廣弘明集 23.33

23.33

Waiting upon things before wandering, one's practical function arises outside; when the Way comes from within oneself, one's breast is filled with joy. Therefore, keeping the treasure concealed and the uncut jade hidden, one guided paired chariots out of Wei; the luan phoenix soared beyond the thread of clouds, how could it board a carriage to enter Wei? For this reason, a gentleman who disdains worldly conventions values keeping his way solitary; a person who dwells in seclusion has no grief over his lofty independence. Whenever I unfolded books, their past brilliance shone resplendently; thus I was already on tiptoe, sighing with feeling, yet body and mind felt inadequate. As for his aloof and solitary air, it was already elevated in his youth; his spirit reaching beyond high peaks, his early resolve could extend far. When he first rested his carriage at Mount Lu, his age had just reached that of capping his hair; his lofty and far-reaching aspirations immediately stretched a thousand leagues. Thereupon he sought to shave his head and take to the Way, forgetting his family to enter the Dharma. At that time, the śramaṇa Shi Huiyuan, although he esteemed his extreme elevation, did not grant his request because he was still young. Thereupon he climbed the perilous precipice of Kong Stream and Taiyang, throwing himself down over the void, exchanging his life for his aspiration. The Dharma Master marveled at him and accepted him. Born of noble and splendid lineage, his conduct centered on simple practice. Before the fierce dew became harsh, he outstripped the wind in austere discipline. His fellow students could not endure the toil, but this man did not alter his conduct. At that time, the scriptural canon was just coming east, and its study was pursued to the right of the Hua mountains. Thereupon he set out on a journey of ten thousand leagues, repeatedly wandering through the regions of Hangu Pass and Luoyang. Calming and wisdom illuminated each other, and worldly utility grew daily slighter. After Kumārajīva passed away and Master Yuan departed this life, he retraced his steps to the mountain pass and lived in seclusion in deep caves. His resolve not to leave Mount Ruoye has now lasted for over twenty years. My uncle retired due to illness and returned to care for himself, continually yearning for his wind. The Dharma Master, moved by the feeling, came to visit, and they sat together through long talks and banquets. Finishing their discourse in the clear pavilion, they parted without formally parting; thus silence and speech were mutually comprehended, and movement and stillness were completely encompassed. The retired scholar Dai Yong had a refined, clear, and unconstrained disposition; their spiritual dwellings were equally aloof and their refined principles blended seamlessly. Thereupon, leaning on the cliff, he constructed an open veranda, and stopping by the forest, he opened a lodge; outside the human world, they met as friends through their shared minds. The Xi River is just surging with waves, while the Eastern Mountain has already collapsed. The wind and clouds have dispersed, and the plants and trees harbor lingering sorrow. Deep is the grief of my heart, and tears fall without cease. Alas, how sorrowful! Thus I compose this eulogy: