傳法正宗記 4

English (machine translation) 4

Language: English

4.1

Compiled by the Śramaṇa Shi Qisong of Dongshan, Tengzhou, under the Song.

Biography of the Twenty-First Patriarch of India, the Mahāsattva Vasubandhu
Biography of the Twenty-Second Patriarch of India, the Mahāsattva Manorhita
Biography of the Twenty-Third Patriarch of India, the Mahāsattva Haklenayaśas
Biography of the Twenty-Fourth Patriarch of India, the Venerable Simha
Biography of the Twenty-Fifth Patriarch of India, the Venerable Bāśiasita

4.3

Biography of the Twenty-First Patriarch of India, the Mahāsattva Vasubandhu

4.4

Vasubandhu was a native of the kingdom of Rājagṛha, surnamed Viśākha. His father was called Guang Gai (Bright Canopy), and his mother was called Yan Yi (Solemnity and Singleness). The Mahāsattva was born together with his younger brother; both had auspicious portents, but the Mahāsattva's were particularly superior. Originally, because Guang Gai was extremely wealthy yet had never had an heir, he planned with his wife, Yan Yi, to go together to pray for a son at the stupa of the Buddha north of the city. After they prayed, that night Yan Yi indeed dreamed of two pearls: one was constantly bright, and the other was sometimes bright and sometimes dim; she swallowed both of them. Thereupon she became aware that she was pregnant. Seven days later, an arhat monk named Xianzhong happened to arrive at their house and said: 'I followed an extraordinary aura from another country to this place. Who is in your household?' Guang Gai immediately invited him in and bowed together with his wife. Xianzhong avoided Yan Yi alone and would not accept her bow. The husband secretly found it strange, saying: 'How base is this monk's etiquette! He does not yield to a man, yet shows respect to a woman.' He feigned making an offering of a precious pearl, wishing to test his discernment and capacity. Xianzhong accepted it without declining. Seeing that he remained as unmoved as before, Guang Gai then asked him truthfully: 'Venerable Sir, why do you not accept the bow of me, a man, yet avoid a woman?' Xianzhong said: 'Because you are an ordinary mortal, I accepted your bow and received what was offered only to aid your merit. Your wife is currently pregnant with a bodhisattva, a vessel of the Supreme Vehicle. When he appears in the world, he will be named Vasubandhu. The people he will liberate will be as limitless as multitudes of my kind. Therefore I avoided her; it was not out of esteem for a woman.' Guang Gai then apologized to him, saying: 'The Venerable Sir is a sage who can know what has not yet happened.' Xianzhong spoke again: 'There is yet another son conceived with him, whose past name was Cuni. He was once a wild magpie that went to the Snow Mountains and nested upon the crown of the Tathāgata's head. Soon, through the condition of meeting the Buddha, he was reborn as the king of the kingdom of Nadī. When the Tathāgata came to his country, he explained his past causes to him and further prophesied: "More than five hundred years after my demise, you will again be born into the Viśākha family of the city of Rājagṛha, sharing the same womb with the holy Vasubandhu. That holy one is the patriarchal master of the twenty-first generation of the Bhadrakalpa. That man will further produce a holy disciple named the Venerable Mahābala." The king of Nadī rejoiced at his fortune and thereupon offered a jeweled canopy to him. The Buddha further prophesied: "Because you will later meet this bodhisattva, you will obtain rebirth in the Trāyastriṃśa Heaven."' The king then recited a verse in praise. Later, Yan Yi indeed gave birth to two sons, with the Mahāsattva born first. While in swaddling clothes, he was gentle, virtuous, and easy to rear, unlike ordinary infants. As he grew a little older, his aspirations were transcendent and lofty. At the age of fifteen, he sought to leave the household under the arhat Guangdu. Bodhisattva Vibhāha conferred the precepts upon him. He admired Kāśyapa and cultivated himself exclusively through dhūta practices; hence the people of the time esteemed him, calling him the 'Universal Dhūta'. Soon he met the Mahāsattva Jayata, who stimulated his great wisdom, and he thus received the entrustment of the Dharma. He subsequently traveled to convert various regions, arriving at the kingdom of Nadī. Originally, that country was plagued by vicious elephants that wrought destruction, so that living beings could not sustain their lives. When its king, named Changzizai (Always Sovereign), had two sons—the elder was named Mahāra, aged forty, and the younger was named Manorhita, aged thirty—as Manorhita reached thirty years of age, the harm from the elephants ceased, and the people of the country were at peace; yet none knew upon whom they depended. When the Mahāsattva entered his country, the king invited him to receive offerings in the palace, and thereupon asked: 'How do the customs of my humble country compare with the purity and beauty of Rājagṛha?' The Mahāsattva said: 'Rājagṛha was formerly sheltered by the virtues of three Buddhas, whereas this country happens to be blessed by the merit of two sages.' The king asked: 'Who are the two sages?' He replied: 'Formerly the Buddha's prophecy stated: "Again five hundred years after my demise, the king of the kingdom of Nadī, of the kṣatriya clan and named Duoman, will have a son named Manorhita, who will possess great supernatural power surpassing ten Nārāyaṇas." This is the first. As for the second, I too am included among them.' Shortly thereafter, a messenger rushed in to report: 'Myriads of elephants are about to press upon the capital city.' The king was anxious and asked Vasubandhu: 'How can this be resisted?' The Mahāsattva said: 'There is no need to deploy troops; merely command Prince Norhita to face them, and the peril will resolve itself.' The king asked: 'Is that possible?' He replied: 'This boy will not only intimidate myriads of elephants; the more there are, the more he can handle.' Thereupon he ordered Norhita to go out south of the city. Norhita faced the elephants, patted his belly, and let out a great roar. Even the city walls and houses shook; the herds of elephants collapsed to the ground, unable to rise, and after a short while they all galloped away. Only then did the people of the country realize that their thirty years of peace were due to his protection. Because his son's spiritual power was so superior, the king marveled greatly at him and said to the Mahāsattva: 'This son was prophesied by the Buddha in the past, and moreover, his supernatural power is not something the mundane world can retain. I pray the Venerable Sir accept him to leave the household.' The Mahāsattva also thought: 'If I do not become his master, no one later will be able to liberate him.' He immediately commanded the holy assembly to shave Manorhita's hair and confer the precepts upon him in the royal palace. Manorhita was delighted to obtain liberation, and thereupon praised him with a verse:

4.5

To crush millions of elephants, / He patted his belly and worked a wonder; / Among all the palaces and halls, / There was none that did not tremble. / Meeting the master's skillful means, / I have obtained liberation; / Bowing my head, I take leave of my parents, / And step out from the fire of attachment.

