廣弘明集 23.15

23.15

夫道不自弘。弘必由人。俗不自覺。覺必待匠。待匠故世有高悟之期。由人故道有小成之運。運在小成則靈津輟流。期在高悟則玄鋒可詣。然能仁曠世期將千載時師邪心是非競起。故使靈規潛逝徽緒殆亂。爰有什法師者。蓋先覺之遺嗣也。凝思大方馳懷高觀。審釋道之陵遲。悼蒼生之窮藹。故乃奮迅神儀。㝢形季俗。統承洪緒。為時城塹。世之安寢則覺以大音。時將晝昏乃朗以慧日。思結頹綱於道消。緝落緒於窮運。故乘時以會錯枉以正。一扣則時無互鄉。再擊則𡾝𡻱歸仁。于斯時也。羊鹿之駕摧輪。六師之車覆轍。二想之玄既明。一乘之奧亦顯。是以端坐嶺東響馳八極。恬愉弘訓而九流思順。故大秦符姚二天王師旅以延之。斯二王也。心遊大覺之門。形鎮萬化之上。外揚羲和之風。內盛弘法之術。道契神交屈為形授。公以宗匠不重則其道不尊。故蘊懷神寶感而後動。自公形應秦川。若燭龍之曜神光。恢廓大宗若羲和之出扶桑。融冶常道盡重玄之妙。閑邪悟俗窮名教之美。言既適時理有圓會。故辯不徒興。道不虛唱。斯乃法鼓重振於閻浮。梵輪再轉於天北矣。自非位超修成體精百鍊行藏應時。其孰契於茲乎。以要言之。其為弘也隆於春陽。其除患也厲於秋霜。故巍巍乎蕩蕩乎。無邊之高韻。然隘運幽興。若人云暮。癸丑之年。年七十。四月十三日薨于大寺。嗚呼哀哉。道匠西傾。靈軸東摧。朝羲落曜。寶岳崩頹。六合晝昏。迷駕九迴。神關重閉。三塗競開。夜光可惜。盲子可哀。罔極之感。人百其懷。乃為誄曰。先覺登遐。靈風緬邈。通仙潛凝。應真冲漠。叢叢九流。是非競作。悠悠盲子。神根沈溺。時無指南。誰識冥度。大人遠覺。幽懷獨悟。恬冲靜默。抱此玄素。應期乘運。翔翼天路。既曰應運。宜當時望。受生乘利。形標奇相。繈褓俊遠。髫齓逸量。思不再經。悟不待匠。投足八道。遊神三向。玄根挺秀宏音遠唱。又以抗節。忽棄榮俗。從容道門。尊尚素朴。有典斯尋。有妙斯錄。弘無自替。宗無擬族。霜結如氷。神安如嶽。外疏彌高。內朗彌足。恢恢高韻。可模可因。愔愔冲德。惟妙惟真。靜以通玄。動以應人。言為世寶。默為時珍。華風既立。二教亦賓。誰謂道消。玄化方新。自公之覺。道無不弘。靈風遐扇。逸響高騰。廓茲大方。然斯惠燈。道音始唱。俗網以崩。癡根彌拔。上善彌增。人之寓俗。其途無方。統斯群有。紐茲頹綱。順以四恩。降以慧霜。如彼維摩。跡參城坊。形雖圓應。神冲帝鄉。來教雖妙。何足以臧。偉哉大人。振隆圓德。標此名相。顯彼冲默。通以眾妙。約以玄則。方隆般若。以應天北。如何運邅。幽里冥剋。天路誰通。三塗誰塞。嗚呼哀哉。至人無為。而無不為。權網遐籠。長羅遠羈。純恩下釣。客旅上摛。恂恂善誘。肅肅風馳。道能易俗。化能移時。奈何昊天。摧此靈規。至真既往。一道莫施。天人哀泣。悲慟靈祇。嗚呼哀哉。公之云亡。時唯百六。道匠韜斤。梵輪摧軸。朝陽頹景。瓊岳顛覆。宇宙晝昏。時喪道目。哀哀蒼生。誰撫誰育。普天悲感。我增摧衂。嗚呼哀哉。昔吾一時。曾遊仁川。遵其餘波。纂承虛玄。用之無窮。鑽之彌堅。曜日絕塵。思加數年。微情末敘。已隨化遷。如可贖兮。貿之以千。時無可待。命無可延。惟身惟人。靡憑靡緣。馳懷罔極。情悲昊天。嗚呼哀哉。

Now, the Way does not broaden itself; its broadening depends on the person. The worldly do not awaken of themselves; their awakening awaits a master craftsman. Awaiting a master craftsman, the world therefore has epochs of lofty realization. Depending on the person, the Way therefore has times of modest accomplishment. When the times lie in modest accomplishment, the spiritual ford ceases to flow; when the epoch lies in lofty realization, the profound vanguard can be reached. Yet the Benevolent One has long departed this world, nearly a thousand years ago; contemporary masters harbor perverse minds, and disputes over right and wrong arise in contention. Thus the spiritual model has secretly vanished, and the illustrious thread is all but disrupted.
