Commentary on Mind Seal

Here is Harry Miller’s commentary on his two new English translations of the classic poem, Xin Ming by Master Niutou Farong, which are published in Chan Magazine Autumn 2020.

Introduction I generally try to read some of the most important Chan/Zen poems in their original. It is a way of reading deeply, and translating takes one even deeper. The Chinese is perfect. The English has to be perfected. (Please note that there are two Chinese versions of the poem, the Quan Tangwen 全唐文 from the Qing Dynasty in 1819, which I used. There is also the Jingde Chuandenglu 景德傳燈錄 in 1004 in the Song Dynasty. The differences are very minor and there is really no difference in meaning between them.) In discussing 心銘, Mind Seal, by 牛頭法融 by Niutou Farong (594-657) of the Tang 唐 Dynasty, a Dharma teacher friend of mine said that it is best to look at a poem like this not so much an expression of spiritual breakthrough or religious rapture but as a serious document meant to help a student or students who are very advanced, on the brink of awakening, but are held back by some subtle misunderstanding, misperception or attachment. I first translated the poem with the help of some Chinese friends, who are long time practitioners. I wanted to make a very readable translation, that would align with a consistent idiomatic rendering, although I venture to say very few people can fully understand the poem without considerable commentary, as well as considerable practice. Fortunately, Master Sheng Yen, used the poem as the basis of a number of Dharma talks that were presented during eleven retreats in his book, Song of Mind, which was published in 2004, but many of the retreats took place in the eighties and nineties. Using Master Sheng Yen as my guide, I was able to make a much more faithful translation than I could have ever done on my own. The translation in his book is quite good, but I wanted to look at the original and understand it for myself, from the ground up, so to speak. Master Sheng Yen’s purpose in using Farong’s poem was to help his students during intensive practice and to spread the Dharma through the teachings in this and many other of his books. My goal is more modest. I wanted to look at the poem from a new point of view and use it as my own study guide. I hope that this translation will give the reader some idea of the great insight that lies within the original, and I hope that this might lead a prospective student to 1

Master Sheng Yen’s Song of Mind, as well as some of his other books. He was a remarkably insightful and kind teacher. I was his student for thirty years, and the lessons I learned from him were and continue to be remarkable. And please note: when I talk about the state of enlightenment, for me it is just that, talk. I’m relying on Master Sheng Yen’s commentary and his great wisdom as well as reading that I have done over the years, but my understanding, at this point, is mostly intellectual and not experiential. According to the instructions in the poem, I’m still taking “baby steps.” A word about the title “Xin Ming” 心銘. It is literally, mind inscription or engraving. In modern Chinese, there is the expression mingji 銘記, which is literally to “engrave in memory,” but this would be more about a life event or even studying for a history test. Mingxin 銘心 is more literally “engrave in the mind” and can mean “remember with gratitude.” Mingxinkegu 銘心刻骨, literally, “inscribe in the mind, carve in bone,” means to “bear in mind forever.” But how can something be engraved or imprinted in the mind? What tool would you use? I used the translation “Mind Seal,” because in Chinese Buddhism, seal can often mean proof, evidence, authenticity. And Farong’s poem is about the truth and authenticity of true mind, which though beyond concepts, images and descriptions, can be pointed to and can be experienced. According to Zen/Mahayana teaching this true mind, or Buddhanature (which is not a phrase that’s used in the poem) is our birthright. Nothing can make an engraving or inscription on this mind, but the truth and experience of it can be attested to. That truth is the “seal,” the proof. This, I believe, is what Farong is doing, and as I mentioned earlier, he is showing the way. To make this kind of journey and expend this kind of effort for awakening needs unshakeable confidence. This is certainly one of the reasons why “Mind Seal” was written, as it shows how that confidence can be uncovered and nurtured. In many ways it is like the famous poem by Sengcan, the third patriarch, which is called “Faith in Mind.” Each of these poems, in their own way, counsels looking no further than one’s own mind and turning away from illusory thoughts and views, so that we can see the world exactly as it. There is proof of this, I believe they would both assert, if only you have the dedication and purpose to find it within yourself.

1. Mind nature xinxing 心性 not arising, buxing 不生 The word 心 xin in Chinese can be quite confusing. It can mean heart or mind or both. Additionally, in Chan literature,

2 sometimes xin means the deluded, confused mind of ordinary sentient beings. This is a mind that is obsessed with a “sense of a “self” that we wish would last forever, but doesn’t, no matter how much we worry or complain. This sense of self further wishes to possess or push away people, objects or events, which by their nature are illusory and certainly do not conform or act according to our fears or desires. So the deluded mind is based on, or gives rise to, an illusory self. But xin, the exact same character, can also mean the awakened, enlightened, true nondualistic mind that is perfectly aware but unattached to a sense of self or a desire for possession or rejection. However, this sense of “true mind” cannot be captured in concept or language. So, it is also expressed as “no mind,” which certainly doesn’t mean “mindless,” as it might colloquially. Neither my description of mind or no-mind is entirely accurate, but unless we’re engaged in meditation practice and we understand that words are pointers to the truth, not the truth itself, we are momentarily confined to the restrictions of language, until we find out the truth for ourselves. The nature of mind is non-arising. This could also be translated as “unborn,” but that sounds a little too ontological to me, as if there were some kind of incipient existence that is waiting to come into being. However, to definitively say that “mind does not exist,” would be too strong a statement. I chose “non-arising” because it seems more process-oriented, which may also be misleading, but “process” is harder to pin down. And the nature of mind cannot be pinned down. What does “non-arising” mean? It refers to a pure, undefiled, unchanging state that is very different from the deluded way we attach to manufactured projections in our own minds. We take these impermanent, imprecise projections of our own making, and believe that they are an unassailable reality that exists apart from us in what we think is the “real” world. But that is really the illusory world of which most of us ordinary sentient beings are unaware. Generally speaking, we don’t know that there is any other reality outside of the one we think we experience. In saying that the mind is non-arising, the poem asserts that things that appear to our deluded minds are just that, appearances only. True mind is not fooled by appearance and sees what the deluded mind believes to be reality only as a shifting panoply of projections. A crude analogy would be that of a movie screen, which shows any number of different movies from

3 horror to cooking shows, but whose surface and substance never changes. Of course, a real movie screen will wear out like anything over time. But true mind does not wear out. It is important to understand that a “non-arising mind” is not a torpid, uninvolved mind. Much to the contrary, this a description of an entirely awake mind that is deeply engaged with the world, and acts out of compassion and wisdom

2. What need hexu 何須 to know, see (or have views) zhijian 知見. Knowing, zhi and views jian - constitute dualistic concepts that are taken to be “real” and are subject to attachments, and indeed, are attachments themselves. True, non-arising mind is free of such restraints. I had first translated this as “what need is there to understand?” But knowing, that is taking something into (our deluded) mind, even precedes the understanding of what’s taken in. Knowing describes experiencing, access to the raw data of living and dying. Having views, jian, actually wrong views, is one of the four asravas, or taints or “outflows” (these are root causes of suffering, deep tendencies in the mind). The other three asravas are sensuality, desire for existence, and ignorance.

3. Fundamentally, there is no benwu 本無 single dharma yifa 一法. The character ben is often translated as “originally.” However, this word might be understood as something that was originally one thing but could change to another, as someone who is originally a plumber, and then becomes an electrician, “plumberness” disappears. But ben really means “from the start and never stopping.” This line contains the first instance of fa, or dharma. This a very tricky word to translate. A dharma, as the Lankavatara Sutra states, is anything you can imagine (which includes things that you directly perceive as well as those you fabricate entirely, like rabbit horns, tortoise hair, or the child of a barren woman). Fa has many meanings, but in this case, it might be translated as “phenomena” or “things,” in the sense of “anything that can be apprehended by the dualistic mind.” According to non-dualistic traditions (to which this poem belongs), dharmas, all phenomena, are projections of the mind – that is, they are merely fabrications perceived or conceived by the mind, whether seemingly true or seemingly false, but from the viewpoint of true mind (which doesn’t really have a view point), such phenomena from beginningless time never had, nor do they now have, any true, unchanging reality. The deluded mind just makes

4 things up, even if they seem to accord with “reality.” Such dharmas, as they seem to be presented to our deluded minds, only have provisional reality, subject to moment-to-moment impermanence. A belief otherwise (that what we see is nothing but the truth) is the attachment of a confused mind. As Master Sheng Yen states, mind (our deluded mind) only arises when thoughts are generated. Note that dharma with a capital “D” - Dharma - usually means the actual teaching of the Buddha. This how I translated it in line 185. However, in line 155, I translated it as “method,” which is yet another meaning.

4. Who discusses sheilun 誰論 influence and refine (cultivate) xunlian 薰煉. The sense of this line is “Who would talk about cultivation (or practice). The characters for cultivation, or practice, xunlian, connote training or refining metal. I suspect that Farong while encouraging his students, is chiding them with some mild sarcasm, although I have to look further into this. In other words, he seems to be saying, “don’t knock yourself out by trying to practice and cultivate in search of some truth outside of yourself.” While we benefit from teachers and relationships, ultimately, we find the truth within ourselves.

5. Go back and forth wangfan 往返 (to) no end wulun 無端. Endless coming and going - this might be a description of a student who is eager to attain what he or she thinks is enlightenment, but who is caught in pursuing shadows. Additionally, coming and going are relative terms that are conditionally dependent. Later in the poem, in line 178, it will say that these two concepts of “coming and going” are no different from one another. In a non-arising mind, there is no such thing as coming and going.

6. Seeking zhuixun 追尋 won’t see buxian 不見. Literally, “seeking, not see.” A seeking mind is a desirous mind. The seeking mind is no different from true mind, it is same mind in an agitated, non-restful state. A metaphor that is often used to convey this is that of a large jar of water, mud and stones. Agitated it is opaque. At rest, the debris settles and the jar is again transparent. This is not a perfect metaphor but it is useful. It is seeking (and desire and hatred) that agitate true mind. It is the seeking itself that must be dropped. That in itself might constitute a kind of discovery.

7. All things yiqie 一切 not doing mozuo 莫作. The true mind, or to be less object- oriented, awakening, is not something that can be produced, it is complete right here right now. As in the last line, it can’t be sought - it’s not “a thing.” So, there is “nothing to be done,” It is already finished, and it was never started. We just have to see it.

8. Bright quiet mingji 明寂 self-appear zixian 自現 It would tempting to translate minji as silent illumination, or the method of no method but that might be the understanding that Hongzhi had in the Song dynasty, some seven hundred years later. However, true mind, whatever it may or may not be, would not change from one century to the next. The natural state of the mind is ji, quiescent, i.e., not arising, and ming, luminous, i.e., boundless and utterly clear. That is why it will zi, naturally (or, of its own accord) xian, manifest. These qualities are unhidden to an awakened mind.

9. Before border qianji 前際 like sky rukung 如空. The word kung originally just meant the sky in Chinese literature, which is probably its meaning here. Later, it came to mean “empty” or “emptiness,” and I’m sure there’s some sense of that meaning here as well. Emptiness, as a teaching and a reality, of course, can be quite complicated, but for simplicity’s sake it can be understood (conceptually) as pointing beyond conceptuality. So, it means that things are beyond labeling because they are impermanent – a description in one moment is invalid in the next. We ordinary sentient beings glom on to the concepts, images, and impressions of what we experience rather than behold the actual experience itself as it actually transpires, and we build new, illusory concepts from the previous illusions we fabricate. The past, “the previous frontier,” has no substance now. It can’t be held on to, but we do hold onto thoughts and concepts (which appear in this moment even though their content may seem to point to the past or future). This holding on is a prime mover of our suffering.

10. What you know zhichu 知處 misses the teaching (doctrine or principle) mizong 迷宗. – I equate the conceptual knowledge of the past – the empty sky – with the beginning practitioner who tends to fall back on what he or she has known conceptually, not what they are

6 encountering in the moment. We generally believe that we are “seeing” what is right in front of us. That is, you couldn’t identify a pencil, if you had never seen one before. Information about “pencilness” is stored in past memory. That memory is really what you “see” when you pick up a pencil. When we do this, we are missing mi what is actually present. The poet Louise Gluck wrote: “We experience things only once, in childhood/ the rest is memory.” We see what we believe to be arising, but we are not on the path pointed to by the doctrine or teaching. The Gateless Gate, Wumenguan, the 12th century collection of koans (Chinese gungan) opens with this sentence: 佛語心為宗 - “The Buddha said that mind constitutes (or is) the doctrine”. This is true mind, the non-arising mind, and the doctrine (principle), once again, constitutes a proper understanding of its nature and its workings. Worldly knowledge cannot apprehend this principle nor follow it as a teaching. This is the understanding behind lines 159- 160, where it states that practitioners of early Buddhism (this poem is from the later Mahayana tradition) cannot understand this teaching. What is tricky about understanding zong is that it has a seemingly conceptual component, “teaching” and also a “principle” which is beyond concepts.

