廣弘明集 15.10

15.10

The way of establishing humanity is called benevolence and righteousness. Yet benevolence and righteousness have their root: it is called the Way and virtue. In the past, at the end of the Ji-Zhou dynasty, there was a great sage named the Buddha. He was the crown prince of Śuddhodana, the Śākya king of India. His mundane clan on his mother's side had the surname of Gautama. Looking up to his divine lineage, he inherited it magnificently; relying on the lingering fragrance of those wise ones, he absorbed the generative transformation of harmonious equilibrium and was endowed with the vast purity of Śuddhodana. Born from the right rib, he was able to speak in infancy. Truly, he regarded heavenly nobility without addition as precious; sincerely, he considered leisurely emoluments without need as sufficient. Thus, he was always vigilant at night in the high seat, viewing the purple court as a traveler's lodge; he grieved in the crown prince's palace, planning to take wing beyond the realm. Soon he soared high to view the open country, opening the four imperial gates and thrice witnessing suffering. The poets encouraged him with stirring words, and he willingly accepted them without resistance. Inquiring of the great Way from those who possessed it, he lamented having tarried here so long. Thereupon, setting out at dawn on a distant journey, he reposed in seclusion. He cast off the heavy treasures of the imperial heir, hoping to rise lightly without dependence; he discarded the splendid robes of dragon-herbs and exchanged them for the humble coarse garments of the craggy peaks. The companions who escorted him turned back from the cliff. Thereupon, he held his resolve unyielding as stone, resting in benevolence like a mountain. Residing among patterned plants, he disciplined his mind and swore an oath. He ordered the breath-threads of ānāpāna, and employed the ten counts to settle his mind; he set aside the eight notes of the four tallies, and following the two kinds of pursuing, he examined and patrolled. Cutting off both extremities of sending off and welcoming, he focused on the subtle unity at the tip of his nose. He brought forth the clear illumination of the three cessations, and penetrating the four contemplations, he united and obliterated [distinctions]. The five aggregates reverted to the returning storehouse; the six senses became empty in the quiet grove. He cooled the fire of desire in the five internal organs, and broadened the vast mind of primordial simplicity. Cleansing himself in prajñā to advance his virtue, he submerged himself in the seventh abode to drink deeply of the mystery. He sought the dark fish across the six cut-offs, and once his purpose was established, he cast away the trap. Dispelling the accumulated habits of ten thousand kalpas, he was like one who has innate knowledge in his own time. Veiling the five defilements, he shone with unique radiance; succeeding the six Buddhas, he subtly transmitted [the teaching]. Greatly measuring sixteen feet, his body wore a circular halo; manifesting the moderation of the central yellow, his color was as brilliant as purple gold. His movements soared through the void, traveling far in an instant. The eight tones diffused fragrance, serenely radiating brilliance. Peering subtly into what had not yet omened, he surpassed the six lines; bringing things tortuously to completion where already manifest, his transformation exceeded the three and five sovereigns. His empty capacity was as vast as the great void; his spirit covered more broadly than Heaven and Earth. The easy and simple awaited him to form their substance; the great harmony was modeled on him to be acclaimed as noble. The round yarrow stalks resembled his spiritual stillness; the square hexagrams modeled his all-encompassing wisdom. Illuminating the lingering auspiciousness of accumulated blessings, he took past lives as the root of his creations. At times he bound them with virtue and righteousness; at times he dispersed them with empty breeze. Clear and shining, his form transformed daily with novelty; he anticipated the sublime lord who is inexhaustible. His excellence was already bluer than indigo; displaying a hundredfold smelting, he attained purity. Guiding the myriad beings to return to the source, he uprooted the external barriers of Yao and Confucius. Entrusting the eight hundred million to state the ultimate, he encompassed the ancient records to raise up the scriptures. Gathering the three absences of the Daoxing, he bound Laozi and Zhuangzi within the ancestral mystery. His spiritual transformation was manifest in the Western Regions, like the morning glow rising in the Valley of the Sun. The people looked to his light and arose to act, like melodies harmonizing with the gong and shang notes. At that time, the subtle and inaudible was far beyond the wind of Fuxi; the divine and wonderful surpassed the Yellow Emperor. His lush brilliance was tranquil and boundless compared to the Zhou and Tang; his lingering taste of eulogy exceeded that of Zou and Lu. Truly he can be called the sovereign leader of spiritual transformation, the ancestral model for august rulers. When his age exceeded following his heart's desire, he obliterated his traces in nirvāṇa. Now, the ultimate person acts at times and ceases at times; he may conceal himself here and appear there. His traces ended in the Sahā world; he returned darkly to Vipaśyin. Worldly people follow the ordinary and are startled by the extraordinary; naturally they gauge it by living and dying. As for the nature of spiritual awakening, the three fruits were ruined and withered. It was as sudden as a river collapsing, as falling as heaven crashing down. The dark-haired people shared the darkness of eternal night; the dark flow was abandoned along with the dried-up ford. The six pāramitās collapsed along with the crumbling peaks; the three vehicles uncoupled their axles and loosened their reins. The disciples wept tears of blood and mourned deeply; the hundred spirits harbored grief and their hearts trembled. Now, one whose Way is lofty responds to the lowly; one who follows along endears himself to praise. Thus, they wept without wishing to weep: is it not that forgetting all under heaven together makes it easy for all under heaven to forget one? Although his spiritual presence spread abroad to encompass the six directions, the destined cycle ended in the Red County, so that those who died later might participate in hearing of it. Looking up in admiration to his divine countenance, the matter has ended across a thousand years. Jetavana has already withered and fallen, and the jade tree has ultimately become desolate. The Way is lost and the man is gone; that time is truly finished. With my lack of talent, I look up and follow the great Way; pursuing the morning sun, I have not reached it; leaning on the mulberry and elm, I have not yet risen. My spirit races to the past, and I pray to pay reverence once more. Thereupon, taking up the brush and invoking antiquity, I express my far-reaching thoughts. The words say: