鐔津文集 12

English (machine translation) 12

Language: English

12.1

Composed by Śramaṇa Qisong of Dongshan, Tanjin, Tengzhou

This mountain fills the northwest of Hangzhou. Its roads flank the lake from the south and the north to enter. Exiting the south from Xiguan, one turns past Chi Shan and traverses Mailing and Yanzhi. Exiting the north from Qiantang Gate, one climbs the Qin Emperor’s Boat-Mooring Stone, passes the two hills of Qinwang and Qingting, and as one approaches the foot of Tuoxian Ridge, one turns left, enters Lord Yuan’s Pine Gate, and reaches the Xingchun Bridge. West of the bridge connects with the southern branch road. Proceeding nearly two li past Xingchun Bridge, the southern and northern roads converge; there are a few residents and inns where travelers may rest. Advancing two li further west, one enters the gate of the two temples, approaching the Hejian Bridge. Crossing the two bridges of Hejian and Longji, and going from Dan’ya and the Ziwei Pavilion along the Shimen Torrent toward the Lengquan Pavilion, one arrives at Lingyin Temple. The flowing water is crystal-clear, and the cliff rocks stand around in uncanny forms as though carved and chiseled, bringing a sudden sense of refreshing clarity upon first sight. Turning south from Hejian Bridge, passing Qushui Pavilion and running along the newly diverted torrent up to the gate of Tianzhu Temple, looking west, the mountain peaks and ridges overlap and reflect one another, seeming boundless. Lingyin is a Chan community that began as a temple in the Jin dynasty; Tianzhu is an exegetical gathering that became a temple in the Sui dynasty. This mountain range rises in She, emerges through Mu, and converges at the southwest of Hangzhou, straddling Fuchun to the southwest and commanding Yuhang to the northwest. Winding and undulating, it stretches continuously for several hundred li. Upon reaching Wulin, it spreads open like outstretched left and right arms: hanging down to Yanzhi Ridge on the south and hanging down to Tuoxian Ridge on the north. Among its mountain peaks, the one rising to the north is called Gaofeng (High Peak); crowned with a soaring stupa and embracing Lingyin, it looms loftily. East of Gaofeng is Pingfeng Ridge (Screen Ridge). Further east is Xifeng (West Peak; located west of the prefecture). Still further east is Tuoxian Ridge (vulgarly called Tuowan, which is an error of speech). West of Gaofeng is Wufeng (Black Peak). Further west is Shisun (Stone Bamboo Shoot). Further west is Yangmei Shimen (Waxberry Stone Gate). Further west is Xiyuan (West Source; also called Xi’an, West Hermitage). The branch emerging to the right of Xiyuan is called Shiren (Stone Man). The peak rising in the south that appears lush and verdant when viewed is called Baiyuan (White Gibbon). Emerging on the left in front of Baiyuan is Xianglu (Censer). Moving further forward and descending to the torrent is Xingzheng. Emerging on the right in front of Baiyuan with its dense, cloudy woods is Yuegui (Moon Cassia). East of Baiyuan is Yanzhi Ridge. West of Baiyuan is Shizi (Lion). Further west is Wufeng (Five Peaks). Further west is Baiyun (White Cloud). Further west is Yinxi. South of Yinxi, extending forward and winding through the midst of Wulin, is Wu’ai (Unimpeded). Further forward is Shanzhu (Well-Abiding). Rising prominently beside Shanzhu is Jiliu (vulgarly called Jilong, which is an error of speech). West of Jiliu is Lianhua (Lotus); it has a crag called Yunü (Jade Maiden). East of Lianhua is Feilai Feng (Peak That Flew Here); this is what the extraordinary monk from the Western Regions, Huili, referred to when saying: 'This is a small peak of the Vulture Peak of my native country that has flown here.' Anciently, many spiritual immortals hid here, and he summoned the white gibbons to verify it. It screens Tianzhu on the south and shields Lingyin on the north. Its summit is bridged on the west by a natural stone causeway. Within it are crags and caves: the caves are called Longhong (Dragon Abyss) and Xianglin (Fragrant Grove); the crag is called Ligong (Lord [Hui]li). In front, Longhong looks down to the north, and in back it emerges to the east; it is said to bore invisibly through extraordinary realms, cutting under the Zhejiang River and passing beneath Wulin. As for those rising from the southern and northern ranges, the craggy heights number well over a hundred peaks, most of which are nameless; those that are named are only twenty-four. It is twelve li from the city wall, and its circumference is also twelve li. In the Qin and Han dynasties, it was first called Hulin (Tiger Grove) because white tigers lived there. In the Jin, it was called Lingyin, based on the story of the peak that flew here. In the Tang, it was called Wulin to observe a naming taboo. Some say that Qinglin Crag and Xianju Cave are also alternative names for Wulin. Its lofty, verdant, intricate beauty and pure, graceful atmosphere are unmatched by other mountains; yet in towering majesty and extreme height, it is altogether different from Mount Heng, Mount Lu, or Mount Luofu. In the eighth and ninth months, whenever the night clears and the moon shines bright, the mountain is showered with cassia seeds, shaped like Chinese parasol-tree seeds. The waters flowing south are called the Southern Torrent; those flowing north are called the Northern Torrent. From Hejian Bridge to the foot of Baiyun Peak, one crosses eight bridges in all: seven are stone, and one is wood. Along the Northern Torrent from Longji Bridge to the foot of Xiyuan Peak, one crosses seven bridges in all: four are stone, and three are clay and wood. The Southern Torrent originates at the foot of Baiyun Peak, pours east to meet other branch torrents, passes west of the eighth bridge, and pours east again; meeting the Xijia Torrent, it enters the newly diverted torrent, issues from the sluice gate, and meanders north to Hejian Bridge. The Northern Torrent originates in the belly of Mount Xiyuan, pours east past the mouth of Tengyun Ravine, closely approaches the mouth of Fengshu Ravine, surges swiftly under the fifth bridge, bathes the foot of Feilai Peak, gathers at West Ravine, ripples still at Xie’er Pool, collects at the eastern islet of Wozhu (also called Nuanquan, Warm Spring), glistens below Lengquan Pavilion, passes through the Huyuan Shimen Torrent, splashes turbulently at Fulonghong, passes under Longji Bridge, pours east, and together with the combined torrent pours further east for over two li, passes under Xingchun Bridge, issues from Lingyin Estuary, and enters Qiantang Lake. What the ancients referred to as 'The Qian Source spring issues from Mount Wulin' is indeed this. Although the southern and northern torrents are numerous, most are nameless; however, they all converge into these two torrents. Those that enter alongside the Southern Torrent are called the Southern Ravine (southern people call a valley a wu [ravine]; the character 谷 is pronounced yu). Those that enter alongside the Northern Torrent are called the Northern Ravine. To the north, there are further six branch ravines: Lingyin, Chaoyang, Baisha, Datong, Tengyun, and Xiyuan. All six ravines contain Buddhist sanctuaries: Lingyin, Biquan, Fa'an, Ziyan, Bianli, Wuzhuo, Wuliangshou, Dinghui, Yong'an, Mituo, Jixiang, and Xi'an. There are thirteen sanctuaries in all (one name is missing); ten are in the branch ravines, three are abandoned, and three are residences. South of the main ravine there are also branch ravines (some editions lack the word 'south'), all containing sanctuaries: Tianzhu, Xingsheng, and Chongshou are exegetical gatherings; Qingning, Yongqing, Jinfo, Decheng, Fuguang, and Tianzhu are Chan communities. Here the ancient Guanyin manifested her form to respond to human prayers for efficacy. [Another is] Yongning. The sanctuaries number ten in all; five are in the branch ravines, five are abandoned, and five are residences. In the main ravine and all the branch ravines, there are residents intermingled; their settlements almost form hamlets and country villas. Yet there are no steep terraced fields; the tilled land is not used to graze calves, sheep, or pigs; and the waters and lands are not heavily soiled. The people do not engage in netting, angling, trapping, or hunting, but take gathering firewood and tea as their livelihood. Thus, they conform to the ancient tradition of cleanliness, tranquility, and refined excellence, which has never been compromised. As for the terrain: in the Southern Ravine, it ends at the summit of Baiyun Peak; in the Northern Ravine, reaching Xiyuan, the slopes tilt west toward Xixi and connect south with Nandang. The springs issuing to the south are Yuegui, Fuxi, Danjing, Yongqing, Yanxong, Chongming, and Yixi: seven spring sources in all. One, Yuegui, is at Tianzhu Temple. One, Fuxi, is at the summit of Xilai Peak, though its flow is irregular. The other five are all in branch ravines. The springs issuing to the north are Lengquan, Taoguang, Baisha, Shisun, Baigong (Tea-brewing Well), Wuzhuo Yanxong, Yong'an Beiyuan, Mituo Xiyuan, and Tengyun Shangyuan (Xi'an): nine spring sources in all. One, Lengquan, is on the bank of the torrent; the other eight are in branch ravines. In the Southern Ravine, the traces left by ancients include: the Ge Ravine of Magistrate Ge of Wu (the proper character is avoided out of imperial temple taboo); the Cinnabar Well of Ge Hong of the Jin; the Scripture-Translation Terrace of Xie Lingyun of the Song; the Buddha-Relic Stupa marked by Zhenguan of the Sui; and the thatched cottage of the dhūta monk Daobiao of the Tang. In the Northern Ravine, there are: the Hall of Nine Masters of Lu Di of the Han; the Subdued Dragon Stone Gate of Ge Hong of the Jin; the Hall of Thinking upon the True of Xu Mai of the Jin; the Crag of Restful Solitude of Huili of the Jin; the Guest-Declining Pavilion of Du Shiming of the Jin; the Gibbon-Feeding Terrace of Zhiyi of the Song; the Gibbon-Calling Torrent; the stone statue recorded by Emperor Jianwen of the Liang; the Zhu Villa of Zhu Shiqing of the Liang; the Tea-Brewing Well of Bai Juyi of the Tang; and the Lord Yuan Pavilion of Yuan Renjing of the Tang. In the two ravines, there are sixteen sites in all; passed down by tradition through the ages, though their names survive, their histories are largely lost and cannot be verified and fully recorded. This mountain has no strange birds or monstrous beasts; only paper-mulberry trees count as the most ancient timber. Its pines, bamboos, medicinal herbs, and fruits are similar to those of other mountains; only its fine tea and the loquats and cassia flowers produced on this spiritual mountain emit a wondrous and extraordinary fragrance.