4.6

As the Mahāsattva was about to depart for another country, he told the king: 'What I came seeking was merely a vessel of the Dharma. Now that I have liberated this supreme person, I shall depart; the king need not detain me.' Thereupon he departed with Manorhita. Later, he instructed Manorhita, saying: 'The great Dharma-eye of the Tathāgata is now fully entrusted to you. You must transmit and uphold it. Listen to my verse:'

4.7

Bubbles and illusions alike are unobstructed; / Why not awaken and understand? / Penetrating the Dharma within them, / It is neither present nor past.

4.8

Having entrusted the Dharma, the Mahāsattva leaped up from his seat, remaining motionless half a yojana high in the air. The fourfold assembly urgently cried out: 'We wish to revere your relics; may the Venerable Sir not transform into spirits!' Thereupon he collapsed back onto his seat and passed into extinction. After the cremation, the assembly gathered his relics, erected a jeweled stupa, and made offerings to them. This was during the reign of Emperor Xiao'an of the Later Han.

4.9

Biography of the Mahāsattva Manorhita, Twenty-Second Patriarch of India

4.10

The Venerable Manorhita was a native of the kingdom of Nadi and of kṣatriya stock. His father was named Nityasvatantra, the king of that realm. Manorhita was his second son. At his birth there were extraordinary signs. His father did not dare bind him with secular conventions, so he ordered him to take monastic ordination under Master Vasubandhu. After receiving the precepts, he soon received the transmission of the Dharma. When he began his travels converting beings and arrived in Western India, the king there was Gautama-labdha. Revering the Buddha, he constantly held golden lotuses in offering himself, wishing to meet a holy one so as to know the matters of his past and future lives. For seven years he practiced the Path in his palace. One day, there suddenly appeared a Buddhist stūpa one foot and four inches high, emerging from the ground where he practiced the Path. Its color was dark blue, and on its four sides there were images: the front appeared to show King Śibi cutting his thigh to save the pigeon; the back showed King Maitrībala carving his flesh to light lamps; the left showed Prince Mahāsattva throwing himself off a cliff to feed the tigress; the right showed King Candraprabha abandoning his precious head. Labdha was amazed by it. He tried to lift it, but it did not move. His attendants assisted him, and he even ordered a host of strongmen, yet none could lift it. He soon gathered the wise of the realm to deliberate together on plans to move it. At this time, the Great Being was present at the gathering. He deferred to a man of that realm skilled in incantations to go first. The incantation-master performed his ritual and was able to lift the silver mountain that guarded the palace hall of the king. Next he wished to move the stūpa with his techniques. Just as he shouted thrice, before the stūpa had shaken even slightly, his own body was already harmed; he abruptly ran wild, and even the strongmen could not restrain him. The Great Being came forward from the assembly and said to the king, "This is not cause for alarm." He slowly approached the palace veranda and called out to the madman, saying, "Halt!" The man immediately ran toward the Great Being, repenting of his fault. Seeing that the Great Being had stopped his madness, the king then asked, "Venerable One, what dharma enables this to happen?" The Great Being replied, "The Buddha-Dharma." The king said, "I wish to hear of the Buddha-Dharma. May it be studied?" He replied, "As for the Buddha-Dharma, one who is capable of possessing seven things and removing three things may then study it." The king asked, "What are these things?" He said, "First, remove greed; second, remove craving; third, remove delusion. First, possess great compassion; second, possess joyfulness; third, possess non-self; fourth, possess valor; fifth, possess benefiting others; sixth, possess subduing Māra; seventh, possess non-attainment. The reason people attain clarity or lack clarity is entirely due to the presence or absence of these three and seven. If Your Majesty can now remove the three and possess the seven, you will view past and future as if gazing at your palm. How far could it be to accomplish bodhi and ascend to the stage of Buddhahood?" The king praised this as wonderful and insisted on asking to hear the reason for the Buddhist stūpa. The Great Being again deferred to the great assembly. The assembly all said, "Only let the Venerable One speak of it; there is no need to be modest." The Great Being then said, "This stūpa is one of the eighty-four thousand stūpas of seven jewels made in the past by King Aśoka to enshrine the relics of our Śākyamuni Tathāgata; this is one of them." He cited the past tale of Aśoka building the stūpas and so forth, fully as related in the sūtras. He further said to the king, "Originally, wherever each stūpa was placed, the site had to be where a noble sage achieved the Path or entered extinction. In the palace gardens of today, a monk named Pālaka once attained the fruit here in the past; therefore the stūpa has emerged. It is also brought about by Your Majesty's cultivation of virtue." When the king heard these matters, he was deeply awakened. Lamenting that he had heard the Path late in life, he at once ordered the crown prince to take over the realm, and requested to take monastic ordination with the Great Being as his teacher. Seeing that his resolve could not be checked, the Great Being immediately ordained him. Lighting incense, he prayed, "Now the Son of Heaven of Western India has renounced household life following the Buddha. May the host of sages secretly assist him, causing him quickly to arrive at the holy path." In the air there was soon a proclamation, saying, "Having ordained this king, you need not worry. After another seven days, he will attain the fourth fruit." As foretold, at first wind and rain arrived violently; the palace was eerie and silent, and all the people retreated in fear. The king sat upright. When the sun reached noon, he was in a trance as if in a dream, and suddenly saw someone extend an extremely long arm, holding an extraordinary fruit and giving it to him to eat. When he awoke, his mind was exceedingly clear, having already accomplished the path of the arhat. He was about to leave his palace using samādhi, and thereupon said to the Great Being, "When I had not yet realized [the truth], I took pride in this realm; how could I have believed that the Buddha-lands were so vast? Now having attained the Great Vision, looking back at my former domain, how is it different from the minuteness of an anthill? Indeed, even this Jambudvīpa is merely like a dining vessel. Although there are more than three thousand kingdoms, their grades are not equal: so many superior kingdoms, so many middling kingdoms, and so many inferior kingdoms. Yet among the superior kingdoms there are again three grades, and the middling and inferior are likewise so. If one truly cultivates the practice, one is entirely able to be reborn according to one's mind." Thereupon the Great Being took his leave. Gautama-labdha said, "Where will you go next?" Manorhita said, "I will go elsewhere to seek a great vessel of the Dharma." Gautama-labdha said, "The Venerable One's spiritual powers are unfathomable. You may naturally contact him from here; why must you go in person?" The Great Being immediately burned precious incense and said with deep intent, "Haklenayaśas, you are to realize the Path; the time has arrived. Do you know it?" Earlier, the monk Haklenayaśas was dwelling in a forest at Jiubai in the kingdom of the Yuezhi, taking the chanting of the *Large Prajñāpāramitā* as his practice; this moved a flock of cranes to stay close to him. It happened to coincide with the king of that realm, Ratnamudrā, commanding a vegetarian feast in the palace. Just as Haklenayaśas sat down, suddenly fragrant smoke drifted before him. He asked the king, "Do you recognize it?" The king said, "Is it heavenly incense?" Haklenayaśas said, "It is not so. This is a token of faith shown by the Venerable Manorhita of Western India. Now, this Venerable One was a prince of Nadi; formerly, he received a prophecy from Sālendrarāja Buddha and Śākyamuni Tathāgata that in this Fortunate Kalpa he would be the twenty-second patriarchal ancestor of the Dharma, and the people he transforms would be immeasurable. Your Majesty should follow me in facing west and paying homage to him." Then the Great Being touched the ground three times with his hand. The host of arhats asked why he did so. He replied, "Just now Haklenayaśas in the palace of the king of the Yuezhi paid homage; therefore I answered him." He then told the assembly, "I now wish to go there; those among you who have attained spiritual powers should all follow along." Thereupon, with his assembly, he mounted the void and headed toward the Yuezhi kingdom. At that time, Haklenayaśas led his king, each riding a precious elephant and arraying the royal retinue, to go far out and welcome him, and soon returned with the Great Being to the palace. Haklenayaśas first asked him about his disciple Nāgaputra, saying, "This boy's talents and eloquence surpass the world. I have previously used samādhi to observe his past habits, but in the end I could not perceive them. What does the Venerable One think?" The Great Being said, "For how many kalpas were you able to observe with samādhi?" Haklenayaśas said, "I was limited to three lifetimes." Manorhita said, "This boy's merit is not merely from three lifetimes. In the fifth decreasing kalpa he was already born into a brāhmaṇa family in the kingdom of Abhirati. At that time, a Buddhist saṅghārāma in that realm had newly completed a great bell, and this boy once used sandalwood to make a mallet to assist in striking it. The one who made the bell has already attained bodhi, and this one's reward is intelligence." Haklenayaśas revered his explanation and wished to serve him. He asked again, "Although I have moved a flock of cranes to keep close to me, I have never known through what condition this came to be." The Great Being said, "In the fourth kalpa of the past, you were once a monk. Your virtue was already abundant, and you had five hundred disciples. Whenever you were invited to offerings in the nāga palace, because they were not yet able to withstand nāga food, you regularly did not go together with them. Those disciples questioned it, saying, 'When the master expounds the Dharma, he says, "Regarding food it is equal, regarding Dharma it is also equal"; why does he now go alone to eat?' Later when there was an invitation, they insisted on following you. At that time, protected by your virtue, they were without trouble. But when you passed into extinction, they too gradually came to an end. Because of this improper eating, they were all reborn as winged creatures. Yet five kalpas having passed, they are only now transformed to receive these cranes. It is because of the pull of former conditions as master and disciples that you meet again like this." Haklenayaśas was deeply moved and then said, "What dharma should be cultivated to help them return to human form?" The Great Being thereupon told him, "I have an unsurpassed Dharma-treasure; it is the tathāgatagarbha. Formerly the World-Honoured One entrusted it to Mahākāśyapa, and transmitted from one to another, it has reached me. I now entrust it to you. If you can transmit it without interruption, that flock of cranes will also rely on it for liberation. Receive my teaching and listen to the verse:"