11. Clearly demarcated fencing 分明 illuminated mirror jiaojing 照鏡 A bright mirror is often a metaphor for the illuminated mind, but here it is associated with the discriminating mind which making distinctions fenming which are not intrinsic to true mind.

12. Following (or along with) illumination suijiao 隨照 dark drizzle mingmeng 冥濛 Since the “illumination” in the preceding line has been subject to discrimination, it is in a state of misperception, following and trying to classify the data of perception, etc. This leads one astray down a path of fog and shadows. Ming can mean Hades. Meng can be drizzle and rain. This bright mirror, tarnished by discrimination, definitely does not show things as they are.

13. Entire mind yixin 一心 will have stagnation youzhi 有滯. Zhi means sluggish, blocked, stagnant, clumsy, slow, hampered. This is the result of following the path of discrimination. The mind will be bogged down with superfluous illusory information. However, this “superfluous illusory” information is basically what we sentient beings have to work with.

And some of us can function pretty well with it. The point is that what underlies this mode of perception and behavior leads to suffering.

14. All dharmas chufa 諸法 not penetrated butong 不通. tong can mean a teaching, truth, understanding, power, penetrating (wisdom), etc. When the mind is impeded, it will be defined by delusions rather than clarity, so you will never get a complete picture of what is going on inside and around you. Here is an example where dharma, fa, seems best translated as “thing,” especially as no-thing.

15. Coming and going chulai 去來, zier self near 自邇- things come and go, but how do you relate to this flow? If you’re not imposing your own interpretation upon the natural conditioned nature of things, people, and events interacting then:

16. Why falsely hujia 胡假 push to limit tui qiong 推窮 Why falsely push (an investigation) to the limit? Xia can often mean “apparent” as opposed to real. Such an investigation, based on misperception and goals based in desire and aversion, cannot be find a real solution, only an incomplete, inaccurate one.

17. Arising not juiwu 生無 arising mutual shengxiang 生相 According to Yogacara (a major Mahayana school of philosophy and practice first developed in the 4th and 5th centuries CE by the half-brothers Asanga and Vasabandu), everything is a projection of the mind – this includes our perceptions, as well as all of the components we take to be our bodies, form, sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness, the 18 dhatus (each of 6 sense organs, 6 sense objects, and 6 consciousnesses). Arising is a projection of the mind. Non-arising is also a projection of the mind. These would also be called dharmas and non-dharmas (what seems real and what seems imagined). As mentioned in the last line, investigation would be fruitless, because the attributes that we examine in our investigation are themselves illusions. We’d be making change from a counterfeit bill. We take the phenomena and non-phenomena we perceive to be reality, when it is we who obfuscate reality with our projections. Meanwhile, true reality abides (or non-abides) unobserved.

18. Arising (and) illumination shengzhao 生照 one and the same yitong 一同 Not only are arising and non arising the same, but what seems to arise sheng, the awareness of that arising, zhao (which can also be rendered as “clarity of mind”) are identical. Because in a nondual understanding, the observer and the observed are not separate. It is simply mind encountering mind. This is to say there is no differentiation between subject and object. That is, they are inseparable, but distinguishable, like mountains and valleys.

19. (If) wish obtain yude 欲得 mind purity xinjiang 心淨 If you wish to have mind purity, xinjing 心淨. That is, if you feel that your mind is vexed and you would like to “purify,” that is free, your mind from vexations, then:

