廣弘明集 19.6

19.6

How remote indeed is the origin of all sentient beings! Its meaning lies hidden beyond the three piṭakas; its reality is not something the Two Vehicles can discern. Since consciousness first arose, [all beings] have rushed forth together, receiving retribution in accord with their conditions. Humans and devas have different courses; flying and crawling creatures belong to distinct orders. Suffering and joy overturn each other; folly and wisdom succeed one another. None do not dwell in the fire[-driven] chariot, galloping wildly, shifting like leaping flames and fierce storms. Through the fleeting daylight of a mere inch of shadow, they race along the remote path of eternal kalpas. Their spirits rise and fall amid myriad strands and thousands of designations. When the Tathāgata brought forth his beginning from ordinary ranks, he too was among those who possessed life; when it came to racing neck and neck, he was originally no different from them. But coming to the tipping of the first basket at the beginningless start and the completion of success at the end of the short counting-slips, the road was long and the practice extended, the wonderful carriage reaching far. Accumulating brilliance and amassing wisdom, his numinous awakening alone comprehended [the truth]. The great four-and-eight marks illumined the great thousandworlds; the honored two-and-nine dharmas enveloped what is beyond external limits. The practice of the six perfections was profound; the merit of the ten powers was naturally far-reaching. He saved living things through skillful means and subdued māras without force. The wonderful Dharma-wheel turned, and amṛta parted the mist. He served as boat and carriage for the six destinies, and as ford and bridge across the five paths. Ascending the long thoroughfare of the four crossroads, he proceeded by the broad road of the One Vehicle. These matters filled the Vaipulya scriptures; their meaning pervaded the divine palace. Coming down to the great provisional avatars assisting transformation, proclaiming and exalting the ultimate principle: giving oneself for living beings began in compassion, and casting away the body was rooted in selflessness. Their practices conformed to the four immeasurables; their path ascended the ten grounds. As for those whose numinous natures were exceptionally penetrating, obtaining it from within their own breasts: their spiritual efficacy and wondrous power required no study to attain. Galloping alone on a solitary spur, none knew their limits; tangled habituated defilements were instantly resolved in accord with their awakening to principle. There were also those who abandoned passions and eliminated thoughts, their bodies and minds devoid of desire. Wearying of the long toil of birth and death, looking yearningly to quiescent cessation, they turned their carriages [toward it]; comfortably self-possessed, their defilements vanished like smoke. Furthermore, the ways to direct the mind and reach the Dao do not rely on a single practice. Although merging in principle and sharing a common source, the sprout of inclination may differ. Therefore, elevated minds and lofty deeds take divergent paths toward the same goal; forgetting mental grasping and casting off desire, different routes reach the same destination. Some bruised their bodies upon grasses and stones, casting their bones into forests and marshes, inwardly devoid of physical form, outwardly taming wild rhinos and tigers. Some walked, stood, sat, or lay down without diverging in traces from the multitude; yet in their dhyāna practices and samādhi gates, never failing for an instant. Their patient endurance was as solid as metal and stone; their conduct in precepts had the pure lustre of precious jewels. Though autumn birds arrived in their season and spring sturgeons ran at their time, they remained steadfast in long-term vegetarian practice, with anxious vigilance ever in mind. The wondrous traces were not far off; the spiritual path was intimately close. Wherever there was awakening, there was comprehension; by proceeding along it, they arrived. Therefore, they could rely on wisdom to probe emptiness and mount the mind to illumine principle. Their modest inner feelings merged completely without attachment. Dwelling together in the three realms, they roamed alone with the spirit. Embracing the four heavens, they rolled up and unfurled myriad kalpas. Hearing a single phrase, they ascended the bodhimaṇḍa; receiving one word, they reached the other shore. Before the long night opened, the portal of their minds enlightened itself. Lingering along the sacred traces, they reposed their spiritual radiance. They carried book-bags to follow masters, and also dwelt in forests to organize their studies. Their feet trod the gate of wisdom, and their learning mastered the dragon treasury. Their wondrous lion-roar resounded afar, and their luan-bird voice carried to the distance. As for kneeling with crossed hands and focusing the mind, seeking sincerity rather than outward traces: they guided forth spiritual efficacy, illuminating and initiating the unawakened. The beauty of chanting and preaching shared in this significance. Reaching the differing customs of the nine lands and the diverging habits of the eight directions: whatever their roaming