廣弘明集 22.58

22.58

I have heard that the two modes of nature have forms, manifesting canopy and support to embrace living beings; the four seasons are formless, covertly alternating cold and heat to transform things. Therefore, looking up at heaven and inspecting the earth, even the common and foolish recognize their beginnings; clarifying yin and penetrating yang, even the worthy and wise rarely exhaust their reckonings. Yet heaven and earth envelop yin and yang and are easy to know, because they have form; yin and yang dwell within heaven and earth and are difficult to exhaust, because they lack form. Thus we know that when forms are manifest and verifiable, even the foolish are not confused; when shapes are hidden and invisible, even the wise remain perplexed. How much more so with the Buddhist Way, which exalts the void, rides the obscure, and commands stillness! Broadly rescuing the myriad classes, it guides and governs the ten directions. It elevates majestic spirit without limit, and reins in divine power without bound. At its largest it fills the universe, and at its finest it fits within a hair's tip. Without cessation and without arising, it traverses a thousand kalpas without growing old; appearing as if hidden or manifest, it deploys a hundred blessings and endures into the present. The marvelous Way condenses in the dark and deep; following it, none can know its boundary. The stream of Dharma is clear and still; dipping into it, none can plumb its source. Thus we know that the ignorant, ordinary, and common folk, when confronted with its aims, cannot but have doubts and hesitations! Now, the rising of the Great Teaching was founded in the Western lands; it soared into the Han court as an auspicious dream, and illuminated the Eastern regions, pouring forth compassion. In ancient times, when the Buddha divided his forms and traces, his transformation was accomplished before words were spread; during the age when he constantly manifested his enduring presence, the people looked up to his virtue and knew to follow him. But when his shadow was dimmed and he returned to truth, changing his form and passing from the world, his golden countenance concealed its luster, no longer mirroring the radiance of the three-thousandfold world; his beautiful likeness was set forth in depictions, displaying in empty air his thirty-two marks. Thereupon his subtle words spread widely, rescuing sentient beings from the three paths; his bequeathed instructions were proclaimed far, guiding living beings toward the ten grounds. Yet the true teaching was hard to look up to, and none could unify its direction; perverse doctrines were easy to follow, and the heterodox and orthodox became tangled therein. Thus the debates over emptiness and existence were judged right or wrong according to prevailing customs, and the Great and Lesser Vehicles waxed and waned with the times. There is the Dharma Master Xuanzang, who is a leader of the Dharma gates. In his youth he embraced constancy and compassion, early on awakening to the mind of the three emptannesses; grown to maturity, he matched divine perception, first encompassing the practice of the four patiences. The wind in the pines and the moon on the water are insufficient to match his pure radiance; fairy dew and bright pearls can hardly rival his luminous clarity. Thus, with his wisdom penetrating without impediment and his spirit detecting what has not yet taken shape, he transcended the six sense objects to stand far apart, unrivaled across a thousand ages. He concentrated his mind on the inner realm, grieving over the decline of the true Dharma; he rested his thoughts in the profound gate, lamenting the errors in the esoteric texts. He wished to distinguish the branches, analyze the principles, and broaden what had been heard before, cutting off the false to continue the true and opening the way for later students. Therefore, raising his heart toward the pure land, he journeyed to the Western Regions, braving dangers to travel afar and leaning on his staff to journey alone. In the morning, drifting snow flew and the ground was lost beneath his path; in the evening, startling sands arose and the sky was obscured beyond the air. Across myriad leagues of mountains and rivers, he pushed through mists and clouds to advance his shadow; through a hundred rounds of cold and heat, he trod upon frost and rain to press his footsteps forward. Sincere in gravity, regarding labor as light, his quest was deep and his vow attained. He wandered the Western realm for seventeen years, traversing the lands of the Way to the utmost and inquiring after the orthodox teachings. In the Twin Śāla Groves and along the eight rivers, he tasted the Way and fed on the wind; in the Deer Park and on Vulture Peak, he gazed upon marvels and revered the extraordinary. He received ultimate words from past sages, and accepted the true teaching from eminent worthies. He explored the secrets of the marvelous gate, thoroughly mastering the profound teachings. The paths of the One Vehicle and the five vinayas galloped across the field of his mind; the texts of the eight treasuries and three baskets surged like billows upon the ocean of his mouth. Thereupon, from the countries he had passed through, he brought back essential texts of the Tripiṭaka, six hundred and fifty-seven works in all, to translate and disseminate in the central lands, proclaiming the supreme enterprise. He drew the clouds of compassion from the western extremity, and poured the rain of Dharma upon the eastern borders. The holy teachings, once fragmented, became complete again; the common people, once sinful, returned to blessings. He dampened the dry flames of the burning house, together plucking beings from the deluded paths; he clarified the murky waves of the river of attachment, together reaching the other shore. Thus we know that evil causes fall by karma, and good rises through conditions; the starting point of rising and falling depends solely on what a person relies upon. Just as when a cassia tree grows on a high ridge, clouds and dew can moisten its flowers; when a lotus emerges from clear waves, flying dust cannot soil its leaves. It is not that the lotus's nature is intrinsically pure and the cassia's substance inherently constant, but truly because that which they cleave to is high, so trivial things cannot burden them, and that which they rely upon is pure, so turbid things cannot stain them. If insensate flora still depend on good to achieve good, how much more so should conscious humankind seek blessings by relying on auspicious conditions? We hope that these scriptures will spread endlessly with the sun and moon, and that this blessing will extend far and wide, enduring forever with heaven and earth.