20. No mind wuxin 無心 be diligent yongxin 用功. Since nothing has to be done (to reach true mind), but we still feel vexed, how are we to proceed? The desire “to purify” the mind, which would seem to be a turning towards liberations, is nonetheless desire. That is, we want things to be other than they are, even though our intentions seem to be “good.” That turns out to be not only a contradiction, but completely unhelpful. It is like pouring gasoline on a fire to put it out. Desire begets more desire, not dispassion. This brings up a problem that first puzzled Dogen Zenji - if we have buddha nature and are enlightened, why do we have to practice? And how can we practice? Using “no mind” does not mean “mindlessness,” in the conventional sense. It’s really about not using any conventional reaction to whatever situation we find ourselves in, but to let go of our everyday delusional approaches to what we are confronting. It is to understand that you have whatever you need in any given moment. The “no mind” that the poem speaks about is what opens up the entire universe for us. In a short footnote like this, I can’t really go into great detail about this, but “using” “no mind” is a great message of the entire poem. True mind does not need purification. There is an old joke about how to carve an elephant - by taking a block of wood and removing everything that doesn’t look like an elephant. How would you do this if you didn’t actually know what an elephant looked like? No mind includes everything that is and isn’t an elephant.

21. All dimensions, zongheng 縱橫 (what is longitudinal and horizontal, or spatial and temporal) are not illuminated wuzhao 無照 – What constitutes any basis for any kind of measurement, label or comparison, including ideas such as time and space, subject and object - all these are invalid on an ultimate or absolute level. Illumination, jiao, could be just ordinary dualistic discernment, like in the discriminative mirror illumination in line 11. Here it means “perfect clarity of mind” so, “all dimensions, physical dimensions, time and space” - all are part of the dualistic world of illusory forms (that is objects of subjects), which cannot be illuminated because they do not truly exist. You can’t shine a light on the invisible man. This might seem to be a “lack of discernment,” as if someone were not paying attention to what’s around them. This is not the case; it is really about transcending attachment. This means that we will not be fooled by a mirage. At this level of practice, someone has the option of being fully engaged with the world. However, they are no longer experiencing that engagement as a source of vexation. Therefore:

22. (This situation of no discernment) is extremely zuiwei 最為 subtle wondrous weimiao 微妙. Recognizing the above (non illumination of all dimensions) is rather remarkable - outside of ordinary modes of perception and understanding. Hence it is truly most subtle, miao.

23. Know dharmas zhifa 知法 (by) not knowing wuzhi 無知 know, zhi has two meanings in this line. The first kind of knowing is ordinary, dualistic knowing. You see an object using your eyes, and record the event. The second kind of knowing is the function of true mind - non-dualistic knowing - that is, direct experiencing, that transcends the senses and any subject/object relationship. This shown in a line from HongZhi (1091-1157) 不觸事而知不對緣而照. This translates as “without contacting things (phenomenon, affairs, etc.), it knows. Without opposition to conditions, it illuminates.” Or, “Knowing, without subject or object; Illuminating, without affirmation or denial.” So you can know things dualistically or non-dualistically (no separation between you and what your perceive.

24. Not know wuzhi 無知 know essential zhiyao 知要 This line reinforces the one above, if you know by not knowing, you know what is essential, yao.

Additionally, there is a koan from The Book of Serenity, Case 2: Dizang asked Fayan, "Where are you going?" Fayan said, "Around on pilgrimage." Dizang said, "What is the purpose of pilgrimage?" Fayan said, "I don't know." Dizang said, "Not knowing is most intimate." This dialogue illustrates what true “not knowing”is. It is about leaving behind or at least not being caught up in concepts and a “desire to know.” Dizang is really pointing out that Fayan has everything that he needs.

25. Take up mind jianxin 將心 guard silence (or, tranquility) xinshou 守靜 To regard the silence and tranquility of the mind as a goal is a very easy mistake to make in practice. Arriving at a sublime state, everything seems peaceful and this is certainly the way a beginning practitioner would like things to be. However, the goal and the achievement of the goal are illusory and misdirected. This would be to use “knowing” rather than “not knowing,” which is a release from all conceptuality. If you try to preserve, guard, or protect, shou, a state of quietude jing, this would be practicing without true clarity of mind. Sometimes this state is referred to as a “ghost cave,” where the mind is comfortably withdrawn from the world. It is a pleasant, but dead-end state.

26. Still not yet youwei 猶未 departed from sickness libing 離病. Because you’re trying to preserve an illusion (of quietude) you don’t depart from sickness, which is not just the world of world of suffering and vexation, but a misguided attempt to overcome that suffering and vexation. In modern Chinese wanghuai 忘懷 simply means “forget,” but separately the characters mean “forget to cherish,” so the line might mean, “leave off your preoccupation with life and death.” Master Sheng Yen defines “Chan sickness” simply as thinking your mind is clear when it is not.

