續傳燈錄 21.44

21.44

明州育王寶鑑法達禪師。僧問。此事惟己自知。為什麼眾生隨類得解。師曰。眼見耳聞。僧云。兵隨印轉。師曰。德山臨濟。問末後一句今日願聞。師曰。昨日有人問我。直得杜口。僧云。為什麼如此。師曰。不於湘水投明月。且向天童看白雲。問無根樹子還解生苗也無。師曰。擬待答話又恐孤負闍黎。問作者相逢時如何。師曰。平出。僧云。學人有擬在。師便打。僧云。不伸三拜安得周旋。師曰。別處即得。師乃曰。一法雖彰萬善無。到頭何必用工夫。目前十字縱橫也。自是時人落半途。大眾作麼生是究竟一句。設使潛神守智。猶是止宿草菴。假饒息念觀空。亦成守株待兔。虛生浪死。秖為懷寶迷邦滯殼迷封。良由貪程太速。直得言語道斷心行處滅。於衲僧分上著什麼來由。假使心法雙亡兩頭截斷。亦是按牛頭喫草。爭似耳聞目覩口說心思。千山萬水目前分。南北東西路頭在。失之於旨魚魯刀刁。得之於心渾金璞玉。流出三教皆指一心。左右逢原萬物皆備。到這裏計什麼仁義禮智元亨利貞。說什麼菩提涅槃常樂我淨。直須拈放一邊。且看山僧執金剛寶劍把定要津。以文殊為先鋒。以普賢為殿後。觀音勢至掩耳偷鈴。彌勒釋迦吞聲飲氣。直得皇風蕩蕩。舜日明明。天下衲僧誰敢向鬼窟裏作活計。還信得及麼。良久曰。道泰不傳天子令。時清休唱太平歌。又曰。半接城隍半倚村。一溪流水半山雲。寂寥滋味有誰得。萬世金輪王子孫。所以見聞覺知思量分別。一見便見。無第二月。堯天舜日。誰能夜泛孤舟。白月清風。何必冬行春令。門當戶對。極目無限青山。鳥叫猿啼。縱步從他差路。栗蓬吞了。更無一物礙人古鏡重磨。不離舊時光彩。日日共虛空把手。時時與古佛對談。堪嗟多少飢人。却去飯籮裏餓殺。育王恁麼道。了有三十棒。本合自當。賴遇眾人不知。且教拄杖子吞聲飲氣又曰。居山日少出山多。惹得間名孰奈何。爭似白雲深處坐。野猿幽鳥任高歌。大眾。拈花示眾。空自點胸。微笑破顏落第二月。少林面壁傍若無人。半夜渡江貪程太速。更乃說佛說祖頭上安頭。演妙談真泥中洗土。攢花簇錦口是禍門。寂爾無言守株待兔。總不如是無孔鐵鎚。行道之人如何即是。還會麼。白雲雖是無心物。到頭還是戀青山。