4.11

"The mind transforms following myriad conditions;
Where it transforms is truly profound.
Recognize the nature by following the flow:
There is neither joy nor sorrow."

4.12

Haklenayaśas joyfully and respectfully received the transmission of the Dharma. The Great Being then leaped into the great void, manifested the eighteen transformations, returned to his seat, and pointed at the ground, producing a miraculous spring. He again spoke a verse, saying:

4.13

"The pure spring of the mind-ground
Can moisten everything;
Surging forth from the earth,
It universally delivers the worlds of the ten directions."

4.14

Thereafter, he peacefully entered extinction. The fourfold assembly cremated his body, collected the relics, and built a stūpa to make offerings to them. This coincided with the era of Emperor Xiaohuan of the Later Han.

4.15

Biography of the Great Being Haklenayaśas, the Twenty-Third Patriarch of India

4.16

Haklenayaśas was a native of the country of the Yuezhi. His surname was brāhmaṇa. His father was named Qiansheng, and his mother was named Jinguang. At first, because Qiansheng did not have an heir, he went to the True Banner of the Seven Buddhas in his country to pray for one. Upon returning, he said to his wife, “I have prayed for a son at the Banner of the Seven Buddhas.” That night Jinguang had a dream in which a young boy approached Mount Sumeru holding a jade ring in his hand and said to Jinguang, “I have come.” Soon she realized she was pregnant. Another day, an extraordinary monk suddenly came to her dwelling and said to Jinguang, “Protect your pregnancy; be careful not to defile it.” Jinguang said, “I have kept my body pure for ten months already.” She then asked the monk, “If this brings forth a son, will he have blessed virtue?” The monk said, “He will be born a boy. Moreover, in the fourth kalpa he was already able to preach the Dharma for the dragon palace. Therefore the Buddha once prophesied about him, saying that he would become a patriarch of the great Dharma.” When the Great Being was born, flowers rained down from heaven and gold coins emerged from the earth. The people of the country regarded this as an auspicious omen and reported it to their king. The king then took the child and had him nursed in the palace. The palace ladies, numbering hundreds of thousands, vied to nurture him. The child was immediately able to divide his body, becoming an individual son for each of them. The king marvelled at him as divine, yet could not distinguish his real son. He thereupon said, “I have no heir and raised you wishing to make you crown prince. Just now you transformed into many bodies, which bewilders me greatly. If you truly possess spiritual powers, you should transform supernormally again. If not, you will remain a thousand sons forever.” Having spoken these words, the child emitted light and suddenly vanished. Soon he was seen at his parents' house. When he reached the age of seven, he happened upon the people of his country performing excessive sacrifices to the deity Jula. He sighed on their account, saying, “The three realms are base and inferior, and those who attain the true Dharma are few, while perverse demons act at will.” He thereupon went there, and the shrine and its statues immediately collapsed. At the age of twenty, he went forth from the household under an arhat monk and received the precepts on that mountain. At first, his master had him recite the Great Wisdom [Sūtra] exclusively; he did so for thirty years. Later, he lived in the forests of the Yuezhi, and his presence moved flocks of cranes to gather around him; for this reason his present name was bestowed upon him. In his later years he met Manorhita, and in the royal palace he received his transmission of the Dharma; only then did he apply himself to wandering and converting others. When he arrived in Central India, he met the king of that country, named Fearless Ocean (Abhayārṇava), who had earlier dreamed that the moon shone upon his body. A minister interpreted it for him, saying, “Before long a worthy sage will come in response to this dream.” The king immediately informed the four gates. When the Great Being arrived, the gatekeepers reported it. The king quickly went out with ceremonial insignia to welcome him, returned to the palace, and paid homage to him in the main hall. Just after they sat down, two people in crimson and plain white garments suddenly stepped forward and bowed to Haklena. The king was secretly astonished: “Who are these people that they do not salute the host?” The Great Being knew this and said to the king, “These are the Devas of the Sun and Moon; they are not human. Because I have arrived here, they have come to pay their respects.” The king said, “How do you know them?” He replied, “In past kalpas I once preached the Dharma to them, and in consequence they gained rebirth in the palaces of the sun and moon.” Shortly afterward the persons suddenly vanished, leaving only an extraordinary fragrance perfuming the air for a long time. The king then asked, “How many such sun and moon realms are there in all?” The Great Being said, “In this realm of endurance, there are ten billion suns, moons, and kings of mountains. Beneath the Four Heavens, there are approximately four thousand and eight countries, yet their sizes are unequal.” The king asked, “Do these lands exist at the same time, or is there an earlier and a later?” He said, “They come into being and pass away according to the three kalpas of before and after.” The king asked, “Upon what do the three kalpas depend for their existence?” He said, “The three kalpas depend upon the six obscurities for their existence.” The king asked, “What are the six obscurities?” He said, “The two pneumas of above and below, and the four cardinal directions joining together—these are called the six obscurities. Within the six obscurities, the three kalpas alternate with one another. In the beginning there is a lord; that person is called the Field-Lord. After the Field-Lord, the lands are further divided. But those born within the six obscurities also have grades of lifespan: there are those of ten thousand years, those of a thousand years, those of a hundred years, and those who die young and those who do not. Since their retributions are not equal, their bodily forms and species also differ. Even the two bodhisattvas, the Young Scholar and Kāśyapa, cannot fully know them. What I have just briefly spoken is like picking out a single grain from a city full of mustard seeds.” Hearing this, the king felt all the more humble about his own view. The Great Being soon left the royal palace. Previously, the Great Being had a disciple named Longzi (Nāgaputra) who died young. His parents and elder brother, the monk Siṃha, all came to move and inter his remains, but the crowd could not lift them. The brother found it strange and asked the Great Being, “The crowd exerts all its strength to lift it, so why does it not move?” He said, “The fault lies with yourself.” Siṃha said, “What fault? I wish to hear the reason.” He said, “When you first went forth from the household under a brāhmaṇa master and departed, your younger brother longed for you day and night for two years, and so he wished to cultivate merit to support you. He then told your master and sculpted a Buddha statue, but after a long time the craftsmanship remained undecorated. You disliked it, so you threw it to the ground and remade it. If you now simply go and retrieve that discarded statue, this corpse will surely be lifted.” Siṃha did as he said and returned; his brother’s corpse indeed could be lifted. When the brāhmaṇa master died, Siṃha, finding the Great Being’s words verified, again sought him out as his master. He initially asked, “I wish to seek the Way; how should I apply my mind?” The Great Being said, “If you seek the Way, there is nowhere to apply your mind.” He said, “Since there is nowhere to apply one's mind, how does one perform the Buddha-work?” He said, “If you have something applied, it is not merit. If you have non-action, that is the Buddha-work. Thus the sūtra says: ‘The merit that I have performed is without my performing it.’” Upon hearing the Dharma, Siṃha immediately understood and stepped forward to join the ranks of disciples. At that time, one of his disciples followed up by asking, “The Master has practiced without self-possession and has obtained this knowledge of past lives. He must certainly know whether our assembly has blessed karma or not. We wish to hear you speak of it.” The Great Being then pointed to the northeast and said to them, “Do you see this?” The assembly said, “We do not see it.” He said, “You cannot even see these coarse forms, so how could you see subtle merit?” Siṃha stepped forward and said, “I have just seen it.” The Great Being said, “What do you see?” He said, “I see an extraordinary vapor, bright like a white rainbow piercing heaven and earth. Moreover, there is a black vapor spread across five paths, in front of which is something resembling the ladder to the Trāyastriṃśa heaven.” The Great Being said, “You see this vapor; do you know what it portends?” He said, “What it portends I do not yet know; I only ask the Master to explain it.” The Great Being said, “Fifty years after my extinction, a calamity will arise in North India. You should know this.” Siṃha then said, “I am about to travel abroad, and I venture to request your instruction, O Venerable One.” The Great Being said, “I am now old, and nirvāṇa is at hand. I entrust all of this great Dharma-eye treasury of the Tathāgata to you. You must go to another country, but that country will face calamity, and the burden will fall upon your person. Be careful to transmit it early, so that it is not cut off. Listen to my verse:”

4.17

“When you recognize the mind-nature,
You may speak of the inconceivable.
Clearly there is nothing to be attained;
When attained, one does not speak of knowing.”

4.18

Having entrusted the Dharma, the Great Being leapt into the great void and performed the eighteen transformations. Returning to his seat, he peacefully passed away. After the fourfold assembly cremated him, they were about to divide his relics, intending to enshrine them in individual stūpas. The Great Being reappeared and spoke a verse, saying:

4.19

“The one Dharma is all Dharmas;
The one Dharma encompasses all.
My body is neither existent nor non-existent;
Why divide it into all these stūpas?”

4.20

The assembly then united them into a single pure stūpa and made offerings to it. This was during the time of Emperor Xiaoxian of the Later Han.