There was Dharma Master Kumārajīva, who was indeed an heir left by the earlier awakened. He concentrated his thought on the great method and let his mind gallop in lofty contemplation. Discerning the decline of the Śākya Way, he grieved over the destitution and blindness of the multitude. Therefore, he roused his spiritual bearing and lodged his form in this degenerated age. Unifying and continuing the vast succession, he became a rampart for the times. When the world was fast asleep, he awakened it with the Great Sound; when the times were turning to twilight, he illuminated them with the Sun of Wisdom. He contemplated tying up the collapsing guidelines amid the decline of the Way, and gathering the fallen threads in an era of destitution. Therefore he mounted the times to adapt, straightening the crooked; with one strike, the times knew no unteachable village, and with a second stroke, the obstinate returned to benevolence.
At that time, the carts of the goat and deer broke their wheels, and the carriages of the six teachers overturned their ruts. Once the profundity of the two conceptions was clarified, the secrets of the One Vehicle were also revealed. Thus he sat upright east of the mountains, while his fame galloped to the eight extremities. In tranquil delight he propagated instructions, and the nine streams of thought yearned to conform. Therefore Fu and Yao, the two Heavenly Kings of the Great Qin, dispatched armies to invite him. These two kings: their minds wandered through the gates of Great Awakening, and their forms held sway over the myriad transformations; externally they spread the customs of Xi and He, and internally they promoted the methods of propagating the Dharma. Their ways in accord and their spirits attuned, they condescended to receive instructions in person.
The master considered that if the great craftsman is not respected, then his Way is not revered; hence he treasured the spiritual gem within his breast, stirring only when stimulated. From the time the master’s form manifested in the plains of Qin, it was as if the Torch Dragon radiated spiritual light; he expanded the great lineage, as if Xihe emerged from Fusang. Melting and refining the constant Way, he exhausted the wonders of the double profundity; warding off the perverse and awakening the worldly, he brought to fruition the beauty of the orthodox teachings. His words being suited to the times, the principle was completely harmonious. Therefore his eloquence did not arise in vain, and the Way was not proclaimed without effect. This was indeed the Dharma drum sounded anew in Jambudvīpa, the Wheel of Brahmā turned once more to the north of heaven. Had he not been one whose station surpassed cultivated attainment, whose substance was refined through a hundred smeltings, and whose action and retirement accorded with the times, who could have matched this?
In summary, his propagation was more luxuriant than spring sunlight; his eradication of suffering was fiercer than autumn frost. How towering! How vast! Lofty resonance without bounds! Yet an obstructed destiny secretly arose, and this man saw his twilight. In the guichou year, at the age of seventy, on the thirteenth day of the fourth month, he passed away in the Great Monastery. Alas! How mournful!
The master craftsman of the Way has tilted toward the west; / The spiritual axle has broken in the east. / The morning sun has cast down its rays; / The jewel mountain has crumbled and collapsed. / The six directions are dark at midday; / The lost carriage wanders in nine circles. / The spiritual gate is shut again; / The three bad paths open in contention. / How regrettable is the night-shining pearl! / How pitiable are the blind children! / The feeling of boundless grief / Is magnified a hundredfold in every heart.