12.5

Record of a Excursion to Mount Nanping

12.6

Ascending about a hundred paces from the foot of the mountain, one turns east to arrive at Jiyun Pavilion. Turning west, one stoops down and passes through a small stone portal to reach Jicui Pavilion. Going further east from Jiyun Pavilion, one reaches Youju Grotto. East of the grotto are deep forests and lush grasses. Going further west from Jicui Pavilion, one enters amid clumps of bamboo, shaded and dense, so numerous they can hardly be counted. There are stone seats arrayed in a circle, accommodating about ten feet square. Winding upward to the west from Jicui Pavilion, one reaches Fayou Pavilion; looking toward the city walls of Qiantang, they appear as if in the palm of one's hand. Veering slightly east from Fayou Pavilion, one reaches Baiyun Pavilion. East of Baiyun Pavilion the path branches off: wherever one goes, one enters lush forests and tall bamboos, without knowing their end. Winding upward again from Fayou Pavilion, pulling oneself up by creepers and vines, scaling tiered cliffs, and treading precarious stone steps, one reaches the mountain summit. Looking around in all four directions, all is vast and open: the waters of the Wu River and the peaks of Yue stand clearly before one's eyes. The mountain dominates the western side of Fenghuang City, running south along the lake; it looks high upon Lingjiu and bows down toward Mount Xu. In general, from the foot to the summit, the boulders and crags are all extraordinary, in strange shapes and bizarre forms never found anywhere else in the world, resembling people, objects, birds, and beasts, flying, running, leaping, and vaulting. Often, when clouds and mists suddenly arise and interlace their shades, it truly seems as though spirits and ghosts were displaying their numinous powers, transforming in a myriad ways to dazzle one's mind and eyes. Some have heard that this mountain was originally abandoned amid wild overgrowth, so that not even woodcutters or herd boys cared to look at it, and people feared it could not even compare to mere mounds and ant-hills. One day, it became known to connoisseurs, who cleared and opened it up. When the people of Hangzhou came to view it, none failed to be startled and amazed, taking it to have fallen from heaven or welled up from the earth, all regretting only that they had discovered it so late. Sightseers consequently exalted it: though this mountain borders the lake, among thousands of crags and myriad ravines none surpasses it, to the point that its fame reached the capital, and worthy gentlemen and grandees all delighted in visiting it. Therefore, of those who come to Jiangdong, none considers their trip complete without visiting Mount Nanping. I then reflected that throughout the world in the four quarters, men of the Way who are obscured in the world and drift along with the vulgar—just like Nanping in the beginning—are surely many. Those who possess the Way must harbor extraordinary talent and unique virtue, standing preeminent above the crowd. If they meet an understanding patron who draws them forth and elevates them, employing them to assist the Way of the sages and to set a model for human relations, would that not be magnificent? How could viewing mere rocks and mountains compare to this? I am someone who is exceedingly fond of landscape. When I first saw Mount Nanping, I rejoiced and thought that a single visit would never satisfy my heart; it would be better to dwell in its shaded groves and constantly wander amid them. Thus this year I was pleased to come and rest my shoulders here. Every day I surely lean on my staff and go forth alone. When I arrive at its secluded spots, my thoughts become serene, and the aspirations of the realm become accessible. When I reach its spacious vantage points, my thoughts become transcendent, and the affairs of the realm become visible. When I reach its deepest and most tranquil recesses, in desolate quiet and profound stillness, my spirit merges with the Way; riding upon the vast breath and bathed in the pure wind, intoxicated and detached as if at the very beginning of the myriad things. For this reason I have recorded it, to show it to those in the future who may admire me and make this journey.

