The Acts of the Buddha 5.6

5.6

尊者阿難陀，見地普大動，
心驚身毛竪，問佛何因緣？
佛告阿難陀：「我住三月壽，
餘命行悉捨，是故地大動。」
阿難聞佛教，悲感淚交流，
猶如大力象，搖彼栴檀樹，
擾動理迫迮，香汁淚流下。
「親重大師尊，恩深未離欲，
惟此四事故，悲苦不自勝。
今我聞世尊，涅槃決定教，
舉體悉萎消，迷方失常音，
所聞法悉忘，荒悸亡天地。
怪哉救世主，滅度一何駃，
遭寒水垂死，遇火忽復滅。
於煩惱曠野，迷亂失其方，
忽遇善導師，未度忽復失。
如人涉長漠，熱渴久乏水，
忽遇清涼池，奔趣悉枯竭。
紺睫瞪睛目，明鑒於三世，
智慧照幽冥，昏冥一何速？
猶如旱地苗，雲興仰希雨，
暴風雲速滅，望絕守空田。
無智大闇冥，群生悉迷方，
如來燃慧燈，忽滅莫由出。」
佛聞阿難說，酸訴情悲切，
軟語安慰言，為說真實法。
「若人知自性，不應處憂悲，
一切諸有為，悉皆磨滅法。
我已為汝說，合會性別離，
恩愛理不常，當捨悲戀心。
有為流動法，生滅不自在，
欲令長存者，終無有是處。
有為若常存，無有遷變者，
此則為解脫，
於何而更求？汝及餘眾生，
今於我何求？汝等所應得，
我以為說竟，何用我此身？
妙法身長存，我住我寂靜，
所要唯在此。然我於眾生，
未曾有所惓。當修厭離想，
善住於自洲。當知自洲者，
專精勤方便，獨靜脩閑居，
不從於他信。當知法洲者，
決定明慧燈，能滅除癡闇，
觀察四境界。逮得於勝法，
離我離我所，骨竿皮肉塗，
血澆以筋纏。諦觀悉不淨，
云何樂此身？諸受從緣生，
猶如水上泡，生滅無常苦，
遠離於樂想。心識生住滅，
新新不暫停。思惟於寂滅，
常想永已乖。眾行因緣起，
聚散不常俱。愚癡生我想，
慧者無我所。於此四境界，
思惟正觀察，此則一乘道，
眾苦悉皆滅。若能住於此，
真實正觀者，佛身之存亡，
此法常無盡。」佛說此妙法，
安慰阿難時，諸離車聞之，
惶怖咸來集。悉捨俗威儀，
驅馳至佛所，禮畢一面坐，
欲問不能宣。佛已知其心，
逆為方便說：「我今觀察汝，
心有異常想，放捨俗緣務，
唯念法為情。汝今欲從我，
所聞所知者，於我存亡際，
慎莫生憂悲。無常有為性，
躁動變易法，不堅非利益，
無有久住相。古昔諸仙王，
婆私吒仙等，曼陀轉輪王，
其比亦眾多。如是諸先勝，
力如自在天，悉已久磨滅，
無一存於今。日月天帝釋，
其數亦甚眾，悉皆歸磨滅，
無有長存者。過去世諸佛，
數如恒邊沙，智慧照世間，
悉皆如燈滅。未來世諸佛，
將滅亦復然，我今豈獨異？
當入於涅槃。彼有應度者，
今宜進前行，毘舍離快樂，
汝等且自安。世間無依怙，
三界不足歡，當止憂悲苦，
而生離欲心。」決斷長別已，
而遊於北方，靡靡涉長路，
如日傍西山。
爾時諸離車，悲吟逐路隨，
仰天而哀歎：「嗚呼何怪哉？
形如真金山，眾相具莊嚴，
不久將崩壞？無常何無慈，
生死久虛渴，如來智慧母，
而今頓放捨，無救苦奈何？
眾生久闇冥，假明慧以行，
如何智慧日，忽然而潛光？
無智為迅流，漂浪諸眾生，
如何法橋梁，一旦忽然摧。
慈悲大醫王，無上智良藥，
療治眾生苦，如何忽遠逝？
慈悲妙天幢，智慧以莊嚴，
金剛心絞絡，世間觀無厭，
祠祀嚴勝幢，云何一旦崩？
眾生何薄福？輪迴生死流，
解脫門忽閉，長苦無出期。」
如來善安慰，割情而長辭。
制心忍悲戀，如萎迦尼花，
徘徊而遲遲，悵怏隨路行，
如人喪其親，葬畢長訣還。

The venerable Ānanda, seeing the earth tremble everywhere,
Was startled in mind and his body's hair stood on end; he asked the Buddha what the cause might be.