27. Life death shengsi 生死 forget wang huai 忘懷 When life and death are no longer a concern, you have arrived at (or really gone nowhere to get to) benxing, 本性 - original nature,

11 which is beyond change and no change. It is the way you always have been and will always be, or not. By extension, life and death means clinging to existence and fearing non-existence, and sometimes just the opposite, fearing life and clinging to death when one is in a state of fear or has lost all hope. In modern Chinese wanghui means to forget, as in an experience, and is often placed in the negative: an unforgettable experience. The two characters separately mean to forget and to cherish, which may have been the case in the seventh century CE. So, don’t obsess about or cherish these things.

28. This is precisely jishi 即是 original nature benxing 本性. This “original nature” is often described as your “original face,” which is in accord with the zhili 至理, ultimate principle and lies beyond and within conceptuality, illusory forms, birth and death, space and time. It could also be translated as reaching (an understanding of) this principle. So the line might be interpreted, “I cannot tell you how to arrive at an understanding of this principle (you have to figure it out for yourself).

29. Ultimate (or arriving at) principle zhili 至理 cannot explain wuquan 無詮. In his commentary on the Lotus Sutra, Daosheng (360-434) makes extensive reference to li, or principle. In his study of Daosheng, Young-ho Kim goes into great detail about the term. From Neo-Taoism, it means something “to be searched exhaustively,” ”to be consummated,” the ultimate point “to reach” or “to encounter” . It is something to be “enlightened to” or “to be seen (directly) or experienced.” It has dual facets in that it is immanent in phenomena and transcendent of phenomena. It can also be understood as the universality of things and the singular principle underlying them. Thus li in the poem is a way of being and functioning that can only be apprehended by a mind in perfect equipoise. It would not be accessible or comprehensible to us ordinary sentient beings, but it is the essential way that things are. It would be interesting to contemplate the difference between “original nature” and “ultimate principle” benxing 本性 and zhili 至理. They are undoubtedly, the same thing, but one is perhaps described as form (which is formless) and the other as function (which is functionless). One might wonder what the difference is between li 理 and zong 宗, since they both mean principle in some cases. In Farong’s poem zong appears to have more of a sense of teaching or

12 doctrine, but I believe there’s an understanding that there is an esoteric aspect of the teaching that transcends conceptual doctrine and that is where zong becomes an experienceable principle that cannot be articulated.

30. Not free feijie 非解 not wound up (or involved) feichan 非纏 This would be an apt description of the principle referred to above. It is neither free or liberated or something separate, nor is it bound, fettered, or vexed. It is neither wisdom nor vexation, and it is beyond worldly understanding, so ordinary dualistic appellations don’t apply. You’re not free or trapped and neither are you not not free or untrapped, or both or neither. No concept will encompass the actuality of this state.

31. Spirit penetrates ling tong 靈通 according with things ying wu 應物. In modern Chinese, ling tong, means “having quick access to information” or “well-informed.” Ling can also mean “spirit, mysterious, divine,” but I think this is still referring to li, principle in line 29, so the sense is that the principle or someone at one with this principle is unobstructed and has instant access to whatever phenomenon is at hand so that sentient beings can be helped. Such a person is not impeded by self-interest.

32. Always at changzai 常在 eyes front muqian 目前 This true reality pervades everything surface and depth. It is transcendent and immanent, all at once. You don’t have to look further than right in front of you. It is always muqian right in front of your eyes.

33. Eyes in front muqian 目前 nothing wuwu 無物 This line contrasts with the line above which continues to center around li 理, which I take to be true suchness (or the principle behind it, which is probably the same thing) which is everywhere at all times. However, worldly things wu, are impermanent, they are merely projections of the mind, so what you see with your worldly, fleshy eyes is not existent. In Buddhism the only truly real thing is something that doesn’t change or is beyond change and permanence. That would be li. And just in case, from the line above, you think that this principle is right in front of your eyes. Think again. There’s nothing there.

