續高僧傳 12.32

12.32

釋道慶。姓戴。其先廣陵。後進度江家于無錫。年十一出家。事吳郡建善寺藏闍梨。服勤盡禮同侶所推。十七出都。聽彭城寺講成實論。大義餘論皆莫之遺。所以時匠目曰。懸日月於懷中。注江河於口內者。誠歸於慶矣。既荷嘉問倍志兼常。利齒聞於既往。高座屬於茲日。及陳祚云亡法朋彫散。東歸無錫居鳳光寺。學徒載萃誨誘如初。後止毘壇弘業寺。專事闡弘無棄涼暑。然其美容止善言笑。淡名利厚交遊。毫翰奔涌琴詩婉妙。風神閑縱韻宇虛凝。應物有方履機無忤。以武德九年八月終於寺房。春秋六十一。即以其月二十三日。窆於扶塘之山津也。穿壙之日。鍬鍤纔施。感白鶴一群自天而下。遙曳翻翔摧藏哀唳。自非道光遠被。何由致此異祥。同寺沙門法宣曰。余與伊人言忘道狎。京輦少年已欣共被。他鄉衰暮更喜同袍。月席風筵接腕晤語。吾子經堂論室促膝非異人。豈意玄穹殲我良友。千行徒洒百身寧贖。未能抑筆聊書短銘。其曰。十力潛景。四依匡世。踵德連暉伊人是繼。宮牆戒忍燈炬禪慧。並驅生林分庭安叡。論堂振玉義室芬蘭。坐威師子眾遶栴檀。道潔塵外理析談端。四儀式序三業惟安。穢土機窮勝人現滅。帳留餘影車迴去轍。隴月孤照墳泉幽洌。竹露暫團松風長切。氣運有終德音無絕。

Śramaṇa Daoqing had the secular surname Dai. His ancestors were originally from Guangling; later generations crossed the Yangtze River and settled in Wuxi. At the age of eleven he left home and served Ācārya Zang of Jianshan Monastery in Wu Commandery. Serving diligently and fulfilling all ritual propriety, he was respected by his peers. At seventeen he went to the capital and listened to lectures on the Satyasiddhiśāstra at Pengcheng Monastery; nor did he neglect any of the principal doctrines of the other treatises. Therefore the masters of the time characterized him by saying: "One who suspends the sun and moon within his breast, and pours the Yangtze and the Yellow River from his mouth—this truly applies to Daoqing!" Having shouldered such high praise, he redoubled his ambitions far beyond ordinary men. His sharp faculty of speech was renowned in the past; his presence on the lofty seat belonged to the present day. When the Chen dynasty fell and the fellowship of the Dharma was dispersed, he returned east to Wuxi and resided at Fengguang Monastery, where students gathered again and he instructed and guided them as before. Later he stayed at Hongye Monastery at the Pitan, devoting himself to expounding and propagating the Dharma without setting it aside in cold or heat. He possessed a handsome deportment and was skilled in conversation and laughter; he was indifferent to fame and gain, yet earnest in fellowship. His writing flowed like a fountain, and his zither-playing and poetry were elegant and subtle. His spirit was tranquil and unconstrained, his demeanor serene and poised. He responded to situations with proper measure and met circumstances without friction. In the eighth month of the ninth year of Wude, he passed away in his monastery room at the age of sixty-one. On the twenty-third day of that same month, he was interred at the mountain ferry of Futang. On the day the grave was excavated, just as the spades and shovels were first applied, a flock of white cranes was moved to descend from the sky, drifting and wheeling from afar, breaking down in mournful cries. Were it not that the radiance of his practice reached far, how could it have elicited such an extraordinary auspicious sign? Śramaṇa Faxuan of the same monastery said: "With this man, words were forgotten and the Way was intimately shared. In the capital during our youth, we already rejoiced in sharing a blanket; in our fading old age in a strange land, we were even happier to wear the same robes. On moonlit mats and breezed-swept seats, we joined wrists and conversed; in the hall of sūtras and the chamber of treatises, my friend sat knee-to-knee with me as no ordinary companion. How could I anticipate that the dark heavens would snatch away my good friend! Though a thousand lines of tears be shed in vain, how could a hundred bodies redeem him? Unable to restrain my brush, I briefly write this short inscription: 'The Ten Powers have hidden their light; the Four Reliances sustain the world. Continuing virtue and connecting brilliance, this man was the successor. His moral discipline and patience were as high palace walls, his dhyāna and wisdom like blazing torches. He ran abreast with Sengsheng and Tanlin, and shared the hall with Dao'an and Sengrui. In the hall of treatises he shook forth jades; in the chamber of meaning he was fragrant as orchids. Seated with the majesty of a lion, he was surrounded by the assembly like sandalwood. His path was pure beyond the dust; his reason dissected the subtleties of debate. His four deportments were well-ordered; his three karmas were ever tranquil. When his capacity to save the defiled land was exhausted, this superior person manifested extinction. His curtain retains his lingering shadow; the chariot has turned on its departing tracks. The ridge moon shines in solitude; the tomb spring is deep and chilled. The dew on the bamboo briefly gathers; the wind in the pines is ceaselessly sharp. The movement of vital breath has an end, but his virtuous renown shall never cease.'"