12.7

Explaining the Name of Duxiu Rock (the word "Name" is also written "Record")

12.8

After I named the rock Duxiu ("Solitary Elegance"), Zhang Biaomin considered the name inappropriate, evaluated it in verse, and renamed it Duguai ("Solitary Oddity"). Biaomin is skilled in writing, so his meaning must be profound. Yet I had never shared the meaning of my "Solitary Elegance" with others; hence I have occasion to discourse upon it. What the worldly call "odd rocks" must be those with bizarre and strange shapes resembling birds, beasts, figures, or objects. That is why they are called so. If that were the case, the rocks of Mount Ping fill the cliffs and overflow the ravines, none failing to resemble birds, beasts, figures, or objects; why then should only this single rock be called "odd"? Now, the Duxiu Rock rises several fathoms high, standing loftily and distinctly in the southeast corner of the mountain, dignified and upright, not following or leaning upon the other rocks, much like an upright person and righteous gentleman who embraces the Way, abides alone, and does not form cliques according to circumstances and power. Generally, when things are endowed with elegant qi in their generation, their establishment must be towering and stand out from their peers. What I call the "Duxiu Rock" means that it has gathered elegant qi and is able to stand on its own, not adhering to or relying on its kind. I wished for poets to sing of it to extol it, intending to provide a moral admonition. If one merely names it "odd rock," ordinary people could name it so themselves; why wait for an unworthy person like me to name it? If it cannot be helped, I beg to abide by "Duxiu Rock."

12.9

Record of the Revolving Wheel Great Canon at Chongshou Chan Cloister in Wuwei Commandery

12.10

The revolving wheel canon repository at the Chongshou Aranya was completed; because Master Yue of Tianzhu sent a letter, I therefore wrote this for it. According to his letter: Chongshou Cloister belongs administratively to Wuwei Commandery and is an elevated and dry site within the city. Formerly, the śramaṇa Yihuai preached the Dharma here, gathering disciples who cherished him. As the disciples became numerous and flourishing, yet scriptural teachings were lacking, they were grieved that there was nothing to study. Thereupon Zhang Gong of Qinghe was moved by this, and promptly led the people of his town to contribute wealth and gather craftsmen, planning to copy the teachings of the Tripiṭaka of the former Buddhas. But Master Huai, having received another assignment, departed; after his departure, Master Jingyin was ordered to succeed him. Zhang Gong then further joined with monks of the cloister such as Ciyuan, joining forces to ensure the endeavor's success. Later, Master Yin again dispatched the monk Churen and others to hire master artisans to build a revolving wheel repository to house the scriptures. The repository has a hall, and the hall is surrounded by various rooms, totaling several bays. Inside are placed Buddha statues and Dharma utensils; shimmering in gold and jade-green, all are stately and admirable to behold. The expenditure totaled seven million coins. Now, the revolving wheel repository was not an institution established by the Buddha; it was initiated by the Liang dynasty's extraordinary man, the Great Being Fu Xi, who truly drew upon the meaning of turning the wheel of the Dharma. His intention was that everyone might participate in the Dharma. The Dharma is the great root of all living beings and the marvelous Way of all Buddhas. By it, all Buddhas are greatly enlightened; through [lack of] it, the multitude of beings are greatly benighted. The sages and worthies therefore extend their own illumination to correct the benightedness of others. Thus what the Tripiṭaka illustrates is illustrated here; what the five vehicles return to returns here. Yet its principles are subtle and obscure, and its meanings are vast and broad, hardly something ordinary people can attain all at once. Therefore, the repository was enlarged and made into a wheel, temporarily allowing those who push the wheel and turn the repository to broadly and universally receive it, gradually being imbued with the Buddha Dharma and partaking in its supreme affinity; then would they not be close to the Way? This is also merely one means by which the perfect man gathers and transforms all living beings; its intention is far-reaching and great. Now Master Yin has followed and emulated this; is not his intention ultimate? It is worthy of being recorded. Recorded on the tenth day of the final month of summer in the third year of Zhihe [1056].

12.11

Record of the Thousand Buddhas Pavilion at Chongfu Chan Cloister in Zhangzhou

12.12

Cui, Vice Minister of Rites and Director of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, dispatched an envoy from Tongzhou to Hangzhou with a letter to me, saying: "The Chongfu Pavilion is completed; we admire Zhongling and wish for him to record it." At first I did not dare to do so, but on reflecting slowly, Lord Cui is a renowned grandee who once distributed my Fujiao bian in the imperial capital and has shown me great righteousness. Now he further entrusts me with another magnificent affair; how could it be right to decline? Thereupon I adumbrated the matter and recorded it. Chongfu is a great aranya in southern Zhangzhou, with an assembly constantly numbering five hundred, living together in peace and ease. They venerate the great bhikṣu Xianwei as their senior elder. Master Wei has overseen this area for five years, and the buildings, large and small, have all been completely repaired. Initially, there was a vacant lot to the east of his residence; Master Wei considered its scenic advantages suitable for erecting a Buddha pavilion, and thus consulted the local resident Wang Wenwo. Not long after, a visitor came and said: "The mountain waters have now risen greatly, completely floating down timbers that had long been stored and washing them up on the riverbank. This is sufficient to accomplish your task." Taking this as a responsive coincidence, Master Wei thereupon drew heavily from the temple funds, more than a million coins, and Wang Wenwo further donated 250,000 to assist it. More than thirty monks and laypeople of the prefecture assisted each other in encouraging the charitable of their neighborhoods to donate wealth, joining together to carve images of the Thousand Buddhas of the Worthy Kalpa and the Five Hundred Arhats, and to paint the Five Hundred Arhats. In the mid-winter of the jiawu year of Zhihe [1054], the masonry and carpentry work began, pressing forward vigorously day by day without a moment's pause. By the autumn of the following year, the pavilion was completed: towering over nine bays, rising into the sky and bridging the void, with soaring walkways and lofty kiosks rising and jutting out to the sides. When the sculpted images and painted work were completed, they were welcomed and enshrined within. Śākyamuni, Maitreya, and Bhaiṣajyaguru occupy the center, while the Thousand Tathāgatas are arrayed in front, behind, left, and right. Below the pavilion, statues of the holy assembly—Śākyamuni, Mañjuśrī, and Samantabhadra—occupy the center, while the Five Hundred Arhats and Sixteen Great Śrāvakas are arranged in the four directions. In the early Jiayou era, a man from Longyan named Yang Shi further constructed a great arhat hall south of the pavilion, surrounded by a bathhouse and covered corridors, completely preparing it for Dharma services. Its scale was magnificent and splendid; the people of Min admired it, calling it the crown of towers and pavilions in our Min. As for the Thousand Tathāgatas of the Worthy Kalpa, they appear successively before and after our Śākyamuni Buddha in the human world during this kalpa, forging vast, magnificent, and supreme affinities with heaven, earth, all spirits, and myriad beings. When the sages bestow images upon the world and future generations, they certainly wish that humans and gods may observe the images to realize the imageless nature; next, they wish that by seeing the images they may arouse their wholesome minds; and next, they wish that by gazing upon the images they may partake in their supreme affinities. Realizing the imageless nature comes close to the ultimate; arousing the wholesome mind turns toward the Way; partaking in supreme affinities gradually advances toward superior goodness. Though these three differ slightly in their efficacy, in bringing about virtue in their present age and future generations, they are one and the same. Lord Cui's letter states: "Master Wei is a person of noble conduct who can join with others in worthy deeds, and people all gladly follow him." I marvel that his intention in building the Buddha pavilion precisely tallies with what is meant by the sages bestowing images; thus what Lord Cui praised is verified. People of the south should know his heart, and not say that Master Wei merely engaged in civil engineering to boast over the vulgar world. Those later followers wearing monk's robes who undertake endeavors should also look to Wei as a model. Recorded on the last day of the first month of autumn in the jiyou year of Jiayou [1059], at the Yong'an Mountain Hermitage of Lingyin.