The Buddha told Ānanda: "I shall abide in life for three months,
And have relinquished the remainder of my life-formation; therefore the earth shakes greatly."
Ānanda, hearing the Buddha's teaching, was overcome with grief, his tears streaming down,
Just like a mighty elephant shaking a sandalwood tree,
Agitating it with pressing distress so that its fragrant sap flows down like tears:
"He is close, revered, the Great Teacher and Lord; his kindness is deep, and I have not yet abandoned desire;
Only because of these four matters can I not bear my sorrowful pain.
Now that I hear the World-Honoured One's definitive instruction on entering nirvāṇa,
My entire body withers and collapses; I lose my bearings and my ordinary voice fails,
All the Dharma I have heard is forgotten, and in wild panic the heavens and earth vanish.
How monstrous! The Savior of the world—how swiftly he passes into extinction!
Like one who meets cold water and is near death, then encounters fire which suddenly goes out again;
In the wilderness of the defilements, bewildered and having lost his way,
He suddenly meets an excellent guide, yet before being led across, suddenly loses him again.
Like a man journeying through a vast desert, parched with heat and long deprived of water,
Who suddenly comes upon a cool, clear pond, but running toward it, finds it completely dried up.
Your eyes with dark-blue lashes and fixed pupils clearly illuminate the three periods of time;
Your wisdom shines upon the dark and hidden—how can that darkness fall so quickly?
Just like sprouts in an arid field, looking up with hope for rain as clouds arise,
Yet a sudden storm quickly dispels the clouds, leaving them in despair, guarding an empty field.
In the great darkness of ignorance, all living beings lose their way;
The Tathāgata lit the lamp of wisdom, yet suddenly it is extinguished, leaving no way to emerge."
The Buddha, hearing Ānanda's speech, so bitter in appeal and tragic in sentiment,
Spoke soothing words to comfort him, expounding the true Dharma:
"If one understands the nature of reality, one should not dwell in sorrow and grief;
All conditioned things are phenomena destined for destruction.
I have already told you that separation is the nature of every gathering;
Affectionate love is by principle impermanent; you should abandon your sorrowful longing.
Conditioned phenomena are flux and movement, rising and perishing without self-mastery;
To wish to make them endure long is utterly impossible.
If conditioned things were permanent and without alteration,
That itself would be liberation—
Where else would one seek it? What do you and the other living beings
Seek from me now? What you all ought to attain,
I have already finished explaining; what use is this body of mine?
The wondrous Dharma-body endures forever; I abide in my tranquility,
And what is essential lies solely in this. Yet toward living beings,
I have never grown weary. You should cultivate the thought of weariness and detachment,
And dwell well on your own island. Know that to be your own island
Is to be dedicated, diligent in skillful means, dwelling quietly alone in retirement,
Not following reliance upon another. Know that to take the Dharma as an island
Is to be a lamp of certain, bright wisdom that can dispel the darkness of delusion,
Contemplating the four domains. Attaining the supreme Dharma,
One is free from self and free from what belongs to self: a skeleton of bone daubed with skin and flesh,
Moistened with blood and bound with sinews. Looking closely, it is all impure;
How could one take delight in this body? Feelings all arise from conditions,
Like bubbles upon the water, impermanent and suffering in arising and ceasing,
Far removed from any thought of pleasure. The mind and consciousness arise, abide, and perish,
Renewing anew without pausing for an instant. When one contemplates cessation,
Any thought of permanence has long been broken. All formations arise from conditions,
Gathering and dispersing, never permanently together. The foolish give rise to the idea of a self;
The wise have nothing that belongs to a self. In these four domains,
Reflecting and contemplating correctly: this is the One-Vehicle path,
Where all sufferings are completely extinguished. If one can dwell in this,
With authentic, correct contemplation, whether the Buddha's body remains or perishes,
This Dharma is eternally inexhaustible." While the Buddha spoke this wondrous Dharma
To comfort Ānanda, the Licchavis heard of it,
And, filled with terror, all gathered together. Abandoning their worldly courtly manners,
They hastened to the Buddha's place; having paid homage, they sat to one side,
Wishing to ask, but unable to speak. The Buddha, already knowing their minds,
Forestalled them with skillful words: "Now observing you,
Your minds hold unusual thoughts: you have cast aside worldly concerns and duties,
With hearts only mindful of the Dharma. What you now wish from me
To hear and to know: regarding my remaining or perishing,
Take care not to give rise to grief and sorrow. The nature of impermanent, conditioned things
Consists of restless, mutable phenomena, unstable and without benefit,
Having no character of long endurance. The ancient ṛṣi-kings,
The ṛṣi Vasiṣṭha and others, the Cakravartin Māndhātṛ,
And their peers were very numerous. All such former superiors,
With power like Maheśvara, have long since perished,
Not one surviving to this day. The sun, the moon, and Śakra Devendra,
Very numerous as they are, all return to extinction;
There is none that endures permanently. The Buddhas of the past,
In number like the sands of the Ganges, whose wisdom illuminated the world,
Have all been extinguished like lamps. The Buddhas of the future
Will pass away in just the same manner; how could I alone be different?
I must enter into nirvāṇa. Since there are those there who should be delivered,
It is now fitting to proceed forward. Vaiśālī is pleasant and joyful;
You should remain at ease. The world offers no refuge,
And the three realms are not fit for delight; you should halt sorrow, grief, and pain,
And generate a mind free from desire." Having thus resolved upon long farewell,
He wandered toward the north, slowly proceeding along the long road,
Like the sun approaching the western hills.
At that time the Licchavis followed along the road, weeping and chanting,
Looking up to heaven and lamenting: "Alas, what an astonishing thing!
This form like a mountain of true gold, fully adorned with the marks,
Must before long crumble away? How uncompassionate is impermanence!
In birth and death, long parched with thirst, the Tathāgata was the mother of wisdom,
Yet now he suddenly abandons us; how can this suffering without a savior be borne?
Living beings have long been in darkness, relying on bright wisdom to proceed;
How can the sun of wisdom suddenly conceal its light?
Ignorance is a swift current, sweeping living beings away in its waves;
How can the bridge of the Dharma suddenly collapse in a single day?
The great Physician King of loving-kindness and compassion, with the supreme medicine of wisdom,
Cures the sufferings of living beings; how can he suddenly depart far away?
The wondrous heavenly banner of loving-kindness and compassion, adorned with wisdom,
Interwoven with a diamond-like heart, which the world never tires of viewing,
The lofty banner adorning the sacrificial rites—why does it suddenly fall in a single day?
How meager is the merit of living beings! Whirling in the current of birth and death,
The gate of liberation is suddenly shut, with long suffering and no time of escape!"
The Tathāgata comforted them well, severed emotional ties, and bade a long farewell.
Controlling their minds, they bore their sorrow and longing, like withered karṇikāra flowers;
Lingering and halting, sorrowful and despondent, they walked along the road,
Like people who have lost their parents and, the burial finished, return after their final parting.