廣弘明集 23.22

23.22

The clarity of the Si and the Bian,
The height of Mount Lüliang—
Only this graceful spirit
Nurtured this brilliant talent.
Like the orchid among grasses,
Like the jade among stones,
It was not through polishing or carving
That this fragrant brilliance was accomplished.
From the beginning of his aspiration to learn,
He took to heart the mysterious traces.
Passing into his ears, understood in his mind;
Opening the texts, he arranged the bamboo slips.
Young, he ascended the lecture seat;
There was no passage he did not analyze.
Skillful in using concise words,
He did not value superfluous phrases.
Those with understanding respectfully received them,
Satisfied with his deep investigations.
In middle age he scrutinized the teachings,
Yet the principles were not fully refined.
For this reason he traveled the regions,
Seeking them in the profound and hidden.
Though encountering distinct doctrines,
He increasingly felt they converged near.
When the road ended with nowhere to turn,
He turned the shafts and redirected his carriage.
Cutting away nominal commentaries,
He illuminated what lies beyond matters.
What obstruction was not made to flow?
What obscurity was not made clear?
As if the morning sun emerged,
Its brightness brilliantly illuminated.
The four fruits and ten abodes,
Were elevated and corrected through this.
The ox and horse of the Yijing,
The fish and bird of Zhuangzi—
Who, scrutinizing these realities,
Would not be deluded regarding this Way?
Dwelling long in this enlightenment,
He gave me instructional words:
“The Way truly resides herein;
All listeners have turned away.
Do not stand in stubborn opposition,
And reprove those of wide learning.”
I considered this harmless,
And urged him to propagate it.
His understanding aligned with upright sincerity;
He saw and cautioned against frivolous clamour.
Silently resting in shade, he abandoned the great,
Stilling these clamorous mouths.
Ascending his perch, he achieved excellence,
Distantly escaping to bamboo thickets.
Reclusive thoughts by the spring's source,
Unimpeded by rivers and mounds.
Hoping to rely on leisure,
It is said that the benevolent enjoy longevity.
Yet life is subject to fate,
Never lasting forever.
The fragrant orchid swiftly withered,
Its spirit harmed in isolation. Alas, how grievous!
Recalling our first parting,
As the third month of autumn announced its close;
The wind was severe, the stream clear,
The clouds high, the forest bare.
Seeing you off at the southern shore,
Joining hands, we went our separate ways.
Vast and boundless, your departure and staying;
Sorrowful, our affectionate backward glances.
Who remains in retirement?
Each followed the current or went upstream.
Grieved by this lasting estrangement,
Parting became eternal separation. Alas, how grievous!
Facing the incoming wind, the echo ceases;
Seeing off departing clouds, there is no reliance.
Far off, the three winter months have passed;
The turning year is offered to this spring.
Listening to the joyful birds of the sun,
Gazing upon the misty warmth of the spiritual air;
Remembering the schools in this month,
Truly an auspicious time for practicing studies.
Saddened by the empty sight of the lecture hall,
Pained by the hollow sound at the high seat;
Sighing over how matters lead to pitying principles,
Grieving over how feelings turn to yearning for the man. Alas, how grievous!
The Way of Heaven is obscure and dim,
Yet truth and compliance can be inferred.
Principle does not perish;
May we perhaps return together.
Longevity and early death can be set aside;
Sentiments and yearnings can be pursued.
A short piece cannot fully express it,
I merely use it to write my grief. Alas, how grievous!