12.13

Inscription for the Twin Pavilions of Letan (with Preface)

12.14

The Grand Elder Xiaoyue, courtesy name Gonghui, has led the practitioners of Chan at Letan for fifteen years now. His Dao having been transmitted, he further wished to repair his monastic lodge. His disciple Jujin thereupon, in accordance with the master's intent, encouraged his fellow villagers to collect funds to erect a pavilion on the left of the monastery courtyard, with the monastery also contributing wealth to assist. He further exhorted virtuous women of the Lü clan, Lady Hu and Lady Zou, who donated one hundred thousand cash to erect a pavilion on the right of the courtyard. On the right was placed an image of Maitreya; on the left was hung a bell cast by the bell-founder. They also polished dense flagstones to make an elevated walkway (differing in meaning from the elevated walkway in the Rites of Zhou) before the pavilions for over ten paces, spending altogether more than five hundred thousand in stringed cash. In the mid-spring of the gengzi year of the Jiayou reign [1060], the work was completed, and the painting was finished. Jujin then, on the basis of his master's written request, asked me for a text to record it. Now Gonghui and I have always possessed the deepest mutual respect and cordial friendship, and as for Gonghui's intention in making these pavilions, I well understand it: Gonghui's mind is on the Dao, not on the pavilions; the pavilions merely lodge his intent. In entering the Dao, nothing takes precedence over seeing and hearing. Now, as for his providing one pavilion with an image: this is to rectify what people see. As for his providing the other pavilion with a bell: this is to stimulate what people hear. He desires that upon seeing they will become clear and subtle, and upon hearing they will awaken at once, not resting upon spoken words, not relying on letters, but standing alone and attaining directly, in harmony with the ancestral lineage transmitted outside the teachings. Such indeed is Gonghui's intention. Were it not so, how could our Gonghui be willing to engage in mere masonry and carpentry? The mountain and waters of Letan are pure and splendid; they are the site of the legacy of the former great Chan worthy Daoyi, Grandmaster Ma. As for Master Yi's Dao, within the teachings of the Buddhist school it is the supreme culmination. In residing here, Gonghui has undertaken achievements, and furthermore has been able to extend the Dao to others; with respect to Master Yi, he has truly brought about a revival! And as for the blessings and superior benefits brought to the donors, how could they be measured? How fine is Gonghui! Moreover, he has extensively studied the books of the worldly sages and his understanding is refined and thorough; among today's Chan practitioners he is particularly outstanding and heroic. Therefore, on account of his pavilions, I compose this. The inscription reads:

12.15

In one pavilion resounds the bell, / In the other pavilion stands the image. / The image rectifies your vision, / The bell stimulates your hearing. / Only through seeing and hearing / Is your nature rectified. / Do not say the Dao is far away: / It lies within a single blink. / Do not say the Sage is far away: / It lies in this stirring of yours. / The pavilions and the trees / Are where my purpose lodges. / The bell and the image / Are your spiritual encouragement. / Oh, you students, / You should know your master's intent! / Be prudent with your seeing and hearing, / Do not say this was done in vain.

12.16

Inscription for the Pure Veranda (with Preface)

12.17

The Superior Man Gaoshi opened up the southern corridor of his lodge, taking in completely the fine scenery of mountains and streams, brilliant and delighting the eye. Su Zimei of Wugong first named it the Pure Veranda. Thereafter, worthy literati often visited, enjoyed, and composed poems on it. The Superior Man, in accordance with their intent, then bade Qianzi to compose an inscription for it. Being unable to decline, I said to the Superior Man: 'Among all things between heaven and earth, there is nothing that lacks clarity and turbidity; their atmospheres can all influence humanity to order or to chaos. The clarity of heaven and earth influences people to reverent awe; the clarity of sages and worthies influences people to solemn gravity; the clarity of an era influences people to self-cultivation; the clarity of mountains and streams influences people to refreshing ease. As for the clarity of heaven and earth and of the era, it is the creative transformation of nature, which I cannot presume to assess; as for the clarity of sages, worthies, mountains, and streams, this can be extended to benefit the world. Now the Superior Man has opened this veranda, bringing together the stillness of the mountain and the clarity of the water to welcome future visitors and delight them: their minds will be opened and their spirits refreshed, and their thoughts will no longer linger in indulgence; this also benefits people greatly! Should anyone have their mind and spirit refreshed and think of returning to Great Purity and utmost stillness (or: wander in utmost stillness), then the purpose of creating the veranda will be all the more realized.' Qianzi thereupon inscribed it, saying:

12.18

All phenomena between heaven and earth / Possess both turbidity and purity. / When purity alone moves people, / People become upright. / When turbidity alone moves people, / People fall into disorder. / Only through purity and uprightness / Do you cultivate your virtue; / Only through turbidity and disorder / Do you nurture your vices. / Reflect on this, O gentlemen: / Choose where you dwell in your time! / Be cautious, O gentlemen: / Be prudent in what you enjoy in your time! / Your veranda is bright; / Your scenery is pure. / There are lofty mountains, / By which feelings can be unfolded; / There are glistening waters, / In which hat-strings can be washed. / Once your intention is cleansed, / Once your spirit is purified, / Only purity and cleanliness / Constitute supreme ease. / Do not deem the veranda humble, / For here is fine appreciation; / Do not dismiss it as external things, / For here is spiritual encouragement. / Purity and the veranda / Are what the Dao avails itself of. / Capable of diligent purpose: / That is the Superior Man! (In the original collection the name was not recorded, which is questionable; here referring to him as Gaoshi merely lodges an intended meaning.)

12.19

Inscription for the South Veranda (with Preface)

12.20

The South Veranda is situated directly north of Mount Nanping, and the mountain is only a few hundred paces away. Leaning on the veranda to look out, not the finest autumn hair of the grasses, trees, clouds, and creatures is concealed. When the rain clears, the mountain light shines fresh and emerald, illuminating the pillow and mats. In summer, the gentle breeze wafts freely, coming on its own without being drawn in. In winter, it squarely catches the sun, overcoming the biting cold. A guest with ample leisure and uncommitted time, of no use to the world, can spend all day resting and contemplating amidst it; often his bosom becomes open and expansive and his spiritual energy vast and free, as if standing alone outside heaven and earth. Among the discerning of antiquity, who did not value finding an agreeable dwelling? If one can only rectify one's thoughts so that good fortune, misfortune, remorse, and humiliation do not harm the Dao, then even a thatched roof and earthen steps are not considered humble. Tao Yuanming said: 'Whistling proudly beneath the eastern veranda, / I can manage to pass this life.' How is this not finding an agreeable dwelling? The South Veranda constitutes the rear pillars of my lodging. Master Wei, not taking me to be unworthy, accommodated me here. When matters arose and I was about to depart, I considered how the South Veranda sustained my utter foolishness, seemingly providing an agreeable dwelling; even if the host had subjected me to menial tasks, I would still have hastened to obey his commands—how much more so when he graciously received me with virtue and righteousness? How then could I lightly part from the South Veranda? The inscription reads:

12.21

Looking upon the South Veranda, what is it like? / Lying down, looking up, pacing and lingering. / I bring forth its beauty; / It suits my foolishness. / The South Veranda and I depend on each other.

