續傳燈錄 28.79

28.79

上曰。因甚却如此。師對。纔涉思惟即成剩法。纔落陰界即是生死根本。參禪如斵輪擬議勿干涉。如擊石火似閃電光。已是鈍置了也。何故法無二法。心無別心。天無二日。所以德山悟道了封却佛殿門乃云。有爾便無我有我便無爾。方能見道。近有一士人。到寺見方丈壁間臣所作偈頌。乃云。好偈頌。臣問曰。聞公學伊川之學。排佛氏是否。士人不對。臣又問曰。只如德山示眾云。釋迦彌勒是擔屎漢。十地菩薩。是守田奴。莫也是排佛麼。士人惘然。臣曰。這裏有一條活路。若看得見受用不盡。如看不見非但招因帶果。更有事在。觀公所見未曾遇人。且坐喫茶。前日又有一官人問。長老年多少。臣云。七十歲。官人云。頤養得好。臣云。菜羹粥飯僧何足道。官人云。性命事如何。臣云。老僧無性命。官人云。如何無。臣云。也無如何。官人遂搖頭云。第恐未是在。臣云。非但橫點頭未是。直饒正點。頭也未是在。官人良久再問云。官員與禪僧如何。臣云。只一般。官人云。官員進身仕路。禪僧宴坐林間。安得一般。臣云。適來未與公相見時也一般。而今相見了也一般。直饒相讚相毀也一般。所以道。那伽常在定無有不定時。官人云。長老語異。可別覓一盃茶。臣云。寺事多故不能從欵。大率古今言句正如　陛下向時所作布袋贊。其略曰。別別分明一點紅爐雪豈容存駐也。

His Majesty said, "Why is it like this?" The Master replied, "The moment one touches deliberation, it becomes superfluous dharma; the moment one falls into the skandhas and dhātus, that is the root of birth and death. In practicing Chan, one is like a wheelwright: hesitation has no relevance. Like striking flint for a spark, like the flash of lightning—already one has been blunted and stalled! Why? Phenomena have no two dharmas, mind has no separate mind, and heaven has no two suns. Therefore, when Deshan awakened to the Way, he bolted the door of the Buddha hall and said, 'If you exist, then I do not; if I exist, then you do not.' Only then can one perceive the Way. Recently a scholar came to the monastery and saw the gāthās written by me on the wall of the abbot's quarters. He said, 'Fine verses!' I asked, 'I hear that you study the teachings of Yichuan and reject Buddhism—is that so?' The scholar did not answer. I asked again, 'Take Deshan's addressing the assembly: "Śākyamuni and Maitreya are dung-carrying fellows; the bodhisattvas of the ten stages are field-guarding slaves." Could that also be rejecting Buddhism?' The scholar was bewildered. I said, 'Here there is a living path. If you can see it, your use of it will be inexhaustible; if you cannot see it, not only will you incur causes and suffer effects, there will be further troubles ahead. Seeing what you hold, you have not yet met a true master. Please sit and drink tea.' The other day, another official asked, 'How old are you, Elder?' I said, 'Seventy years old.' The official said, 'You have nurtured yourself well.' I said, 'What is there to say of a monk living on vegetable broth and gruel rice?' The official said, 'What about the matter of life and destiny?' I said, 'This old monk has no life or destiny.' The official said, 'Why is there none?' I said, 'There is no "why" either.' The official then shook his head and said, 'I'm afraid that is not yet it.' I said, 'Not only is shaking your head sideways not it; even if you nodded your head straight, that still would not be it.' After a long pause, the official asked again, 'How do officials compare with Chan monks?' I said, 'They are just the same.' The official said, 'Officials advance along the career path of service, while Chan monks sit quietly in the forests. How can they be the same?' I said, 'Just now, before I met you, it was the same; now that we have met, it is also the same; even if we praised each other or reviled each other, it would still be the same. Therefore it is said: "The Nāga is ever in samādhi; there is no time when it is not in samādhi."' The official said, 'The Elder's words are strange. May I seek another cup of tea?' I said, 'Because monastery duties are numerous, I cannot keep you company.' In general, the phrases of past and present are just like the praise for Budai composed earlier by Your Majesty, which roughly said, 'Each distinct and clear; how could a speck of snow on a red-hot stove be allowed to remain?'"