廣弘明集 24.62

24.62

夫鳥居山上層巢木末。魚潛淵下窟穴埿沙。豈好異哉。蓋性其然也。故有忽白璧而樂垂綸。負玉鼎而要卿相。行藏紛糺顯晦踳駁。無異火炎水流圓動方息。斯則廟堂之與江海。蓬戶之與金閨。並然其所然。悅其所悅。焉足毛衣瘡痏在其間哉。予生自原野。善畏難狎。心駭雲臺朱屋。望絕高蓋青組。且霑濡霧露彌願閑逸。每思濯清瀨息椒丘。寤寐永懷其來尚矣。蚓專噬壤民欲天從。爰洎二毛得居巖穴。所居東陽郡金華山。東陽實會稽西部。是生竹箭。山川秀麗皐澤坱欝。若其群峯疊起則接漢連霞。喬林布濩則春青冬綠。迴溪泱流則十仞洞底。膚寸雲合必千里雨散。信卓犖爽塏。神居奧宅。是以帝鴻遊斯鑄鼎。雨師寄此乘煙。故㵎勒赤松之名。山貽縉雲之號。近代江治中奮迅埿滓王徵士。高拔風塵。龍盤鳳栖。咸萃茲地。良由碧湍素石可致幽人者哉。金華山古馬鞍山也。蘊靈藏聖列名仙諜。左元放稱此山云。可免洪水五兵。可合神丹九轉。金華之首有紫巖山。山色紅紫因以為稱。靡迤坡陀下屬深渚。巑岏隱嶙上虧日月。登自山麓漸高漸峻。路逈隘險魚貫而昇。路側有絕㵎閤閜哮豁。俯窺木杪。焦原石邑匪獨危懸。至山將半便有廣澤大川。皐陸隱脤。予之葺宇實在斯焉。所居三面迴山。周遶有象郛。郭前則平野蕭條。目極通望東。西帶二㵎四時飛流泉。清瀾微霔滴瀝生響。白波跳沫汹涌成音。漕瀆引流交渠綺錯。懸溜瀉於軒甍。激湍迴於階砌供帳無綆汲。盥漱息瓶匜。楓𣚛椅櫪之樹。梓柏桂樟之木。分形異色千族萬種。結朱實包綠菓。杌白蔕抽紫莖。橚樉苯䔿捎。風鳴籟垂條櫩戶布葉。房櫳中谷㵎濱。花蘂攢列至於青春受謝。萍生泉動則有都梁含馥。𢸬香送芬。長樂負霜。宜男贙露。芙蕖紅華照水。皐蘇縹葉從風。憑軒永眺蠲憂忘疾。丘阿陵曲眾藥灌叢。地髓抗莖山筋抽節。金鹽重於素璧。五豉貴於明珠。可以養性銷痾還年駐色。不藉崔文黃散。勿用負局紫丸。翾翾翔鳥風胎雨鷇。綠翼紅毛素羽翠鬣。肅肅切羽關關好音。馴狎園池旅食鷄鶩。若迺䲰日伺辰響類鍾鼓。鳴蚿候曙聲象琴瑟。玄猨薄霧清囀。飛㹳乘煙永吟。嘈囋䬟喨悅心娛耳。諒所以跨躡管籥韜軼笙簧。宅東起招提寺。背巖面壑層軒引景。邃宇臨空博敞閑虛。納祥生白左睠右睇。仁智所居。故碩德名僧振錫雲萃。調心七覺詆訶五塵。郁烈戒香浴滋定水。至於熏鑪夜爇法鼓旦聞。予跕屣摳衣。躬行頂禮。詢道哲人飲和至教。每聞此河紛梗彼岸永寂。熙熙然若登春臺而出宇宙。唯善是樂。豈伊徒言。寺東南有道觀亭。亭崖側下望雲雨。蕙樓蘭榭隱曖林篁。飛觀烈錢玲瓏煙霧。日止却粒之氓。歲次祈仙之客。餌星髓吸流霞。將乃雲衣霓裳乘龍馭鶴。觀下有石井。聳跱中㵎。彫硺刻削頗類人工。躍流潀瀉渀涌泱咽。電擊雷吼駭目驚魂。寺觀前皆植脩竹。檀欒蕭飋被陵緣阜。竹外則有良田。區畛通接山泉膏液。欝潤肥腴。鄭白決漳莫之能擬。致紅粟流溢鳧雁充厭。春鱉旨檀碧鷄。冬蕈味珍霜鵽。縠巾取於丘嶺。短褐出自中園。莞蔣逼側池湖。菅蒯駢填原隰養給之資生生所用。無不阜實蕃籬充牣崖巘。歲始年季農隙時。閑濁醪初醞清觴新。熟則田家有野老。提壺共至。班荊林下陳罇置爵。酒酣耳熱屢舞讙呶。晟論箱庾高談穀稼。嗢噱謳歌舉杯相挹。人生樂耳。此歡豈訾。若夫蠶而衣耕而食。日出而作日入而息。晚食當肉無事為貴。不求於世不忤於物。莫辨榮辱匪知毀譽。浩蘯天地之間。心無怵惕之警。豈與嵇生齒劍楊子墜閣較其優劣者哉。

Now, birds dwell atop the mountains, tiering their nests at the tips of trees; fish submerge beneath the deeps, boring caves in mud and sand. How could they take pleasure in being eccentric? It is simply their nature to be so. Thus, some disdain white jade and delight in dangling the fishing line; others shoulder jade caldrons to seek ministerial office. Activity and retirement are tangled and manifold; emergence and obscurity are varied and uneven; they are no different from fire flaming, water flowing, the round moving, and the square coming to rest. Hence, whether courtly halls or rivers and seas, thatched doors or golden chambers, each is so by what makes it so, and is pleased by what pleases it. How could it be worth picking faults and pointing out flaws among them? I was born in the wild plains, quick to fear and hard to draw near to. My heart shrinks from cloud terraces and vermilion halls; my hopes are severed from high carriages and green ribbons of office. Furthermore, drenched by mists and dew, I desire leisure and solitude all the more. Constantly thinking of washing in clear rapids and resting on peppered hills, my waking and sleeping thoughts have long cherished this; it has been so for ages. An earthworm solely swallows dirt; what a person desires, Heaven accords. Thus, when grey hairs arrived, I was able to dwell in cliff caves. The place where I dwell is Mount Jinhua in Dongyang Commandery. Dongyang is in truth the western part of Kuaiji; here arrow bamboo grows, mountains and streams are elegant and fair, and marshlands are lush and verdant. When its peaks rise in ranks, they join the Milky Way and connect with rosy clouds; when tall forests spread abroad, they are verdant in spring and green in winter. Winding torrents flow deep and wide, ten fathoms clear to the bottom; clouds gathering in square inches invariably scatter rain across a thousand li. Truly it is eminent, bright, and dry—an arcane abode where spirits dwell. For this reason, Dihong roamed here to cast caldrons, and the Rain Master lodged here to ride the smoke. Hence the ravine was engraved with the name of Chisong, and the mountain was bequeathed the appellation of Jinyun. In recent times, Wang the summoned scholar, who held the post of Zhizhong of Jiang, shook himself free of the mire; standing tall above the wind and dust, like dragons coiling and phoenixes roosting, they all gathered in this place. Surely it is because green rapids and white stones can summon