4.21

Biography of the Twenty-Fourth Patriarch of India, the Venerable Siṃha

4.22

The Venerable Simha was a man of Central India, surnamed Brāhmaṇa. He was innately intelligent and possessed of transcendent wisdom and eloquence. In his youth, he went forth under a Brāhmaṇa monk to study meditation. Later he took Haklenayaśas as his master and soon received the transmission of the Dharma. He traveled to convert beings in the kingdom of Jibin. Earlier, that country had a śramaṇa named Vālikā, who devoted himself to practicing Hīnayāna meditation contemplation. After Vālikā, his disciples who upheld his teaching subsequently split into five schools: one called Dhyāna Concentration, one called Knowledge and Vision, one called Grasping Marks, one called Renouncing Marks, and one called Observing Silence. They vied to surpass one another in their capabilities. The Venerable went to correct all of them. First, he said to the one observing silence: "The Buddha's teaching diligently expounds prajñā. Who would practice silence, thereby contradicting the Buddha's teachings?" Next, he said to the one renouncing marks: "The Buddha's teachings are complete in deportment and pure in brahma practice; how could one renounce marks?" Next, he said to the one grasping marks: "The Buddha realm is pure, sovereign, and without attachment; why grasp marks?" Next, he said to the one of knowledge and vision: "The knowledge and vision of all Buddhas has nothing to be attained. Therefore, this Dharma is subtle and wondrous, beyond awakening and hearing, unconditioned and devoid of marks; why knowledge and vision?" Thereupon the assemblies of the four [schools] all submitted to his teaching. The head of the fifth assembly of meditation contemplation was named Dharmadata. Regarded as a knowledgeable master, the multitudes all revered him. Indignant and resentful at the submission of the previous four assemblies, he thereupon informed the Venerable that he wished to interrogate him with difficult questions. When he first arrived, the Venerable asked him: "You, benevolent one, practice concentration. Why come here? If you come here, how can you be practicing concentration?" He replied: "When I come to this place, my mind is also not disordered. Concentration follows the person's practice; how could it depend on place?" [The Venerable] further asked: "When you, benevolent one, come, your practice also arrives. Since there is no place, how could it depend on a person's practice?" He replied: "Because concentration practices the person, it is not that the person practices concentration. Though I come and go, that concentration is constantly practiced." [The Venerable] further asked: "Since the person does not practice concentration and it is concentration that practices the person, when one comes and goes of oneself, who practices that concentration?" He replied: "Like a clear and bright jewel, without flaw inside or out: when concentration is thoroughly mastered, it should indeed be like this." [The Venerable] further asked: "If concentration is thoroughly mastered, it must indeed resemble a bright jewel. Now seeing you, benevolent one, you are not of the kind of a jewel." He replied: "That jewel is luminous and clear, and both inside and outside are entirely tranquil. My mind is not disordered, just like this jewel." [The Venerable] further asked: "That jewel has no inside or outside. How can you, benevolent one, determine impurities? If things are not unsteady, this concentration is not purity." Dharmadata's reasoning was exhausted, and he then bowed to him, saying: "My study of the Way has merely been in vain! Had I not heard these words, I would almost have never understood the ultimate. May the Venerable allow me to take you as my master!" The Venerable firmly declined, but Dharmadata's entreaties did not cease. So [the Venerable] told him: "The dhyāna concentration of all Buddhas has nothing to be attained. The awakened Way of all Buddhas has nothing to be realized. Devoid of attainment and realization—this is true liberation. Recompensing causes and responding to effects are the karmic retributions of the mundane world; yet within this Dharma, none are like that. If you practice concentration, it should indeed be thus." Dharmadata joyfully accepted his instruction. Before long, there was a son of an elder in that country named Śāntā, who was only twenty years old. His left hand always seemed to clasp something and had never opened. One night, his father dreamed that a divine being told him to send him to Simha to be cured. The following day, the father took his son to the Venerable to test his dream. Yet he first calculated in his mind: "If this boy's malady is truly cured, I shall freely allow him to leave household life." The Venerable had just been lamenting that he had been in this country for a long time yet had not found anyone to whom he could transmit his Dharma. One morning, the elder and his son arrived together, informed the Venerable of the hand and the dream, bowed, and wished that the son immediately be accepted into the monastic order. The Venerable then said to the assembly: "Do you know what this boy grasps in his hand?" None in the assembly could guess. He spoke again: "What he holds is just a precious jewel. In a past life, I was once a monk in a certain realm, whose vocation was chanting the Dragon King Sūtra. At that time, this boy had already left the household life under me, named Bashe. One day, it happened that the dragon palace invited me to an offering and presented a jewel as a donation. At that time, this boy accompanied me, and so I entrusted it to his palm. When my life ended there and I was born here, the karmic conditions between master and disciple were not severed; thus, there is this present meeting." He then instructed Śāntā to open his hand, and the jewel was indeed radiant in his palm. Thereupon the Venerable tonsured him, convened the sangha of nobles, and administered the full ordination. He said to him: "In your previous life when you went forth, you were already named Bashe, and now it is so again. It is fitting to combine them: your name shall be Bashe-sīta (Vāśasīta). I have just observed that this country is about to bring calamity upon me. Yet I am old and frail; how could I seek an improper escape? The Great Dharma Eye of the Tathāgata that I have inherited, I now entrust to you. You should uphold it and depart at once to dedicate yourself to propagating and converting. If you encounter those who doubt you, take my saṃghāṭī robe as a token of verification. Listen to my verse:

4.23

"At the very moment when knowledge and vision are expounded, / Knowledge and vision are both the mind. / Right at the mind is knowledge and vision; / Knowledge and vision are just right now."

