廣弘明集 24.59

24.59

On the twentieth day of the eighth month, Zhilin makes prostration. The Dharma-realm is empty and hollow; the mountain timber has collapsed. The venerable master, the Great Rector, has transferred his spirit to the Pure Land. Bound by the shallow defilements of ordinary mortals, we are entangled in grief and joy. Receiving this tragic report, my inner organs are torn and wrenched; my lamentation is profoundly deep, and I cannot contain myself. Remembering and longing for his eternal departure, entangled and severed, my feelings are unbearable. What can be done? What can be done? The Great Rector's virtue surpassed his era, and his Way sheltered the fourfold assembly. Instructing and guiding students, he continued and magnified the Semblance Dharma. In age, he was at the head of the sangha; in practice, he was a teacher of humankind. Both public and private revered him; near and far looked up to him as their master. As for the propagation and explanation of the five periods and nine divisions of scriptures, matching him against predecessors and comparing him to the worthies of the past, even Kumārajīva, Sengzhao, Sengrong, Sengheng, Dao'an, Huiyuan, and Daosheng—how could they surpass him? Although sudden enlightenment originated with Master Daosheng, that its subtle words were proclaimed without end to later generations truly relied on our master! Furthermore, with loving speech he brought benefit, exhausting the grand purpose of the four means of embracing; with giving, patience, and wisdom, he fully manifested the comprehension of the six pāramitās. Monastics and laity took refuge in him; sentient beings knew his shelter. He was a ferry across foolish darkness, a pillar and beam for temples and pagodas. People used him daily without knowing it, as his supreme virtue operated covertly. Why is the Way so long-lasting yet life so short, his merit spread far yet his person deceased? Reflecting upon the great ocean, Sumeru has forever fallen; shining upon the lofty mountains, the bright sun has permanently withdrawn. He is gone! What can be done? What else can be done? You, Dharma Master, turned your face north to serve him since youth, taking his teaching to heart from childhood; down to your advanced years, you were always by his side. The threefold weight of veneration was cast away in a single day; how can you bear the extremity of your grief? For over fifty years your disciple has associated with him since the days of my youth; before receiving his profound regard, we pledged to be Dharma companions. When it comes to bodhi, I dare not give rise to neglect. The future is hard to know, while the present is eternally parted. Reflecting upon his life, he has forever become one with myriad antiquity; pondering this sorrow, I am doubly overwhelmed. Having no way to console you in person to express worldly grief, I respectfully write this letter and drop my brush, choked with sorrow and overwhelmed. Your disciple Liu Zhilin bows his head and makes prostration.