Chan Master Fada of Baoxian at Yuwang in Mingzhou. A monk asked, 'This matter is known only to oneself; why do sentient beings attain understanding according to their kind?'
The master said, 'Eyes see, ears hear.'
The monk said, 'Troops follow the turning of the tally.'
The master said, 'Deshan and Linji.'
He asked, 'Today I wish to hear the final word.'
The master said, 'Yesterday someone asked me, and it made me keep my mouth firmly shut.'
The monk said, 'Why was it like that?'
The master said, 'Do not cast the bright moon into the Xiang River; just look at the white clouds toward Tiantong.'
He asked, 'Can a rootless tree still sprout shoots or not?'
The master said, 'If I were to wait to answer, I fear I would fail you, ācārya.'
He asked, 'What is it like when masters meet?'
The master said, 'They come out on level ground.'
The monk said, 'I have an intention.'
The master struck him.
The monk said, 'Without offering three prostrations, how could there be courteous exchange?'
The master said, 'In another place, that would be fine.'
The master then said: 'Though the one Dharma is displayed, the myriad wholesome deeds are absent. In the end, why must one apply effort? Before one's eyes, the crossroads run vertically and horizontally; it is merely that people of the time fall midway. Assembly, what is the ultimate word? Even if you concentrate your spirit and guard your intellect, it is still lodging in a grass hut. Even if you extinguish thoughts and contemplate emptiness, it also becomes waiting by the stump for a hare. Living in vain and dying aimlessly is only because of harbouring a jewel while wandering lost in foreign lands, or being stuck in the husk and confused by boundaries. Truly, it comes from being in too great a hurry on the road. Even if the path of words is cut off and the workings of the mind are extinguished, what relevance does that have for a patch-robed monk? Even if mind and dharmas are both extinguished and the two ends are cut off, that too is pressing an ox's head to eat grass. How can that compare to what the ear hears, what the eye sees, what the mouth speaks, and what the mind ponders? Thousands of mountains and myriads of waters are distinguished before one's eyes; the roads to south, north, east, and west are right there. Miss it in the meaning, and you mistake "fish" for "Lu", "knife" for "Diao"; grasp it in the mind, and it is pure gold and unworked jade. Flowing forth, the three teachings all point to the one mind; left and right, everything meets its source, and the myriad things are all complete. Arriving here, what reckoning is there of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, or the origination, flourishing, advantage, and firmness of the *Changes*? What talk is there of bodhi, nirvāṇa, or permanence, bliss, self, and purity? You must simply toss them aside. Just watch this mountain monk brandish the vajra jewel sword, guarding the vital ford, with Mañjuśrī as the vanguard and Samantabhadra bringing up the rear; Avalokiteśvara and Mahāsthāmaprāpta cover their ears to steal the bell; Maitreya and Śākyamuni choke back their voices and swallow their breath. Truly, the imperial influence is vast and broad, and the sun of Shun is bright and clear. Who among the patch-robed monks of the world would dare to make a living in a demon's cave? Can you have full faith in this?'
After a long pause, he said: 'When the Way flourishes, the Son of Heaven's decree is not passed down; when the times are clear, cease singing songs of great peace.'
He also said: 'Half adjoining the city walls, half leaning on the village; / A stream of flowing water, half a mountain of clouds. / Who attains this lonely flavour? / The descendant of the King of the Golden Wheel for ten thousand generations. / Therefore, seeing, hearing, perceiving, and knowing, thinking and discriminating—upon one sight, you see immediately; there is no second moon. Under the skies of Yao and the sun of Shun, who can drift in a lone boat by night? In the bright moon and pure breeze, why must one enact spring orders in winter? Doors match and gates face each other; the infinite green mountains fill the gaze. Birds call and monkeys cry; walking briskly, let them go astray. Having swallowed the chestnut burr, there is not another thing to obstruct a person; the ancient mirror polished anew does not depart from its former brilliance. Day after day, hand in hand with empty space; moment after moment, in conversation with the ancient Buddhas. Alas, how many starving people go and starve to death right inside a rice basket! For Yuwang to speak like this, there are thirty blows of the stick; originally I should take them myself. Luckily the assembly does not realize it, so for now I make the staff swallow its breath and choke back its voice.'
He also said: 'The days dwelling in the mountains are few, the times leaving the mountains are many; / Stirring up idle fame, what can one do about it? / How can that compare to sitting deep among the white clouds, / Letting wild monkeys and secluded birds sing aloud at will? / Assembly! Twirling a flower and showing it to the assembly is an empty beating of one's own chest; breaking into a smile falls into the second moon. Wall-gazing at Shaolin was behaving as if no one were around; crossing the river in the middle of the night was being in too great a hurry on the road. Furthermore, speaking of Buddhas and speaking of Patriarchs is putting a head on top of a head; expounding the wondrous and discussing the true is washing mud in the dirt. Piling up flowers and clustering brocade, the mouth is the gate of calamity; completely silent and wordless is waiting by the stump for a hare. None of these is as good as an awl with no eye. How should a person of practice proceed? Do you understand? / Though the white clouds are things without mind, / In the end they still cherish the green mountain.'