4.24

Vāśasīta received the command and departed on that very day. Not long after, there were indeed two brothers in that country: the elder was named Momutuola and the younger was named Duluozhe. Together they hid in the mountains to learn non-Buddhist arts. One day, Duluozhe's study was completed first, and he said to his elder brother: "I will secretly enter the royal palace, perform sorcery to kill the king, and usurp his realm." The elder brother said: "Do not botch the affair and bring calamity upon our clan!" When Luozhe entered the palace, he disguised his followers all in the form of monks, calculating that if their affair succeeded, they would reveal themselves, and if not, they would lay the blame on the śramaṇas. Having performed his sorcery without effect, he was captured by the state. The soldiers indeed reported them as śramaṇas. The king was greatly enraged, saying: "I have always revered the Buddha. How could these people commit such high treason?" He thereupon rejected the teaching and executed all the śramaṇas. The Venerable then told his assembly: "The king is not favorable to us now. You should flee far away." His disciples wanted to take the Venerable into hiding, but the Venerable said: "I see that the aggregates are empty; where else should I flee?" The king, Mihirakula, indeed brandished his sword and resolutely came to the Venerable, asking: "Has the master attained the Dharma of marklessness?" He replied: "I have attained it." The king said: "Having attained it, do you fear life and death?" He answered: "Having already transcended life and death, what fear could there be?" The king said: "If you have no fear, can you give me your head?" He said: "The body is not mine; how much less the head!" The king immediately beheaded him. When the Venerable's head fell, white milk gushed forth to a height of over ten feet. Thereupon the king's right arm was severed on its own. Soon after, he fell ill and died within seven days. When the king was ill, his crown prince, named Guangshou, was grieved and broadly recruited occult practitioners, intending to make repentance and apologies on his father's behalf. Suddenly an immortal arrived from Mount Xiangbai and said to Guangshou: "This was a past karmic adversary; you need not grieve." The crown prince went forward and said: "I wish to hear of the past matter." The immortal said: "Several lifetimes ago, your father was once born in this country as a layman. Yet he was virtuous, good, and deeply fond of the Buddha's Way. One day, he gathered a multitude to hold an unrestricted feast. At that time, Simha's previous incarnation was also a layman and came to join that gathering. At that time, Simha was intelligent, eloquent, and erudite; whenever he debated with others, he had never yielded. On that day, he posed questions based on the Buddha's Dharma to your father as a layman. Although your father as a layman responded reasonably, Simha as a layman wished in his heart to prevail over him and repeatedly posed arbitrary objections. The debate grew heated, and his reasoning was ultimately refuted. Because of this, he harbored resentment and soon secretly sent someone with poison to kill your father as a layman. Although this happened many lifetimes ago, the unseen reckoning had not yet arrived, so the incident did not take place. Now that their karmic conditions have met, your father the king thus brutally killed Simha." The crown prince's grief was somewhat alleviated. Later, they built a stūpa for the remains of the monk Simha. His martyrdom occurred during the reign of Cao Fang, King of Qi and the Deposed Emperor of the former Wei.

4.25

The appraisal says: By what can the advance entrustment of the Dharma be verified? I say: It is verified by the sages. Only sages are capable of occult knowledge. Now, Simha's virtue was capable of making him a patriarch, and in his own words, he had already attained the emptiness of the aggregates. His attainment as a sage was indeed supreme; how could he lack occult knowledge? Moreover, Haklenayaśas had once spoken to him of the difficulty and urged him to transmit the Way; how could he not have entrusted the Dharma in advance? Other records (namely, the Fu fazang zhuan) were able to know that white milk gushed forth upon his execution, yet went on to say that the lineage of Dharma transmission ended here. Why did they write so recklessly without reflecting? (Their falsehood is verified by the Dhyāna Sūtra.)

4.26

Biography of the Twenty-Fifth Indian Patriarch, the Venerable Vāśasīta

4.27

Basiasita was a native of the country of Jibin. He belonged to the brāhmaṇa clan and was also known as Bharadvāja and Bhāratana. His father was named Jixing, and his mother was named Chang'anle. Earlier, Chang'anle dreamed that someone gave her a precious sword, whereupon she conceived the Venerable One. Thereafter, an extraordinary fragrance filled her chambers, and flowers rained repeatedly from heaven upon her home. When he was born, his left hand was clenched as if holding something. When he reached the age of eleven, an extraordinary monk came to their dwelling and said to Jixing, “When this boy reaches the age of twenty, he will obtain the great treasure of the Dharma, and what his hand clenches will also become apparent.” Having spoken, the monk suddenly vanished. When the Venerable One reached adulthood, his father Jixing brought him to the Venerable Siṃha to discern their past affinities. Thereupon, he freely left home under Siṃha and was given his present name. After he became a śramaṇa, Siṃha was aging and their karmic connections from past lives were intimately bound, so Siṃha entrusted the Dharma to him and urged him with urgent insistence to leave the country. The Venerable One obeyed his command and left that very day. He first arrived in the realm of Central Tianzhu, whose king, named Kāśyapa, came out to meet and pay homage to him. Prior to this, there had been a non-Buddhist in that country known as Anātman, who, relying on his occult arts, frequently disparaged the Buddha's teaching. The king had always been indignant about this. At this point, he ordered the Venerable One to subdue him. When they met, the non-Buddhist demanded a silent debate, wishing not to use words. The Venerable One rebuked him, saying, “If we do not use words, how can victory or defeat be determined?” The non-Buddhist replied, “We do not contest victory or defeat, but only grasp the meaning.” The Venerable One said, “What is called meaning?” The non-Buddhist said, “No-mind is the meaning.” The Venerable One said, “Since you have no mind, whence do you obtain meaning?” The non-Buddhist said, “I say that no-mind should be named non-meaning.” The Venerable One said, “You say that non-mind should be named having no meaning; I say that non-mind constantly has meaning and is not a name.” The non-Buddhist again said, “When it is meaning and not a name, who can discern the meaning?” The Venerable One said, “You consider name to be non-meaning; what name is this name?” The non-Buddhist said, “In order to discern non-meaning, it is a non-name name.” The Venerable One said, “Since the name is not a name, meaning is also not meaning. Who is the one who debates, and what thing should be debated?” In this way, after more than fifty exchanges, the non-Buddhist was at a loss for words and finally yielded. At that moment, an extraordinary, overpowering fragrance suddenly filled the royal palace. The Venerable One, filled with solemn reverence, said, “This is my master passing away; his token has just arrived.” He then faced north and bowed. Soon afterward, he said to the king, “When I first left my master, I planned to go to the land of Southern India. Remaining here for so long now, how could this have been my master’s intention?” He hurriedly bid farewell to the king and prepared to depart. The king said, “Venerable One, please stay a little longer and allow me a request. There is currently a spring in my royal garden so boiling hot that it cannot be tested [by hand]. The rocks on its shore emit light at night. Although I find it most strange, I have never understood why it is so. I pray that you will resolve this for me.” The Venerable One said, “This is a hot spring, brought about by three causes: the first is divine karma, the second is ghostly karma, and the third is heated stones. As for heated stones, their color is like gold and their nature is perpetually flaming; therefore, the spring that emerges is like boiling water. As for ghostly karma, it refers to ghosts who have just emerged from places of retribution and roam among humans; through the force of their residual karma, they boil and scorch this spring to repay their past debts. As for divine karma, it refers to gods who do not uphold their proper path, arbitrarily producing misfortune and fortune to extract sacrifices. When their evil karma is brimming, the punishments of the unseen realm conscript them, also making them boil and scorch this spring to pay for excessive sacrificial offerings.” The king said, “I hope the Venerable One will examine which of these three causes actually brought this about.” The Venerable One said, “This is brought about by divine karma.” He immediately ordered incense to be burned and, approaching the spring, performed repentance on its behalf. Shortly after, a tall figure appeared at the water's edge, stepped forward to pay homage to the Venerable One, and said, “Having a small measure of blessing, I was able to encounter the Venerable One, and now I will be reborn among humans. I have only come to bid you farewell.” He then vanished. Seven days later, the water was indeed clear, cool, and like an ordinary spring. At that time, the people of Central India, seeing the efficacy of his words, called him Bhāratana. When Northern Tianzhu heard of it, they again called him Bharadvāja. However, what the two countries called him was akin to calling him here “the one with the spring of distinctive karma.” The Venerable One ultimately took his leave and went to Southern Tianzhu. The king personally deployed the royal guard to see him off. When he arrived in Southern India, its king, named Tiande, also came out to meet and pay homage to him. Earlier, the king had a son who served the Buddha quite strictly according to the Dharma, making merit for himself. Yet he had been ill for years. The king therefore questioned the Venerable One, saying, “My son serves the Buddha and performs wholesome deeds, yet he has contracted a prolonged illness. How does the retribution of good and evil operate?” The Venerable One said to the king, “The prince’s illness is in truth produced by his merit. Yet this principle is profound and far-reaching; may the king listen carefully. The Buddha said that when a person has heavy karma upon them, it is like an internal illness that has penetrated deep, which medicine cannot combat; when they are about to die, the disease becomes increasingly severe. When an illness is shallow, upon meeting medicine it is immediately stirred; only after it is stirred can there be improvement. Heavy