Thereupon I compose this eulogy:
The Earlier Awakened ascended to the heights; / The spiritual breeze is distant and remote. / The master of pervasive transcendence quietly coalesced; / The Arhat entered the tranquil void. / The tangled clusters of the nine streams / Contend in asserting right and wrong. / The wandering blind children / Have their spiritual roots submerged. / When the times have no south-pointing needle, / Who recognizes the passage across the darkness? / The Great Man attained distant awakening; / In his secret mind he realized alone. / Tranquil, empty, still, and silent, / He embraced this profound plainness. / Responding to the period, mounting the times, / He soared with wings along the heavenly road. / Having been said to respond to the times, / He was fittingly the hope of the age. / Taking birth, he rode upon sharpness; / His form bore extraordinary marks. / In swaddling clothes he was talented and far-reaching; / In his childhood he had boundless capacity. / In thought he needed no second reading of the classics; / In awakening he did not await a master craftsman. / Setting his feet on the Eightfold Path, / He roamed his spirit through the three directions. / His profound roots stood out remarkably; / His magnificent voice echoed far and wide. / Furthermore, maintaining his integrity, / He cast away honor and the worldly. / At ease within the Dharma gate, / He revered and valued plain simplicity. / Whatever canon there was, he explored it; / Whatever wonder there was, he recorded it. / In propagation, he never let himself falter; / In his lineage, no clan could compare to him. / His frost congealed like ice; / His spirit was as steadfast as a mountain. / Outwardly detached, he was ever higher; / Inwardly radiant, he was ever more complete. / Vast was his lofty resonance, / Fitting to be modeled and followed. / Serene was his empty virtue, / Truly wondrous, truly genuine. / In stillness he penetrated the profound; / In motion he responded to humanity. / His words were treasures for the world; / His silence was a jewel for the times. / Once the Chinese customs were established, / The two teachings also submitted. / Who says the Way is declining? / The profound transformation was just renewed. / Since the awakening of the master, / There was no Way that was not broadened. / The spiritual breeze fanned far and wide; / The transcendent echo soared high. / He opened up this great method; / He lit this lamp of wisdom. / As soon as the sound of the Way was proclaimed, / The worldly net collapsed. / The roots of ignorance were all the more uprooted; / The supreme goodness was all the more increased. / For a man lodging in the mundane, / His paths are without fixed ways. / Unifying these myriad existences, / He tied together these sagging guidelines. / Complying through the four debts of gratitude, / Descending with the frost of wisdom. / Like that Vimalakīrti, / His traces entered city and lane. / Though his form responded comprehensively, / His spirit was empty in the imperial realm. / Though the incoming teachings are wondrous, / How could they suffice to praise him? / How magnificent was the Great Man, / Promoting and raising complete virtue! / Setting forth these names and forms, / Revealing that tranquil silence. / Penetrating through the myriad subtleties, / Binding them by the profound rule. / About to glorify prajñā, / So as to respond to the north of heaven. / Why did destiny turn contrary, / And the dark village secretly claim him? / Who will open the heavenly road? / Who will block the three bad paths? / Alas! How mournful! / The Perfected Man does nothing, / Yet there is nothing he does not do. / The net of expedient means covers from afar; / The long snare bridles from a distance. / Pure benevolence acts as the lure cast below; / Wandering travelers are caught above. / Diligently he gave skilled guidance; / Swiftly his breeze blew. / The Way could alter customs; / Transformation could shift the times. / How is it that Bright Heaven / Shattered this spiritual model? / Now that the Ultimate Truth has departed, / The One Way cannot be applied. / Devas and humans weep in grief; / Mournfully lament the spiritual deities. / Alas! How mournful! / When the master passed away, / The time was merely one hundred and six. / The master craftsman of the Way conceals his axe; / The Wheel of Brahmā broke its axle. / The morning sun cast down its light; / The jade peak was overturned. / The universe was dark at midday; / The times lost the eye of the Way. / Grieving, grieving are the common people; / Who will nurture and rear them? / The whole world mourns with feeling; / My own sorrow and heartbreak increase. / Alas! How mournful! / Once, in earlier days, / I roamed in the stream of benevolence. / Following its remaining waves, / I continued to receive the empty and profound. / Using it without exhaustion, / Drilling into it, it grew ever harder. / It outshone the sun and left the dust behind; / I hoped for a few more years to be added. / My slight feelings were not yet expressed, / When he had already passed with transformation. / If he could be ransomed, / I would trade a thousand for him. / The time cannot wait; / Life cannot be prolonged. / Regarding my body and regarding other men, / There is nothing to rely upon, no condition to hold to. / My mind gallops in boundless grief; / My feelings mourn to Bright Heaven. / Alas! How mournful!