宋高僧傳 20.36

20.36

釋鑑空，俗姓齊，吳郡人也。少小苦貧，雖勤於學而寡記持。壯歲為詩，不多靡麗。常困遊吳、楚間，已四、五年矣。干謁侯伯，所潤無幾。錢或盈貫，則必病生，用罄方差。元和初遊錢塘，屬其荒儉，乃議求餐於天竺寺。至孤山寺西，餒甚不前，因臨流雪涕，悲吟數聲。俄有梵僧臨流而坐，顧空笑曰：「法師秀才，旅遊滋味足未？」空曰：「旅遊滋味則已足矣。法師之呼，一何乖謬？」蓋以空未為僧時名君房也。梵僧曰：「子不憶講《法華經》於同德寺乎？」空曰：「生身已四十五歲矣，盤桓吳、楚間，未甞涉京口。又何洛中之說？」僧曰：「子應為飢火所燒，不暇憶故事。」遂探囊出一棗，大如拳許，曰：「此吾國所產，食之者，上智知過去未來事，下智止於知前生事耳。」空飢極食棗，掬泉飲之。忽欠呻，枕石而寢，頃刻乃悟，憶講經於同德寺如昨日焉。因增涕泣，問僧曰：「震和尚安在？」曰：「專精未至，再為蜀僧矣。今則斷攀緣也。」「神上人安在？」曰：「前願未滿。」「悟法師焉在？」曰：「豈不記香山石像前戲發大願乎？若不證無上菩提，必願為赳赳貴臣。昨聞已得大將軍矣。當時雲水五人，唯吾得解脫，獨汝為凍餒之士也。」空泣曰：「某四十許年日唯一餐，三十餘年擁一褐，浮俗之事決斷根源。何期福不完乎！坐於飢凍？」僧曰：「由師子座上廣說異端，使學空之人心生疑惑。戒珠曾缺，羶氣微存，聲渾響清，終不可致。質傴影曲，報應宜然。」空曰：「為之奈何？」僧曰：「今日之事，吾無計矣。他生之事，警於吾子焉。」乃探鉢囊取一鑑，背、面皆瑩徹，謂空曰：「要知貴賤之分，脩短之期，佛法興替，吾道盛衰，宜一鑒焉。」空覽照久之，謝曰：「報應之事，榮枯之理，謹知之矣。」僧收鑑入囊，遂挈而去，行十餘步，旋失所在。空是夕投靈隱寺出家，受具足戒。後周遊名山，愈高苦節。大和元年詣洛陽，於龍門天竺寺遇河東柳珵，親說厥由向珵。珵聞空之說，事皆不常，且甚奇之。空曰：「我生世七十有七，僧臘三十二，持鉢乞食，尚九年在世。吾捨世之日，佛法其衰乎！」珵詰之，默然無答。乃索珵筆硯，題數行於經藏北垣而去。曰：「興一沙衰恒河沙，兔而罝，犬而拏，牛虎相交與角牙，寶檀終不滅其華。」

Shi Jiankong's secular surname was Qi, and he was a native of Wujun. From youth he suffered from poverty; though diligent in study, he retained little in his memory. In his prime he composed poems, few of which were ornate. He was often destitute while traveling between Wu and Chu for four or five years already. He called upon marquises and earls, but what he gained was meager. Whenever coins filled a string, illness would inevitably arise, easing only when his funds were exhausted. In the early Yuanhe era he traveled to Qiantang, which happened to be afflicted by famine, so he resolved to seek food at Tianzhu Temple. Reaching the west of Gushan Temple, he was too starved to proceed. Leaning over the flowing water, he wiped away his tears and chanted mournfully several times. Presently, an Indian monk sat down facing the stream, looked at Kong, and smiled, saying, 'Dharma Master xiucai, have you had enough of the flavor of traveling?' Kong said, 'Of the flavor of traveling, I have had enough indeed. But why such an absurd form of address as "Dharma Master"?' For before becoming a monk, Kong's style was Junfang. The Indian monk said, 'Do you not remember lecturing on the Lotus Sūtra at Tongde Temple?' Kong said, 'In this life I am already forty-five years old; I have lingered between Wu and Chu and have never stepped into Jingkou. Whence then this talk of Luoyang?' The monk said, 'You must be scorched by the fire of hunger, with no leisure to recall former affairs.' Thereupon he reached into his bag and brought out a date as large as a fist, saying, 'This is produced in my country. Those who eat it, if of superior wisdom, know past and future affairs; if of inferior wisdom, they are limited to knowing affairs of their previous life.' Kong, extremely hungry, ate the date and scooped spring water to drink. Suddenly he yawned, pillowed his head on a stone, and slept. In a moment he awoke, remembering lecturing on the scripture at Tongde Temple as though it were yesterday. Thereupon he wept even more and asked the monk, 'Where is the Venerable Zhen?' He replied, 'His single-minded dedication was insufficient, so he has once again become a monk in Shu. Now, however, he has severed conditioned grasping.' 'Where is the Worthy Shen?' He replied, 'His former vow is not yet fulfilled.' 'Where is Dharma Master Wu?' He replied, 'Do you not remember making a grand vow in jest before the stone image at Xiangshan? "If I do not realize unexcelled bodhi, I surely vow to become a valiant and noble minister." Yesterday I heard he has already become a great general. Of the five of us cloud-and-water wanderers back then, only I attained liberation, and you alone became a freezing, starving scholar.' Kong wept and said, 'For some forty years I have eaten only one meal a day, and for more than thirty years I have worn a single hemp garment, resolutely cutting off the roots of fleeting worldly affairs. How could I have expected that my blessings would be so incomplete, leaving me to suffer in hunger and cold?' The monk said, 'Because from the lion seat you expounded heterodoxies at length, causing those studying emptiness to give rise to doubt. The pearl of the precepts was once damaged, and a mutton stench still slightly lingered. If the sound is muddled, the resonance can never be pure. When the substance is stooped, the shadow is bent; the retribution is as it should be.' Kong said, 'What can be done about it?' The monk said, 'Regarding today's affairs, I have no plan. But regarding affairs of other lives, I can give you an admonition.' Thereupon he reached into his bowl bag and took out a mirror whose back and front were both limpid and clear. He said to Kong, 'If you wish to know the division between noble and base, the span of long and short life, the rise and fall of the Buddha-Dharma, and the prosperity and decline of our path, you should gaze into it.' Kong gazed into it for a long time, then thanked him, saying, 'Affairs of retribution and the principle of flourishing and withering—I have respectfully come to know them.' The monk put the mirror back into his bag, lifted it, and departed. After taking more than ten steps, he was suddenly nowhere to be found. That evening, Kong went to Lingyin Temple, received pravrajyā, and underwent upasampadā. Thereafter he traveled around famous mountains, his austere discipline becoming ever loftier. In the first year of Dahe, he went to Luoyang, where he met Liu Cheng of Hedong at Tianzhu Temple in Longmen and personally related these origins to Cheng. When Cheng heard Kong's account, finding the matters completely extraordinary, he was greatly amazed. Kong said, 'I have lived seventy-seven years in the world, with thirty-two saṅgha years, holding my bowl to beg for food; I still have nine years to remain in the world. On the day I depart the world, will the Buddha-Dharma not decline?' When Cheng questioned him, he was silent and made no answer. He then asked Cheng for brush and inkstone, wrote several lines on the north wall of the scripture repository, and departed. It read: 'One grain of sand flourishes, sands of the Ganges decline; / A hare in the snare, a hound still tearing it; / Ox and tiger cross, clashing horns and fangs; / Yet the precious sandalwood never loses its blossoms.'