karma is likewise: though there is merit, nothing can be done about it; when death arrives, the karmic retribution becomes all the more manifest. When karma is light, aided by merit, its retribution manifests at once, and thereafter one is purified. Now your majesty’s son, practicing virtue, has suffered a long illness; it must be that the merit he has performed has activated this slight karma. Though there is slight suffering at the moment, he will later be in permanent peace. Does not the sūtra say: ‘If one should suffer karmic retribution in the three evil destinies, may I repay it in this present body and not enter the evil destinies to receive it’? Why should the king doubt?” The king believed his words and further cultivated merit, and the illness was indeed cured. However, in that country there had formerly been an incantation master named Lingtong, who was trusted and respected by the king. By this time he was jealous of Sīta and plotted to poison him, but the poison could not harm him. He challenged him again with occult arts, yet his arts were even less successful, and because of this he harbored deep resentment. At that time, the Venerable One had left the king’s palace to teach in other regions for sixteen years. It happened that King Tiande passed away, and the succeeding king, Desheng, ascended the throne; he was especially fond of the teachings of incantation masters. The incantation master therefore slandered him, saying to the king, “Basiasita is not a disciple of Siṃha; how could he have the Way? I request that Your Majesty test him.” The king complied with his words. At that time, the crown prince, named Puṇyamitra, knowing that they were plotting evil against the Venerable One, remonstrated, saying, “Basiasita was revered by the ancestral king. The previous incantation master could not harm him and soon died of himself. His Way is consummate; the state must not test him.” The king was angry, thought that the crown prince was siding with Sīta, and thereupon imprisoned him. One day, he indeed summoned the Venerable One, took his seat in the main hall, and questioned him, saying, “Our country does not tolerate heterodox teachings. What school is it that the master studies?” Sīta replied, “What I study is the orthodox lineage of the Buddha’s Dharma.” The king said, “Over a thousand years have passed since the Buddha's parinirvāṇa; whence did you obtain it?” The Venerable One said, “Since Śākyamuni Tathāgata transmitted the Dharma, it has passed through twenty-four generations down to my master Siṃha. What I just obtained was indeed received from the monk Siṃha.” The king said, “Siṃha was executed; how could he have transmitted the Dharma to you? If it is truly so, what do you have as proof?” The Venerable One said, “The saṅghāṭī robe transmitting the Dharma that my master bestowed upon me is here.” He then presented it to the king. The king at first did not believe it and ordered it burned to test it. Just as the fire was blazing, an extraordinary light suddenly issued from the robe, eclipsing the worldly fire. Auspicious clouds covered it, and heavenly fragrances were luxuriant. When the fire burned out to ashes, the saṅghāṭī robe was as before. The king was filled with great faith and paid full homage to the Venerable One. The king then requested the saṅghāṭī robe for himself and issued an edict releasing his crown prince. Earlier, when Puṇyamitra was imprisoned, his attendants could not bring meals in a timely manner. Parched with thirst and hunger, he feared death was imminent. Suddenly, a stream of white milk came from the sky and poured into his mouth, tasting like sweet dew; his body and spirit were instantly at peace. Moved by this, he thought secretly to himself, “If I escape this, I shall seek to leave home.” Shortly after, the pardon arrived. The prince, having seen the king and expressed his thanks, pleaded illness, asked to resign his position as heir apparent, and begged to leave home. The king, discerning that his resolution could not be swayed, granted it. The crown prince immediately went to the Venerable One and paid the homage of a disciple. The Venerable One said, “Did your royal father give permission?” He replied, “Yes.” He further said, “Wishing to leave home, what purpose will you serve?” He replied, “I will do the Buddha's work.” The Venerable One, seeing his utmost sincerity, soon ordained him. At that moment, the earth shook and the moon appeared by day; the entire country was alarmed. The king feared it was an inauspicious omen. The Venerable One informed him, saying, “This is not inauspicious; do not worry.” The king said, “I have heard that the moon appearing by day and the sun appearing by night are inversions of yin and yang. How could this be auspicious?” The Venerable One said, “Seeing the moon by day signifies encountering a sage. Seeing the sun at night signifies that great darkness will be fully illuminated.” The king’s anxiety was immediately dispelled. He then said to the Venerable One, “I also have long harbored five doubts. Now, encountering the Venerable One’s sagely wisdom, I venture to ask about them. First, previously I saw the earth shake, sometimes near and sometimes far; what causes this? Today it happened again: are they the same or different? Second, for what reason do the sun, moon, and asterisms appear and disappear without fixed times? Third, when the earth produces extraordinary things, to whom are they an omen? When clouds, rainbows, and fine vapors arise from the earth, who inspires them? Fourth, gazing toward the eastern and western horizons, the sunset clouds shift unpredictably, suddenly bright and suddenly dark; and fifth, what makes the color of the sky deep azure? Venerable One, do not speak only of the Buddha’s Dharma without discussing worldly truth; I pray you will resolve these for me.” The Venerable One said, “The three thousand great thousand worlds with their billions of suns and moons are all within the Buddha’s realm; what among them cannot be discussed? How could there be a distinction between whether the Buddha’s Dharma and worldly truth are to be spoken of or not? Do not make such statements, O King. However, your majesty’s doubts all have their reasons. Listen well, my lord! When a Buddha appears in the world, the earth quakes four times, the moon appears by day, and the sun appears by night. When a Buddha attains the Way, the earth quakes five times, and the sun and moon grow in brightness. When a Buddha enters nirvāṇa, the earth quakes six times, and the sun and moon both darken. When a bodhisattva appears, the earth quakes three times, and