recluses! Mount Jinhua is the ancient Mount Ma'an; cherishing spiritual efficacy and concealing holy beings, its name is listed in the annals of immortals. Zuo Yuanfang praised this mountain, saying: 'It can avert the great flood and the five weapons; it can compound the divine elixir of nine transmutations.' At the crest of Jinhua there is Mount Ziyan (Purple Cliff); the mountain's hue is reddish-purple, and it took its name therefrom. Winding and sloping, it descends to meet deep shoals; towering and craggy, it reaches up to obscure the sun and moon. Ascending from the mountain foot, it grows ever higher and steeper; the path is remote, narrow, and perilous, climbed in single file like swimming fish. Beside the path is a sheer ravine, yawning and roaring wide open; looking down upon the treetops, the dangers of Jiaoyuan and Shiyi are not alone in hanging precariously. Reaching nearly halfway up the mountain, there are wide marshes and great rivers, with high shores and undulating ridges; the dwelling I thatched is situated right here. The residence is surrounded on three sides by curving mountains, encircling it like outer city walls; before it, the flat wilderness stretches desolate, with views extending as far as the eye can see. To the east and west it is girded by two ravines, where springs cascade in all four seasons. Clear billows mist lightly, dripping with sound; white waves leap in foam, churning with noise. Water channels convey streams, intertwining like brocade; suspended torrents pour over eaves and ridgepoles, rushing currents swirl round the steps and pavements. Supplying the household requires no drawing-ropes; washing and rinsing need no pitchers or basins. Trees like maple, catalpa, chair-tree, and oak, timber like roxburgh, cypress, cassia, and camphor, divide into forms and differ in colors in thousands of kinds and myriads of sorts, bearing vermilion fruits and holding green melons, rooted on white stalks and shooting up purple stems. Tall and luxuriant, brushing the wind and sounding the pipes, their trailing branches shade the eaves and doors, their spreading leaves screen the chambers and windows. In the valleys and along the ravine banks, blossoms and stamens cluster together; when the green spring yields to summer, and duckweed sprouts as springs stir, there is Duliang herb holding fragrance, and Zhixiang wafting sweet odors, Changle braving the frost, and Yinan glistening with dew. Red lotus flowers illumine the water; pale leaves of Gaosu follow the wind. Leaning on the railing to gaze afar, one dispels sorrow and forgets disease. In the bends of the hills and curves of the mounds, medicinal plants form dense thickets: 'earth marrow' rears its stems, and 'mountain sinew' shoots out its nodes; 'gold salt' is more prized than plain jade, and 'five condiments' are treasured above bright pearls. With them one can nourish one's nature, dispel maladies, restore youth, and retain one's complexion, without relying on Cui Wen's yellow powder, nor needing to use the purple pills of the Burden-bearer. Fluttering birds fly in the wind, their chicks bred in the rains, with green wings, red feathers, plain plumage, and kingfisher crests; briskly beating their wings, they make harmonious, lovely sounds, taming themselves in garden ponds and foraging alongside chickens and ducks. Then, the day-announcing fowl watches the hours with sounds like bells and drums; the chirping cricket waits for dawn with notes resembling zithers and lutes. Black gibbons trill clearly in the light mist; flying squirrels chant long notes riding the vapor. Clamorous, crisp, and bright, pleasing the heart and delighting the ear, they truly surpass pipes and flutes and outshine reeds and mouth organs. East of the dwelling stands the Zhaoti Monastery; backing against the cliff and facing the