon had an awakening. Later, he returned to his original training cloister. During the Shaoxing era, in the guiyou year [1153], there was the neighboring Cihua Monastery; the assembly invited him to become abbot, but there was no communal property. The master wore a cloth blanket and paper robes, ate morning gruel and evening meals, and apart from seated meditation, only read the Avataṃsaka Sūtra and treatises. One day he attained great enlightenment, his whole body dripping with sweat. Joyfully he said, "I have now personally accorded with the realm of the Avataṃsaka!" He then composed a verse: / 'Rolled, it forms no ball; brushed away, it will not disperse. / What need for Mt. Nanyue or Mt. Tiantai again? / At the gates of the six sense-bases, no one uses it; / It just draws the foreign monk to come especially.' / From then on, his spoken words moved and awakened both the unseen and the manifest, with things turning out so without prior calculation. One day, a monk named Daocun suddenly arrived braving the snow. The master looked at him and said with joy, "This is indeed my uninvited friend!" Thereupon they sat silently together, exchanging questions and answers, sometimes laughing and sometimes shouting. The monk said, "The Master is one who has come again; before long you will greatly revitalize our teaching." He then pointed to the snow, wrote a verse, and departed. After this, those who admired and turned to him grew numerous; the master taught them according to circumstances or wrote gāthās for them. If someone was sick, he broke off a blade of grass as medicine, gave it to them, and they were healed at once. Or if an epidemic raged so that people dared not visit one another, he gave them a verse, and all recovered completely. As for praying for rain or sunshine, felling uncanny trees, and destroying illicit shrines, his miraculous responses were manifold. Because of this, the Buddhist monastery was thoroughly renovated. Someone asked, "What practice did the master cultivate to attain this?" The master drew in the air and said, "Do you understand?" The person said, "I do not understand." The master said, "The highest mind need not be spoken of." His sharp operational responses were mostly like this. Suddenly one day, he called for a brush and wrote a verse on the west wall of the abbot's quarters: / 'Now rain, now clear, the precious image is bright; / East, west, south, and north, chaotic clouds are deep. / Countless people lose the pearl and meet calamity; / Illusory responses and expedient devices clear it away for you.' / ○ To deliver the dry wood, he further addressed the assembly, saying: "The Buddhas do not appear in the world, nor do they pass into nirvāṇa. Those who enter my chamber will certainly be able fundamentally to accord with it. Protect and maintain it well; do not let it backslide and be lost." He asked for a bath, changed his robes, sat cross-legged, and passed away into quiescence. It was the twenty-first day of the seventh month of the fifth year of Qiandao [1169]. His worldly age was fifty-five, and his monastic age was twenty-eight. His whole body was enshrined in a stūpa.