34. No thing wuwu 無物 just like that wanran 宛然. This condition of there being “nothing at all,” or that what we usually perceive is nothing more than an illusion - this is not some supernatural state of affairs or an other worldly realm. It is actually the way things are, wanran, with no artifice. This is true perfected reality, parinishpanna in the Yogacara school, and it is object-less and subject-less. A less accurate view be would that of paratantra, where everything in the world is understood to be conditioned, that is existent only by virtue of a matrix of contingency and interdependence. In other words, there is no such thing as an independently existing newspaper – it only appears because of paper which came from trees and print which probably came from petroleum and an infinite combination of technology and human effort. So, a newspaper, like everything else we encounter with our senses, has no existence independent of everything else in the universe. However, we ordinary sentient beings don’t even see the world at that level. We live in an imagined world, parikalpita, where we only see what our minds produce and we are unaware of the contingent nature of everything that we encounter. All three views are of the same universe but experienced very differently.

35. Buliao 不勞, means “don’t go to the trouble to” or “it would be in vain to.” And zhijian 智鑒 - is composed of wisdom (or intelligence) and investigate (note Farong could have used can 參, Chan meditative investigation). That wisdom is being used to investigate (may be an indication that this is a dualistic and therefore futile approach). So, Farong may be using “wisdom” ironically. Pursuing a meditative investigation with intellectual investigation will be fruitless. Normally, the character would be translated as “wisdom,” but I think “intellect” is better in this case, especially because Farong says, “don’t waste your time” and because the subtlety of the reference might be lost on the modern reader (i.e. that “wisdom” is being used improperly).

36. Substance self tizi 體自 empty originally xuyan 虛元. Ti can mean body or substance. It is often contrasted with li, for principle. So, this would be a thing in its essence, materiality itself. And it is zixu 自虛, empty or void or self (nature), and has been so from yuan 元, the beginning. So, at no time has any kind of substance been anything other than empty, in

14 essence, that is, according to this view, it has only existed in imagination. Farong is continuing to emphasize that what we have always relied on throughout our lives, is in essence, unreliable.

37. Thoughts arise nianqi 念起 thoughts perish nianmie 念滅. Thoughts arise and fall naturally in the mind. However, when we are unaware of the arising and falling and how they connect with one another, we are caught in a daisy chain of one thought bringing forth another. If you are meditating and the thought of buying a coat arises, and that thought brings up subsequent thoughts about what kind of coat, how much to spend, where to buy it, then you’re caught in a loop, believing that the content of the thoughts is real and not imagined. That doesn’t mean that coats and stores are not real, per se, but the seeming reality of such things when we think about them is not real - there’s no actual coat or store when you’re meditating (perhaps, unless your meditating in a coat store, and even then, it would all be in the mind).

38. Beginning and end (thought) qianhou 前後 no difference wubie 無別. But in true reality, all thoughts are projections, all interconnected, and there is no way to truly delineate them, so what we believe to be their content is illusory. All thoughts, regardless or sequence or content are none other than a manifestation of true mind, so that no thought is different from another. Like light patterns on a movie screen, there is no change in the screen itself when the projector is turned off. This line and the following must be explained together:

39. Subsequent thought hounian 後念 not arising (or born) busheng 不生 In a state of samadhi, intense concentration, where there is no attachment to thoughts, should a thought arise in and of itself, it will be experienced as a mind event rather than a discrete thought with actionable content. Because of the lack of attachment, this particular thought will not cause vexation and will not produce a reaction, i.e. a subsequent thought. Therefore, this first thought arises and perishes of its own accord, and consequently, no following thought will be produced.

40. Prior thought qiannian 前念 self destroying zimie 自滅. The question is, why would the subsequent thought not arise, as stated in the last line? This would be because the practitioner is concentrating well and is not attaching to what is in the mind. The thought of

15 buying a coat is not pursued further. The thought remains in the mind for a moment and then vanishes.

41. The three periods of past, present and future, sanshi 三世 no thing wuwu 無物. In none of these conventional understandings of time periods, past, present, and future, are there any things (phenomena, dharmas). This last character wu is very close in meaning and usage to the English “thing.” It implies “everything” (in the universe), and when everything is negated there is “no thing.” So, after nullifying the thought realm, in effect, in lines 39-40, the scope of the nullification is dynamically expanded to all possible realms, physical and mental. We might think that we could at least rely on the present moment, but even that is unreliable, since we usually define the present as what’s not in the past or future, one of which is gone and the other not yet present, hence, both are illusory.