12.22

Inscription for an Old Inkstone (with Preface)

12.23

When I was in my native place, my deceased friend, the Daoist Ma Zhizhang, brought out a Duanxi inkstone to present to me as a gift. When I traveled through the four quarters, the inkstone went with me; it has been fourteen years now. Zhizhang unfortunately died young. Alas! Zhizhang as a person was trustworthy and righteous, fond of learning, upright and pure, dedicated to upholding lofty integrity. Before his aspirations were realized, Heaven robbed him of his lifespan. Looking at the inkstone, I often seem to see the man; therefore I have kept it and never discarded it. This is the final month of winter in the first year of the Kangding reign [early 1041]. I compose an inscription for it, saying:

12.24

That man has passed away; / Our friendship in the Dao has ended. / With a heart like metal and stone, / I look upon this and treasure this.

12.25

Inscribed on the Wall of the Superior Man Quan's Lotus Fragrance Pavilion at West Lake in Qiantang

12.26

The atmosphere of West Lake cannot be compared to other places: morning radiance and evening mists, shadowy and clear-glistening, never failing to be fine. Mountain ridges and storied pavilions intertwine in gold and emerald to dazzle the eyes. Lotus flowers tussle with the wind, their fragrance scattering in all four directions; fragrant and gentle, a momentary glance makes one feel as if in an otherworldly realm. However, whether the human mind is pure or turbid responds to external things in just this way; how could a practitioner of the Dao fail to choose where he dwells? The Superior Man Quan intones sutras, chants poems, practices the cursive calligraphy of sages, and has opened up the Lotus Fragrance Pavilion, utilizing the lake scenery to assist his pure mind. His aspiration to admire the Dao can well be seen! Inscribed by Qianzi on the twenty-fifth day of the last month of winter in the jiyou year of the Xining reign [early 1070].

12.27

Stele for Wenzhongzi

12.28

To trace the origin of goodness under heaven: it resides in the Dao of the sages. Further, the ordering of the world resides in the talent of the sages. If one has the talent but lacks the Dao, teaching will not reach transformation; if one has the Dao but lacks the talent, transformation will not reach teaching. Yao and Shun were those who attained the Dao of the sages; Yu, Tang, Wen, Wu, and the Duke of Zhou were those who attained the talent of the sages. Combining both of these was attained in the sage Confucius, Zhongni; therefore it is said: 'The Master is far worthier than Yao and Shun.' Over a hundred years after Zhongni's death, Meng Ke arose; though he did not equal Zhongni, he enlightened people to Zhongni. After Meng Ke's death, Xun Qingzi arose; after Xun Qing's death, Yang Ziyun succeeded him; Xun and Yang assisted Zhongni. Their teachings were specialized, but their Dao was not unified; Master Meng was next to him. Over a thousand years after Zhongni, born between the Chen and Sui dynasties, was the one styled Wenzhongzi. At first he explored the ruler's intent with twelve strategies; seeing that nothing could be done, he rolled them up and kept them in his bosom, returning to the north of the Fen River to vigorously revive his teachings. With a single strike of thunder, the four seas sought his sound; those who came numbered three thousand disciples, resembling Zhongni. At that time, the realm had lost the Dao; the feudatories, ministers, and grandees could not cultivate it. Only Wenzhongzi acted invariably in accordance with propriety, dedicated to rectifying people and saving creatures. He once said: 'When the realm possesses the Dao, the sage remains hidden; when the realm lacks the Dao, the sage becomes manifest.' Returning to the One without a trace: is this not hiding? Relying on the dual to effect salvation: can this not be manifest? Formerly, the governance of the Two Emperors and Three Kings was correct, but was not recorded; the governance of the feudatories and Five Hegemons was flawed, but was not distinguished. Zhongni formulated them into the Six Classics to provide instruction and transformation for later generations. Afterward, the Two Han dynasties possessed the realm, mixing kingly and hegemonic governance; as for what was correct in their governance, it was exceedingly rare. From the Three Kingdoms of Wei down to the Northern and Southern Dynasties, all was in confusion and human morality was lost to the utmost. What has passed cannot be retrieved, but what is to come can still be rectified. The Dao of the former kings was rich and fertile, but was about to suffer injury and darkening in the earth. Wenzhongzi grieved that later generations would have no model, and moreover said: 'A thousand years hence, should anyone master the enterprise of Zhongni, I cannot yield to them.' He indeed gathered the governance of the Han, Wei, and Six Dynasties, formulating them into the Continued Classics, to broaden instruction and transformation for later generations. Without the Dao of the sages and the talent of the sages, who could partake in this? Wenzhongzi's relation to Zhongni is like the moon to the sun. When the Tang arose, they obtained his disciples, who unfolded Wenzhongzi's classics to govern the realm; the realm thereupon attained rectitude, its rites, music, and institutions illustrious, rivaling the glory of the Three Dynasties for four hundred years! Alas! When Zhongni passed away, several hundred years later his teaching suffered calamity under the Qin, and those of his disciples who practiced his teaching and took office were merely ministers to feudal states; but Wenzhongzi's disciples became chief councilors and generals to the Son of Heaven, and his teachings have spread down to the present—how magnificent! His lofty manifestation and far-reaching transcendence were like this. Did Heaven perhaps lend the virtue of Zhongni to Wenzhongzi? I cannot know. Reading the genealogical house of the Wang clan, I admire what Wenzhongzi attained—how great it was! Therefore the stele inscription says: / After the Six Classics, / The Dao of governance was not refined. / The great human relationships fell into disorder; / Expediency and cunning flourished. / Wenzhong arose, / And the collapsing waves were made clear. / The Six Classics were continued, / And the realm was transformed and perfected. / Confucius was like the sun; / Wenzhong added his light. / Extending through myriad generations, / Nothing can compare with him.