transformations encompassed arose from magnificent encouragement. All was sufficient to transfer radiance to the pure realm and elevate deportment to the precious land. They also renounced vanity, pruned adornments, severed love, and bid farewell to their kin. Striking the oars in the stream of non-arising, they aligned their carriage with the road beyond the mundane. They had indeed received the crowns of their heads stroked by a thousand Buddhas, and equaled the merits of the seventh abhimukhī ground. As for pure-believing laymen and laywomen who planted affinities across vast kalpas: though their attire remained unchanged, the virtue of precepts burgeoned within. Looking toward Vaiśālī, they raised their reins; gazing toward Persia, they turned their carriages. They drove through the far reaches of the four dhyānas, and drifted across the distant expanses of the eight liberations. Then there is the veneration of the Ten Epithets, and the three vidyās without obstruction: although the Dharmakāya has no material existence, it permanently resides in the person. The compassionate and capable Śākyamuni left provisional traces at the four gates, which was not the true beginning of his awakening to the Dao; his apparent extinction between the twin trees—how could it be an exhaustion like wood turning to ash? Yet devas and humans gaze up in yearning, feelings arising in their faint memory. They carve gold and mold jade to portray his countenance and depict his likeness. Numinous images outshine the sun; precious monasteries rise to the clouds. Some deploy the labor of spirits and ghosts; some draw upon the strength of bone and marrow. Crafted not by human artisans, they are completed through the synthesis of jewels. None lack the dragon-like adornments of eight colors and the jade blossoms of nine hues. Even his teeth and hair transmit spiritual efficacy, and his robes and shoes leave enduring proof. Sacred traces shine brightly, daily radiating over Jambudvīpa; divine lights glisten, numerous as stars over the pure realm. If one mounts this straightforward mind, sincerely proceeding in secret, then within half a breath one can overtake it, and within a single thought one arrives. Spiritual responses descend in variety, drifting like clouds and gathering like mist. These are further illumined in foreign translations and displayed on silk scrolls. Now, holding the tablets to record events has a long history: it is the means to record past traces and radiantly narrate far-reaching fame. Though seal scripts and bell inscriptions differ in style, and Central Asian and Chinese writings vary in rules, yet when it comes to expressing minds and spirits and modulating instructions and meanings, internal and external teachings indeed share the same standard, and humans and spirits follow a single track. The ancient classics of the Sanfen, Wudian, Baxuo, and Jiuxiu are the historical annals of the realm; the accounts of the Buddha's original arising and descent to be born are the chronicles outside the realm. Spoken of comprehensively, they have never been different. But scriptures and records are vast and complex, their lineages branching and scattered. The beginning and end of a single matter are divided across different cases and rolls. Words and meanings are broken off, or texts overlap with one another. No sooner has one stepped into a later passage than what was read earlier is obscured. Tracing the source and following the stream, one knows not where to turn. Although exquisite principles clarify the mind, if one stops at individual lines and verses, many among initial realizers and beginning students will be led into confusion. Moreover, the various sages of both inside and outside [the Buddhist teaching] have all recorded instructions and canons. Although their teachings have distinct portals, their principles share the same destination. Therefore, the two classes of books—the true and the conventional—mutually assist and encourage one another. Confucius brought forth their beginnings; the Buddha exhausted their ultimate reaches. Removing the net and casting away the guide-rope, benevolence and grace are present herein. Changing the people and transforming customs must be achieved gradually; whether refined or coarse, restrained or guided, each has its reason. Therefore, minutely discerning the mind and spirit, lodging the heart in the wondrous scriptures, yielding to the expositions of emptiness and existence, and comprehensively synthesizing the books that forget both: gathering the multitude of currents, I have compiled this classic. Matters are classified by categories, and meanings are grouped according to principle. For economy of effort and breadth of awakening, nothing surpasses this. One may seek by principle to prove and realize the wondrous fruition. If mounting a south-pointing chariot is still praised for preventing disorientation, and ingesting the four-glowing herb enables one to be free of delusion, how much more so when the six horses share a single bridle and the myriad streams flow into a single course! The sun and moon traversing the sky cannot compare to this; how could rivers and oceans girding the earth be enough to mention? This is indeed the trap and snare for entering the Dao, whereby all sentient beings may attain awakening.