gorge, its tiered verandas invite sunlight; its profound halls border the void, wide, spacious, peaceful, and vacant, receiving good fortune and giving rise to brightness. Looking left and gazing right, it is a dwelling for the humane and wise. Therefore, eminent and virtuous monks of renowned virtue shake their staffs and gather like clouds, taming their minds with the seven factors of awakening and reproving the five sense objects; the rich incense of the precepts is fragrant, and the water of samādhi provides a cleansing bath. When the incense burner is lit at night and the Dharma drum is heard at dawn, I slip on my sandals, gather my robe, and personally perform prostrations, inquiring after the Way from wise men and drinking the harmony of the ultimate teaching. Constantly hearing that this shore is full of turmoil and obstacles while that shore is eternally serene, I feel joyous as if ascending a spring terrace and transcending the cosmos. 'Only goodness brings joy'—how could this be an empty saying? Southeast of the monastery is a Daoist pavilion; perched beside a cliff, it looks down upon clouds and rain. Orchis chambers and thoroughwort pavilions lie half-hidden among groves and bamboos; soaring turrets and rows of balustrades glitter in the smoke and mist. Daily there dwell people who abstain from grain; yearly there lodge guests who pray for immortality, feeding on stellar marrow and drinking flowing rosy clouds, soon to put on cloudy clothes and rainbow skirts to ride dragons and steer cranes. Below the temple is a stone well, towering in the midst of the ravine; carved and chiselled, it looks much like human work. Leaping streams rush and pour, gushing, surging, sweeping, and choking, flashing like lightning and roaring like thunder, startling the eyes and alarming the soul. In front of both monastery and temple, slender bamboos are planted everywhere; dense and rustling, they blanket the knolls and line the mounds. Beyond the bamboos are fertile fields, their borders interconnected, nourished by rich fluids of mountain springs, moist and fertile, so that neither the Zheng and Bai canals nor the diverting of the Zhang could be compared to it. This causes red grain to overflow, and wild ducks and geese to be sated. In spring, turtles and fragrant green chickens are delicacies; in winter, mushrooms and frosted quail are treasures. Silken headscarves are obtained from the mountain hills; short coarse garments come from the middle garden. Bulrushes and reeds crowd the ponds and lakes; sedges and rush grasses pack the plains and lowlands. Materials for sustaining life and things used for daily existence are completely abundant along the fences and fill the cliffs and peaks to overflowing. When the year begins or ends, and farming is at leisure, when turbid brew is newly fermented and clear wine freshly matured, the old elders of peasant homes bring their jugs and arrive together. Spreading rushes beneath the forest, they set out vessels and arrange cups. As the wine warms and their ears grow hot, they dance repeatedly and make merry din, praising the fullness of granaries and loudly discussing the grain harvest, laughing aloud and chanting songs, raising cups to toast one another. Human life is just for joy; how could this happiness be blamed? As for weaving silk to be clothed and plowing to be fed, working when the sun rises and resting when the sun sets, treating late eating as meat and taking non-affair as precious, seeking nothing from the world and offending no creature, distinguishing neither honor nor disgrace, knowing neither blame nor praise, wandering vast and free between heaven and earth with no alarming fear in one's heart—how could this be compared in superiority and inferiority to Master Ji who faced the sword, or Master Yang who leaped from the pavilion?