12.29

Detailed Record of the Conduct of the Late Great Dharma Master Ciyun, Master Shi, of Tianzhu Monastery on Mount Wulin in Hangzhou

12.30

The Dharma Master's taboo name was Zunshi and his style name was Zhibai. His original surname was Ye, and he was a native of Ninghai in Linhai commandery. At first, his mother, the elder woman Wang, prayed for spiritual efficacy before an ancient image of Avalokiteśvara, seeking a male child. One night she dreamed that her house was pure and radiant, and a beautiful woman handed her a bright pearl, bidding her swallow it. When she gave birth to the Dharma Master, at merely seven months of age he was already able to follow his mother in invoking Avalokiteśvara. Growing older, he took no pleasure in engaging in commerce with his elder brother, and thereupon went secretly to Dongye to become a monk under Master Yiquan. The night before, Yiquan had dreamed that a young boy was standing to the left of the Buddha statue in his temple. The next day, when the Dharma Master arrived, the dream proved true. At eighteen he shaved his hair. At twenty he received the precepts at Zhanlin Temple. The following year he studied the Vinaya under Vinaya Master Shouchu. At that time, the prefectural academy of Tiantai was flourishing; because the Dharma Master was talented and articulate, the scholars repeatedly invited him with poems to pursue Confucianism. The Dharma Master promptly composed a poem in reply, which said in part: 'True emptiness is the examination hall; / Great Awakening is the official rank.' Later, he entered Guoqing [Temple] and burned his fingers before the statue of Samantabhadra, vowing to study the teachings of the Tiantai school. Gradually shouldering his book-pack, he hastened to the lecture seat of Great Master Baoyun Yitong. On the way he dreamed of an old monk who called himself 'the monk Mañjuśrī.' When he met Yitong, it was indeed the monk of his dream. He immediately took him to heart, faced north, and received his teaching. Before long, of all that was transmitted by the Tiantai school, the subtle words and profound tenets were completely mastered by the Dharma Master. His wisdom and understanding stood out prominently above his peers. On the anniversary of the passing of the ancestral master Zhiyi, he personally burned his crown, vowing all day with resolve to practice the four samādhis. He then spoke a verse to demonstrate his sincerity. (All his poems and verses appear in his collected writings and are generally omitted here.) After Master Yitong passed away, the Dharma Master returned to Tiantai. From arduous study he fell ill and coughed blood, believing he would surely die. Resolutely he entered the Buddha hall at Lingxu, using the dhāraṇī method for dispelling and subduing [afflictions], and made an oath, saying: 'If the flourishing and propagation of the Four Teachings depends on me, then may this illness be cured; if not, I wish to end my life here.' On the evening of the third week, he suddenly heard a call from the sky: 'Zunshi will die before long!' The Dharma Master became even more unflagging. By the fifth week, he suddenly saw dead corpses filling the room; undefiled by doubt, the Dharma Master trod upon them to practice the path, and the corpses vanished at once. On the forty-ninth day, when the repentance was completed, he again heard a voice from the sky say: 'The Buddhas of the ten directions have increased your blessings and lifespan.' That night, in deep sleep and trance, he saw a giant holding a vajra pestle aimed at his mouth. Startled, he awoke, and his illness was cured. His brilliant eloquence grew even more, and his voice, appearance, and vitality were more radiant than usual. Deeply moved, the Dharma Master wished all the more to devote himself to this practice, and thereupon wrote a book titled Guanliwen (Avalokiteśvara Liturgy). Just as he put brush to paper, an extraordinary monk suddenly presented him with a book whose title and purport were largely identical to what he had written. In the beginning of the Chunhua era, when the Dharma Master was merely twenty-eight, the assembly requested that he succeed to the lecture seat of his master at Baoyun. He lectured on the four great sūtras (the Lotus, Vimalakīrti, Nirvāṇa, and Suvarṇaprabhāsa sūtras) for consecutive years. One day, a pregnant donkey belonging to a certain Shi family galloped over and prostrated itself beneath his seat, appearing to listen attentively. Thereafter it came according to the schedule for forty days, stopping only after giving birth. That a donkey truly had the mind of a human—is it not extraordinary? In the bingshen year of the Zhidao era, the Dharma Master brought together faithful lay and monastic followers, and based on the sūtras they cultivated the practices of the Pure Land. He wrote a book titled Shisheng xifang ji (Record of the Vow to be Born in the West). Moreover, following Samantabhadra, he further cultivated the mindfulness-of-Buddha samādhi. The master remained at Baoyun for another twelve years, never presenting calling cards to socialize with laymen. Rejoicing that he had received the unseen assistance of Avalokiteśvara, he commissioned craftsmen to make a statue of the Great Compassionate One out of sandalwood, carved an image of himself, and carried it [upon his head]. He further composed the text of the Fourteen Great Vows. Later, an artisan accidentally broke the willow branch held by the statue. Respectful and alarmed, the Dharma Master personally joined it back together; without relying on glue, it fit snugly as before. In the third year of the Xianping era, a great drought struck Siming commandery. The commandery people relied on him for rain. The Dharma Master practiced the Avalokiteśvara Samādhi and made a secret pact: if it did not rain within three days, he would burn himself. At the appointed time it indeed rained and the commandery was revived. The prefect considered it extraordinary and had the event inscribed on a stele. In the fifth year of the Xianping era, the Dharma Master returned to Tiantai. He wished to retire into seclusion in the east, but his followers became ever more numerous. Thereupon, at its western spur, he further expanded his vihāra, constructed a large statue of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life based on the sūtras, led the assembly in practicing the mindfulness-of-Buddha samādhi, and wrote an exposition on the ritual procedures of the Pure Land. In that district there had previously been unchaste shrines; he corrected them according to ancient standards and removed those where improper sacrifices were offered. Regarding what was called the White Crane Temple, the populace deemed it especially divine and vied to make sacrifices with livestock. The Dharma Master admonished the people, causing them to change their bloody offerings to vegetarian ones. When he traveled by boat with the assembly to the White Crane [Temple], a violent wind and waves suddenly arose. The crowd thought it was caused by the spirit. The Dharma Master immediately turned toward the temple and explained the Buddha's reasons for prohibiting killing, whereupon the waves at once subsided. He soon bade the spirit receive the Buddhist precepts; thereafter, sacrifices with livestock were completely brought to an end. He then wrote the Yemiaozhi (Record of the Rustic Shrine) to establish a covenant with the spirit, which the people adhere to down to the present. In the fourth year of the Daxiangfu era, Duke Zhang of Xun happened to govern the commandery as a ministry official. As the monks' summer retreat arrived, he ordered the monastic rector to invite the Dharma Master to the Jingde Vihāra in the commandery to lecture on the Great Calming and Contemplation. When the summer retreat concluded, three monks clad in patched robes arrived without prior cause, requesting to join the Ullambana lecture seat; just as they bowed and sat down, they suddenly disappeared. The Dharma Master once went elsewhere on auspicious business, his route passing through Huangyan. A pig came running, circled the Dharma Master's mount, and then prostrated itself before him, appearing to plead for help. The crowd gasped, unable to fathom why; upon investigating, they found the pig was fleeing the slaughterhouse. Thereupon he reimbursed its price, instructed the butcher to release it, and ordered it to be reared at Miaoxi Temple, naming it 'Encountering the Good.' If even a pig can truly partake of virtue, how much more so humans! In Tiantai there was the Chishan Temple, lofty, bright, and