法苑珠林 2.5

2.5

Now, the tridhātu is fixed in its positions, and the six destinies are differentiated. Coarse and subtle assume disparate appearances; suffering and joy trace diverging paths. When one examines their source and origin, they do not depart from form and mind; when one inspects their culmination, there is none that is not arising and ceasing. Arising and ceasing within saṃsāra—this is called impermanence. Form and mind like shadows and phantoms—this is termed the root of suffering. Therefore the Mahāparinirvāṇa-sūtra likens it to a great river, and the Lotus Sūtra compares it to a burning house. Sages, attaining awakening, halt their carriages and return to the source, transcending the three realms of existence and gradually passing beyond the ten bhūmis. When we trace how worlds establish their substance, they are formed of the four great elements. Karmic harmony and conditions unite, coming into being in accordance with the times. When their numbers are full, calamities arise, and they return again to destruction. Those of so-called short lifespans regard them as long; those of long ones see them as short. Because empty space does not exist, its measure is boundless; because worlds are limitless, their shapes are not uniform. Thereupon a great thousand[-world system] is ruled by a Dharma King; a small thousand[-world system] is governed by a Brahmā king. Mount Sumeru is inhabited by Śakra; the Iron Ring serves as a encircling wall. The great ocean forms the inundation of the eight directions; the sun and moon serve as the torches of the four quarters. Swarming multitudes of beings find their home herein; petty sentient beings never ponder the mud and coals [of suffering]. If viewed while immersed in the mundane, these seem extravagant words of wild fabrication; but if examined through the Great Way, they are matter within the palm of one's hand. Yet the worldly venerate the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, submissively admiring the classics and books. But when defining and circumscribing the cosmos, their conjectures fall short of clarity. The Yijing speaks of the "dark heaven," merely taking the name from its obscurity and depth; Zhuangzi speaks of the "azure heaven," which is close to the colour seen when gazing into the distance. Thereupon the rustic takes brightness on trust and calls the sky azure like beryl; the Confucian scholar relies on the canon and calls the celestial vault black as lacquer. Azure and black are truly different, yet in being alienated from substance they are the same; Confucian and rustic differ, yet they do not know it is all one. Thus the worldly revere the name of "heaven" without knowing its reality; how could they know the ornate splendour of the six desire [heavens] or the radiant brilliance of the ten Brahmā [heavens]? Alas! If they do not even know the manifest facts of this realm, it is naturally no wonder that they do not contemplate the subtle principles. I reflect that while the broad and equal Mahāyāna scriptures speak much of deep emptiness, when tracing the Dīrghāgama and the Loutan jing which set forth and explain the cosmos, their text is vast and their verses extensive, so that they are difficult to examine and study quickly. Now I briefly extract the essentials to mark their general import.