法苑珠林 66.5

66.5

Now, the transmigration in the three realms is like duckweed drifting across the six destinies. The spiritual consciousness is imperishable, held in obscurity by thoughts and perceptions. Now dying, now being born; at times coming, at times going. In casting away bodies and lives, grass tallies can hardly tally them. Indeed, throughout the great earth, there is no mound or pit that was not our former body; the vast oceans and flowing rivers all equal our tears and blood. Viewing it in this light, who is not our relative or friend? Although humans and ghosts differ, their birth and death are certainly the same. Sentiments of love and affection at times still echo back and forth. The multitudes of the deluded and foolish do not recognize close from distant kin; consequently, they cause another's physical form to perish in order to nourish their own bodily life, mutually butchering and dismembering one another to form an abyss of resentments. Through kalpas, they become enemies to each other, and their bitter retributions can hardly be exhausted. Quietly contemplating this matter, how could one's heart not ache?