bordering the sea. The Dharma Master once said to people: 'This place is suitable for building a pagoda.' All the local people were glad to hear this, and said: 'At the peak of this mountain there is often an extraordinary light illuminating the sea; within the light, the shadow of a seven-tiered stupa can be clearly seen. Yet where its illumination reaches for forty li, all are fish weirs and nets placed all around by fishermen.' Knowing that the manifestation of light was meant as an admonition, the Dharma Master urged the crowd to respond to it. When they excavated the soil at the site, they indeed obtained a stone casket as a verification. The pagoda was completed, also with seven tiers, fulfilling the prior omen, and the local people fished no more. While the Dharma Master was practicing a hundred-day repentance on Mount Dongye, a great drought happened to occur and there was not enough water for use. He then went outside his dwelling to observe, and presently struck the ground with his monk's staff. A stone spring gushed forth, which is what is now called the Stone-Eye Spring of Dongye. Initially, the people of Hangzhou wished to invite the Dharma Master to cross westward to preach the Dharma, but although messengers came and went over seven years, he never consented. It was only when Qiyi of Zhaoging led the assembly to repeat the invitation that he finally came. By that time, twelve years had already passed. Prior to this, the Dharma Master had dreamed of remaining in his mother's womb for twelve years; calculating his departure from Tiantai and entry into Hangzhou, it was the fulfillment of that dream. Upon arriving in Hangzhou, he first stayed at Zhaoqing Temple to lecture and greatly propagate the doctrine. Scholars looked up to him eagerly, streaming in like water flowing into a marsh. By local custom in Hangzhou, people were accustomed to gathering for funerals with wine and meat. The Dharma Master specifically used auspicious circumstances to instruct them, and the customs were completely transformed; they all changed from meat to vegetarian fare. He thereupon composed an essay titled Jie jiurou cihui famen (Compassionate and Wise Dharma Gate of Admonishing Against Wine and Meat) to rectify the practice. The people still esteem it to this day. The following year, the people of Suzhou welcomed the Dharma Master to Kaiyuan Monastery with official credentials from their prefecture, where he lectured continuously day and night. An abundant crowd of lay and monastic listeners gathered, said to number ten thousand by day and a thousand by night. Those among the people who refrained from drinking wine and eating meat nearly emptied the walled city and its suburbs, so that the wine officials and slaughterhouses could hardly find buyers. He then said to his disciples: 'My ancestral master Zhiyi left a letter to the Prince of Jin with six regrets; one of them was precisely that gathering the multitude for the Dharma stirred people and hindered official business, becoming a source of trouble. My virtue is slight today; how can I long sustain this assembly and not depart?' Thereupon he decisively returned to Hangzhou. It was the yimao year of the Xiangfu era. Prefect Duke Xue Yan immediately assigned him to reside at the Lingshan Vihāra. The Dharma Master had previously delighted in its scenic beauty and had already had the intention of retiring there; this now fulfilled his long-cherished wish. That place was Tianzhu Temple, established by the eminent Sui monk Zhenguan; through the Tang dynasty, Daobiao had succeeded to it. However, over more than four hundred years since the Sui and Tang, the traces left by Master Zhenguan had fallen into ruin and were scarcely visible. The Dharma Master investigated among the overgrown wilderness based on old records, and indeed found its vestiges. He immediately composed a poem and made a stele to record it. This was the beginning of the plan to restore Tianzhu. Originally, to the west of the temple, there was a juniper planted during the Sui dynasty; only a withered stump remained, but at this point it flourished anew. This was indeed a sign of the temple's reconstruction. He therefore named it the 'Re-flourishing Juniper.' Adding to this the plum tree on the rock at the mouth of the Fragrant Forest Cave, the bamboo within the mountain's core, and the stone-faced bamboo, these together with the juniper became the Four Auspicious Signs of Tianzhu. He composed four poems to commemorate their extraordinary beauty. Not long after he took up residence, incoming students became even more numerous. Thereupon, to the east of the temple, he built the Riguan Hermitage, compiled the Tianzhu gaoseng zhuan (Biographies of Eminent Monks of Tianzhu), and supplemented Master Zhiyi's expositions on the methods of samādhi practice to guide scholars. In the ninth year of the Xiangfu era, Huisi, the monastic rector of Tiantai, went to the capital and submitted his name in a memorial; he was thereupon bestowed a purple robe. Soon afterward, he was again invited to lecture at Shouchang Temple. When the lectures ended, he passed by his old Dongye and said to his disciples: 'Lingshan is the place where I have divined my end. When my preparations are complete, I must return there.' Shortly thereafter, he took up a brush and inscribed a long ballad on the wall to bid farewell to Dongye and return to Tianzhu. Whenever the summer retreat arrived, he would encourage his disciples to join him in practicing the Suvarṇaprabhāsa Repentance ritual, setting a course of seven days and nights each year. In his old age, Grand Protector Duke Ma venerated the Buddha even more and especially admired the Dharma Master's words; the master thereupon composed for him the Jingtu jueyi lun (Treatise Resolving Doubts on the Pure Land). Duke Ma had it carved on blocks and circulated. When Duke Wang Wenmu retired from the grand council and governed Hangzhou, he heard of his noble reputation and asked to meet him at the prefectural office through Li of Mingzhou. Having met him, Duke Wang marveled at him; within a few days, he led his subordinates to visit the Dharma Master in the mountains. He immediately asked him to lecture, whereupon he expounded the profound meanings of the Three Dharmas of the Lotus Sūtra. His talent and eloquence flowed clearly, capturing the attention of the officials. Duke Wang said: 'This is something I have never heard before!' The master then cited the Tiantai teachings from beginning to end, wishing him to praise and propagate them. Duke Wang assented. Soon he memorialized the throne to restore his temple and obtained the bestowed name of Tianzhu. Duke Wang inscribed its plaque, honoring the imperial command. When Duke Wang first memorialized to make the West Lake a life-release pond, it was also because the Dharma Master moved him through persuasion based on Master Zhiyi's intention of protecting life. Later, when Duke Wang went out to govern Yingtian, he was slightly ill; he dreamed of meeting the master, and his illness was immediately cured. He then sent him a letter speaking of the matter at length, considering that their encountering each other in this life was due to an auspicious karmic affinity. When he was transferred to Jiangning, he again welcomed him to his official residence, questioning him on the Dharma and detaining him for nearly three months. Duke Wang initially wished to make a statue of Sangha, but hesitated and did not complete it. The Dharma Master thereupon explained for him how Avalokiteśvara manifests responses and possesses universal knowledge without limitation. Prior to this, the Dharma Master had dreamed of being inside a Buddhist pagoda with Duke Wang, where an old monk split a golden bell and divided it between the two of them. He further recounted this to verify their recent discussion. Duke Wang said: 'This truly refers to Jinling!' Having completed the statue, he ultimately presented it to the Dharma Master, who thereupon composed the Sizhou dasheng liwen (Liturgy for the Great Sage of Sizhou) to honor the occasion. Duke Wang and his wife, the Lady of Qin, further donated more than six million cash to construct the great hall of the temple. The Dharma Master, considering that the restoration of the temple was owed to the imperial court and to Duke Wang, felt particularly grateful; he thereupon newly compiled the Tiantai Four-Season Liturgies to the Buddha and urged his disciples to practice them, wishing thereby to repay this kindness. On the occasion of the Qianyuan Festival, Duke Wang reported