the moon appears by day. When a bodhisattva attains the Way, the earth quakes four times, and the sun appears by night. When a bodhisattva passes into extinction, the earth quakes five times, and the bright stars of the heavens all dim. When an arhat appears, the earth quakes once, and stars appear by day. When an arhat realizes the fruit, the earth quakes three times, and the night stars all shine bright. When an arhat enters extinction, the earth quakes four times, and the night stars all darken. When a monk has studied the Buddha's Way without regressing for two lifetimes, upon his appearance in the world the earth quakes once. If this monk is about to realize the holy fruit, the earth quakes twice. When this monk passes away, the earth quakes three times. When a monk has studied the bodhisattva’s path without regressing for three lifetimes, upon his appearance in the world the earth undergoes a half-quake. When this practicing monk is about to realize the holy fruit, the earth quakes once. When this practicing monk is about to enter extinction, the earth quakes twice. When a monk has studied the arhat’s path without regressing for four lifetimes, upon his appearance in the world the stars all shine bright. When this practicing monk is about to realize the holy fruit, the earth undergoes a half-quake. When this practicing monk is about to enter extinction, the earth quakes once. When someone in the world practices utmost filial piety, the earth undergoes a half-quake. When someone in the world commits the five heinous crimes, the earth also undergoes a half-quake. These eight kinds of merit have magnitude and the karma has good and evil; according to what they inspire, the quaking of the earth is near or far. The concealment and appearance of the sun and moon, and the shifting colors of the eastern and western clouds, are because the eastern and western faces of Mount Sumeru are shadowed or exposed according to the sun; thus the colors of the various jewels brighten and darken diversely. The deep azure color of the sky is because the southern face of Mount Sumeru is made of vaiḍūrya; when it shines in clear weather, it produces this color. Now, the portents of heaven, earth, and humanity each have three grades: superior, medium, and inferior, and their manifestations differ.” The king said, “What are the three grades?” The Venerable One said, “Inspiring the sun is the highest-superior portent; inspiring the moon is the middle-superior portent; inspiring the stars is the lowest-superior portent. Inspiring the highest-superior portent can only be done by the Buddha, the Great Sage. Inspiring the middle-superior portent can only be done by bodhisattvas, the next sages. Inspiring the lowest-superior portent can only be done by arhats, the next-again sages. The vapors and rainbows that rise from the earth also have three grades: superior, medium, and inferior. The vapor of a rainbow is the highest-superior portent; only when a ruler possesses the Way can he inspire it. Five-colored auspicious clouds are the middle-superior portent; only when a minister possesses virtue can he inspire it. Variegated clouds like a canopy are the lowest-superior portent; only when the people have goodness can they inspire it. Auspicious omens among birds and beasts also have nine grades. When creatures rarely seen in the world suddenly appear, their form neither male nor female, their color like jade, of the class of the qilin or dragon, this is the highest-superior portent. When a creature whose color is originally not white suddenly becomes like snow, of the class of the turtle or lion, this is the middle-superior portent. When a creature that originally had no horns suddenly grows horns, and their color is like gold, this is the lowest-superior portent. When a creature that originally had no wings suddenly grows wings, and their color is like silver, this is the highest-medium portent. When a creature that originally had no scales suddenly grows scales, and their color is bright white, this is the middle-medium portent (a certain text of the ancient edition is missing the lowest-medium portent here). When a creature whose original color was not purple suddenly turns purple, this is the highest-inferior portent. When a creature’s color is neither blue-green nor yellow, and it is neither male nor female, this is the middle-inferior portent. When a creature whose original color was not black suddenly becomes dark-robed, without distinction of male or female, this is the lowest-inferior portent. Auspicious omens among herbs and trees also have nine grades. When herbs and trees, by original nature sturdy and upright, become increasingly extraordinary, and their original color was not white but suddenly turns bright, this is the highest-superior portent. When herbs and trees are somewhat sturdy and upright in nature, and their original color was not purple but suddenly turns purple, this is the middle-superior portent. When herbs and trees are originally not outstanding but suddenly become flourishing, this is the lowest-superior portent. When herbs and trees flower without fruiting, yet suddenly bear fruit, this is the highest-medium portent. When herbs and trees grow joined from different roots, this is the middle-medium portent. When herbs and trees suddenly transform and produce extraordinary flowers, this is the lowest-medium portent. When herbs and trees suddenly produce the likeness of a human form, this is the highest-inferior portent. When herbs and trees suddenly emit light, this is the middle-inferior portent. When herbs and trees suddenly produce the likeness of flying or walking creatures, this is the lowest-inferior portent. Within the realm transformed by the Buddha Śākyamuni, such auspicious omens are boundless and almost impossible to record; yet all emerge in response to the greater or lesser strength of worldly merit.” Having heard this extraordinary discourse, the king stepped forward and paid further homage. The Venerable One said to the king, “The crown prince left home, and what he inspired was such as this; he is truly a great being. It is fitting that he succeed me and foster the Dharma treasure.” Puṇyamitra soon also realized the fruit [of arhatship]. Thereupon, the Venerable One returned with Mitra to his former place of teaching. Later, he instructed him, saying, “I am very old and will not long remain before departing this world. The great Dharma-eye treasury of the Tathāgata of old, I now entrust to you. Listen to my verse:”

First 27 of 32 passages. Read on

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傳法正宗記 — Classical Chinese