出三藏記集 7.14

7.14

The *Fangguang* and the *Guangzan* are of the same original text, differing only in translation. Both of their original texts were obtained in the kingdom of Khotan and brought here, separated in years by only a little. The Khotanese śramaṇa Gidara brought the *Guangzan* in the seventh year of Taikang [286 CE]. Master Dharmarakṣa translated it on the twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month of that year. For the *Fangguang*, Zhu Fentu in the third year of Taikang [282 CE] sent it from Khotan to Luoyang on behalf of his master; it was only in the fifth month of the first year of Yuankang [291 CE] that it could be translated. It arrived four years before the *Guangzan*, but was translated nine years after the *Guangzan*. For the *Fangguang*, the Khotanese śramaṇa Mokṣala held the Hu manuscript, and Zhu Shulan translated the words. He was concise in narrative and restrained in phrase, paring down repetitious passages so that the subject matter is clearly and brightly displayed, easy to peruse. Yet following conciseness must inevitably leave things out; regarding the Indian phrasing and Teng's translation, Shulan was often lacking compared to the original. For the *Guangzan*, Master Dharmarakṣa held the Hu manuscript, and Nie Chengyuan was the scribal recorder. The language followed the Indian original, and the subject matter was not embellished. It is thoroughly detailed indeed, yet the wording favors plainness over refinement. Whenever it reaches the opening of a topic, it is often awkward; furthermore, its reciprocal elucidations are not distinct and luminous. Yet when one examines what it translated, each and every matter is comprehensive and meticulous. They complement and benefit each other, and what one realizes through them is truly abundant. It is regrettable that [the *Guangzan*] lay dormant in the land of Liang for ninety-one years, coming close to total loss before it finally reached this realm. After this sūtra suffered mutilation and became incomplete, the *Fangguang* was translated soon after and circulated widely in the Chinese capital. The mind-quelling upāsakas transmitted it together in harmony. The venerable Master Zhi of Zhongshan sent someone to Cangyuan to cut silk and copy it, carrying it back to Zhongshan. The Prince of Zhongshan and the sangha went forty *li* south of the city with banners and pennants to welcome the sūtra; such was its circulation in the world. For this reason, none knew of the *Guangzan*. Formerly, while in Zhao and Wei, I came upon its first chapter by chance; knowing that this sūtra existed, I sought it but could not find it. It was only when I met Huichang, Jinxing, Huibian, and others who were traveling to India: passing through Liangzhou on their way, they copied it despite hardship. Passing through Qin and Yong, it finally reached Xiangyang on the twenty-fourth day of the fifth month in the first year of Taiyuan of the Jin [376 CE]. Examining it and pondering it, I rejoiced in the benefit received; I have therefore recorded its merits to make an abridged commentary, as follows: Prajñāpāramitā is the root of the supreme, correct, and true Way. 'Correct' means equal; it is the non-dual entry. The equal Way has three meanings: the dharmakāya, knowing, and the limit of reality. Therefore, as a sūtra, it takes Suchness as its beginning and the dharmakāya as its primary theme. 'Suchness' means 'being so.' Root and branch are equally so; nothing can cause it not to be so. Through the arising and passing away of the Buddhas, it endures unbroken and constantly exists, unattached and resting upon nothing; hence it is called 'Suchness.' The dharmakāya is singular and constantly pure. Being and non-being are equally pure, having never possessed names. Thus in morality, there is neither precept nor violation; in concentration, there is neither samādhi nor distraction; in wisdom, there is neither wisdom nor foolishness. Silently, all is forgotten, and dualities and triplicities completely cease. Luminous and unsoiled, it is therefore called 'pure'; it is the constant Way. The limit of reality is non-attachment: serene, motionless, still, and mysteriously level. It is non-action, yet there is nothing it does not do. The ten thousand dharmas belong to the conditioned, yet this dharma is profoundly silent. Therefore it is said: 'That which has nothing is the true nature of dharmas.' For this reason, the ten thousand practices in this sūtra are doubly discarded; at every chapter, they are negated. Why is this? In ignorance, nowhere does one go that is not a boundary; speaking all day long, one is entirely bound by things. Hence there are the eighty-four thousand gates of dust and defilement. In wisdom, nowhere does one go that is not subtle; speaking all day long, one is entirely aligned with the Way. Hence there are the eighty-four thousand perfections that cross over the limitless. This is what is meant by 'holding fast to great purity so that the ten thousand practices become correct.' Being correct without impairing the subtle is greatness! Generally, when discussing prajñā, those who infer the conquered realms of all illnesses are those who penetrate the principle; those who track the territories of all medicines are those who sever traces. Those who talk loftily of penetrating traces lose that by which the direction is guided. What guides the direction are matters such as not abiding in the Chapter on Provisional Designations, and not being haughty in the Chapter on the Five Supernormal Powers; these are what allow one to tread among a hundred rulers without losing the meridian. One should closely scrutinize its penetration of traces and also contemplate that toward which it points; only then can one begin to speak of wisdom with such a person. Why is this? The various teachings from the five aggregates up to sarvajñatā are the teachings of wisdom manifested by the bodhisattva in coming and going, the 'Way that can be spoken of.' The various teachings of the single mark and the markless are the true wisdom manifested by the bodhisattva in coming and going, illuminating the 'constant Way.' Because it can be spoken of, subsequent chapters say 'the conventional' or 'expounding for oneself.' As for the constant Way, they say 'unconditioned' or 'speaking again.' Both of these are equally called 'wisdom,' and neither can be dispensed with. These are the vital essentials of turning the wheel of the Dharma, and the constant rule of Prajñāpāramitā.