his virtue to the throne, and he was subsequently bestowed the title 'Ciyun' (Cloud of Compassion). From then on, their friendship beyond the mundane realm grew even closer, frequently expressed in poems and letters. Works such as his commentary to the diagram on the contemplation of the ten Dharma realms according to the perfect and sudden teaching, and his verse on the mind-essential of Master Si of Nanyue, were all composed for Duke Wang. During the Tiansheng era, the Duke ultimately submitted a memorial ensuring that the Tiantai textual corpus was included in the Tripitaka; that the Tiantai school was transmitted to the north was largely due to the efforts of the Dharma Master and Duke Wenmu. Earlier, during the Qianxing era, Empress Dowager Zhangxian, on account of the Dharma Master's refined devotion in practice, specially sent an envoy bearing gold and silk, commanding him twice to perform repentances for the state in the mountains. He thereupon composed the Huguo daochang zhi yi (Ritual for the State-Protecting Bodhimaṇḍa) and submitted it, requesting that it enter the Tripitaka along with his school's texts. At the beginning of the Tiansheng era, Palace Eunuch Yang Huaiji was sent on an embassy to the east and further bestowed frankincense upon him. When taking leave, Yang, knowing that the Dharma Master excelled in calligraphy, asked for a specimen of his brushwork; the master immediately wrote out a poem and gave it to him. Yang subsequently reported this in a memorial. The following year, an imperial gift of one hundred ounces of silver was again bestowed to feed a thousand monks in the mountains. Furthermore, among the court officials of the time who heard of his fame and rejoiced in his auspicious karmic affinity were Duke Qian Wenxi, Duke Yang Wen, Duke Zhang of Xun, and many other ministers; lest naming them all be inappropriate, they are not recorded in detail. The Dharma Master was refined and elegant in his literary compositions, possessing the style of a poet. His writings include the Jinyuan ji (Golden Garden Collection), while his separate collection from Tianzhu is called the Lingyuan ji (Efficacy Garden Collection). Yet in his pure and arduous practice, he repeatedly burned his fingers, so that only one or two remained. When he held a brush for calligraphy, his exquisite mastery captured the style of Zhong Yao and Wang Xizhi. On an autumn day after the rain cleared on Lingshan, cassia seeds once rained down from the sky; the Dharma Master then composed a poem titled 'Sowing Cassia from Cassia Seeds.' When Minister Duke Hu saw it, he praised it greatly, and joined Duke Qian Wenxi in writing matching verses. When Duke Hu governed Qiantang commandery, he further donated gold to construct the three front gates of the temple. Having presided over the temple for a long time, the Dharma Master once wished to step down, but Prefect Duke Li Zi gathered the people of the commandery and earnestly pleaded with him to remain for another two years. In the first month of spring in the ninth year of the Tiansheng era, while lecturing on the Vimalakīrti Sūtra, he soon turned to his disciples and said: 'Formerly, when I was at Dongye, I also lectured on this sūtra. I once dreamed that the Venerable Jingxi handed me the rolls of this sūtra in a room, and when I went out to look, the sun had already set. Today, my life will likely end with this lecture.' One day, he indeed took leave of the assembly, saying: 'I have resided at the two temples of Tiantai and Hangzhou for nearly forty years. I have always acted with the universal intention of the ten directions, not making it my business to transmit it privately. Now as I hand over the lecture seat, you should follow my will.' He then instructed his senior disciple Zushao, saying: 'You shall succeed to my path. I hold this censer and fly-whisk; do not become one who at last severs the seed of the Buddha! You should exert yourself.' He then composed a poem on 'Relinquishing the Three Affinities' (referring to renouncing disciples, guests/friends, and brush and inkstone), instructing his students to carve it on stone to display it. On the twenty-eighth day of the eighth month in autumn, he entered the thatched cottage on the eastern ridge of the temple all alone to conceal his traces. On the eighth day of the tenth month of the following year, he manifested a slight illness and took no more medicine. He ordered that the poem he had once written matching that of Liu Yimin of the Jin on concealing one's traces be brought out, and altered its concluding line to say: 'Soaring into the void, traces vanish of themselves; / It is not a matter of the green, green mountains.' He had it engraved on a cliff. On the evening of the next day, he said again: 'My karmic retribution must now come to an end; how would I dare forget to leave instructions for you all?' He further expounded the Dharma to exhort his followers. When evening came on the following day, he had them request an image of Amitābha to rectify his end. His disciples still wished to pray for his recovery and brought an image of Avalokiteśvara in response to his request; the Dharma Master immediately burned incense, gazed upon the image, and prayed, saying: 'My Avalokiteśvara, / The prior limit does not come, the latter limit does not go; / The Buddhas of the ten directions dwell together in the limit of reality. / May you dwell in this limit of reality and accept my stick of incense...' and so forth. When someone asked where he was returning, he still answered with the Pure Land of Tranquil Light. At the third watch of that night, he peacefully passed away sitting upright. Prior to this, the Dharma Master had personally constructed his coffin, calling it the 'Distant Couch' and composing an inscription for it. The disciples, diligently adhering to their master's previous wishes, laid his spiritual body upon the Distant Couch; after seven days, his features remained as intact and pure as in ordinary times. His age was sixty-nine, and his monastic seniority was fifty. On the night of his transformation, people in the mountains saw a great star fall upon Vulture Peak, and a dazzling red light appeared in front of the temple. He ordained nearly one hundred disciples such as Ruoxu, and there were about twenty persons such as Wenchang and other superior men who were transmitted the lectures and received the Dharma; those who came to his gate to study numbered no fewer than a thousand. On the fourth day of the second month of spring in the following year, they escorted the Distant Couch to be buried below the Moon Cassia Peak to the east of the temple, adjacent to the pagoda of the eminent Sui monk Zhenguan. I have known Master Shao for nearly thirty years; in my later years in the mountains, my friendship with him became even closer. Master Shao was of advanced age and genuine gravity, and was also a Dharma Master of renowned virtue. He once charged me with editing and compiling the authentic record of the Great Dharma Master; at first, feeling my writing was clumsy, I did not dare undertake it. When I submitted a memorial for the Dharma and returned after achieving slight success, Master Shao had already passed away, which filled me with deep sighs. Now Master Bian has further entrusted me with the record, wishing to fulfill his master's intention; Master Bian is upright, careful, and skilled in continuing the lineage, and is also a worthy disciple of clear wisdom. As I happened to leave the mountain to avoid criticisms, he exhorted me with even greater diligence. Considering that I could not bear to go against the command of his late teacher, I have tentatively compiled and ordered it based on Master Shao's authentic record, entitling it Quji (Detailed Record), for it records his deeds in fine detail. Indeed, Ciyun was intelligent and insightful, with firm and clear resolve; hence he established himself grandly within the Buddhadharma, remaining eminent from beginning to end without decline. Even the renowned eminent monks of antiquity could not surpass him. When the world compares him to Zhenguan, is it not truly so? That the style and teachings of the Tiantai school flourished even more in Wu and Yue was also aided by the virtue of Ciyun. I regret that I did not live in time to see the man himself. In this year, the eighth year of the Jiayou era, a gui-mao year, on the first day, ji-hai, of the last month of autumn, this was recorded in the eastern garden of Longyou in Jingkou.

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鐔津文集 — Classical Chinese