廣弘明集 24.73

24.73

I humbly reflect: The clear Wei and the turbid Jing mingle together into the source that pays homage to the ocean; the tall pine and the short arrow bamboo equally maintain their steadfast nature. Fortunately relying on the Five Constants of sentient beings, principle dictates that the Three Teachings should encompass them. Therefore, the Ruist youth of Queli propagated the classic of propriety between the Zhu and the Si rivers; Kāśyapa of Kuxian transferred the marvelous Way beyond the flowing sands. Although they encompassed heaven and earth, they were limited to this single lifetime. How could they compare to raising the true Dharma at Mṛgadāva, and dissolving false thoughts at Gṛdhrakūṭa? Once the partial and full teachings were set forth, the provisional and the real were thereby manifested; truly, teachings vary in depth, but people know no distinction between inside and outside. The Chan Master's virtuous reputation vibrates far and wide, and his conduct surpasses the realm of worldly things. Taking in the four reliances, he achieved recitation while herding sheep; carrying book-boxes for a thousand li, he traversed the Dragon Palace and comprehensively gathered everything. Thus, internally he penetrated the nine divisions and took charge of the secret treasury of the Snow Mountains; externally he encompassed the Seven Summaries and fully mastered the classic texts of the Biyong. There are Zhi Dun's inscription on Tiantai and Zhu Zhen's record of Luofu; the compositions of Tan on the Seven Ridges, the chants of Tai on the Three Rivers; Master Bao's subtle refutation of Master Zhuang, and Venerable Qu's gathered treatises—you swallow Yunmeng as easily as pointing to your palm. Moreover, you wonderfully uphold the pure precepts as if protecting a bright pearl, and skillfully maintain the monastic rules as if facing a suspended mirror. Inheriting the hidden conduct of Rāhula, you plant the field of merit of Piṇḍola. Dipping into the waters of samādhi, you immediately ascend through vitarka and vicāra; shaded high beneath the branches of dhyāna, you are about to surpass joy and equanimity. Therefore, not deeming Xiaoxiang distant, you came to grace the plains of Mian, planting your staff at Longquan to establish a monastery, and turning your cart at Magu to immediately found a saṅghārāma. Chipping the peak to install a shrine, what need was there to pile up sand to form a stūpa? Utilizing the mountain to build a retreat, what toil was there to spread gold to purchase the ground? Bodhisattvas gather like clouds, their sleeves dense as at Huayin; Dharma companions rush in like friends, their assembly matching Jixia. In the Chan chamber at dawn, the seasonal fragrance is like pollia; the caitya opened at dusk momentarily enters Peach Blossom Spring. The Sanskrit sounds of Gandhamādana harmonize with Ruan Ji's whistling; the wondrous music of the Sun Palace blends in rhythm with Sun Deng's zither. The steadfast pines of Zigai still point toward supreme eloquence; the divine well of Hongya immediately purifies the elevated mind. Thus, your talent was worthy of buying a mountain, and your virtue surpassed sharing a carriage; the high peak of admirable conduct is separated by thousands of cubits. The winds of karma agitate this disciple's thoughts, and the ocean of desire submerges my form. Since the fall of the palace at Jiangling, nearly two cycles of twelve years have elapsed; by day I am weary of restless daydreaming, and at night I grieve over startling dreams. Unable to forget the self and other, to turn my chariot toward the One Vehicle, to sweep clean my breast, or to brightly open the three vidyās, already brooding on the vine gnawed by mice, I am further pained by the bird in the snare. Formerly, at the age of aspiration to learning, my family transmitted the bestowed books; I gently immersed myself in the Five Rites and sated myself with the Three Mysteries, quite wearing out the leather thongs and composing what remained of their legacy. Then, upon reaching twenty years of age, I gleaned from the Hundred Schools, and when serving in office, I lingered over literature. Though I could not gather materials at Longmen or climb with ladders at Kuaiji, or compose rhapsodies on the wren and sing of the parrot, if one seeks a solitary trace, it vaguely resembled the ancients. Yet having deeply awakened to the clustered bubbles, my feelings are grieved by fleeting encounters; I have always wished to cast off secular understanding like a cicada shedding its shell, craving the taste of tathatā. One day at the city of Yun, I inquired and visited Master Wei's lodge; kneeling with joyful feelings, it was as if matching socks, but before finishing offering the shoe, opening our hearts abruptly turned to lamenting the fleeting transience of things. Promptly looking around, I brush off my garments from the worldly net, cast off my shoes from entwining threads, wash my cap-strings in the Canglang River, and embrace the jar in Hanyin. Practicing the ingestion of the nine-times-cycled elixir to dispel dark sorrows, I gradually awaken to the three emptannesses and am about to ascend to the patience of suffering. At Xianliang, observing jade does not preclude following a master; breaking peach branches in deep ravines poses no hindrance to seeking instruction. What I hope for is that your towering spirit matching Heaven will briefly answer Zaochi, and your elevated discussions of Yanmen will from time to time reply to a fine guest. In winter warm as spring, I hope you will treasure your pure discipline. The room is near yet the person is far, which further stirs my sash-belt; in the rest of these remaining words on broken slips, I reflect that there is neither gold nor jade.