42. No mind wuxin 無心 no buddha wufo 無佛. The nullification of past, present and future is further reinforced by negating even the mind itself and Buddha. This is the realm of prajnaparamita, transcendent wisdom, which is beyond mind, body, subject, object, concept and even Buddhadharma.

43. Sentient beings zhongsheng 眾生 no mind wuxin 無心 This is a turning point in the poem, revealing the true purpose of practice, saving sending beings. It might strike the reader as odd that after negating the reality of thought, past, present, future, mind, and Buddha, that somehow the lowly sentient being still seems to exist. There are indeed sentient beings, but only provisionally. For one thing, sentient beings think they exist in a certain way. They perceive their suffering as real. That is, sentient beings are caught in samsara by their own karmic actions and misperceptions. But the teaching of no mind, wuxin, will free sentient beings when they cease making mind fabrications and attachments to the notion of self. This idea of sentient beings existing/not-existing is very well expressed in the Diamond Sutra, 3rd chapter: Buddha said, Subhuti, all the bodhisattva heroes should discipline their thoughts as follows: All living creatures of whatever class….all these are caused by me to attain unbounded liberation nirvana. Yet when vast, uncountable, immeasurable numbers of beings have thus been liberated, verily no being has been liberated. Why is this, Subhuti?

It is because no bodhisattva who is a real bodhisattva, cherishes the idea of an ego entity, a personality, a being, or a separated individuality. So, we ordinary sentient beings only view someone else as simply another sentient being. Bodhisattvas both share this view (to alleviate suffering) and do not share this view (because they do not participate in the cause of suffering). This line also expresses Nagarjuna’s two truths - there is a conditional world (which we ordinary beings live in) where suffering appears to be a fact of life. Simultaneously, there is an absolute, nirvanic world where there is no suffering. According to Mahayana understanding these two “worlds” really represent different kinds of experiences of exactly the same thing. Nargarjuna wrote: “Those who do not understand the distinction drawn between these two truths do not understand the Buddha's profound truth. Without a foundation in the conventional truth the significance of the ultimate cannot be taught. Without understanding the significance of the ultimate, liberation is not achieved.” —Nagarjuna, Mūlamadhyamakakārika 24:8-10[11]

44. Relying on no mind yiwuxin 依無心 depart chu 出. “No mind” then is the “bridge” that allows sentient beings to depart from suffering. (With awakening, they realize that there is no suffering to depart from). This once again reinforces the salvific nature of the poem. The enlightened-being-to-be does not practice for him or herself alone, but for all beings. The teaching of “no mind,” that the mind is unarising and there is a way to realize that state, is the ticket to the spiritual samsara-nirvana train. For a true bodhisattva, it’s a roundtrip.

45. Now that Farong has revealed the purpose of his discourse to his students, he begins to tell them about the pitfalls to be wary of on their spiritual journey. Distinguishing, fenbie 分別 between what is common, fan, and what is holy or saintly, xian, is a dualistic mistake based in the misperception of illusory distinctions. This could be understood as distinguishing a common person from a sage, and by extension, it implies putting someone on a pedestal while denigrating others and it implies all the nuances of how we classify and discriminate in our views towards others. It is, in short, to rate and categorize people and things.

46. Doing the above causes vexations, fannao 煩惱 to flourish or to intensify, zhuansheng 轉盛. This is because one attaches great importance to something that doesn’t truly exist, categories. This attachment creates both expectations and fears that are imaginary, no matter how vivid, real and intense they seem. Illusions create and support more illusions - this is the cycle of samsara and a major cause of suffering.

47. This line and the next expand on the false narrative of distinctions introduced in the last two lines, so that if one jijiao 計較, argues about, bothers about, calculates or schemes about what is guai 乖, contrary to reason, perverse or abnormal and what is chang 常, constant, ordinary, normal, this kind of discrimination is an impediment to spiritual progress.

48. Making such distinctions, you may believe that you are seeking the truth, qiuzhen 求真, but you are really turning your back on or walking away from “what is correct” or “exactly right,” beizheng 背正. This line shows that one may be diligently looking into a situation, or in this case, meditating with a goal in mind, but it is the very nature of such dualistic analysis that is at the heart of “wrong view” and vexation. Such actions move the practitioner in exactly the wrong direction. Things are what they are, neither wrong or right, in the initial encounter.

49. Putting an end to both (the concepts of true and false) shuangmin 雙泯, leads towards a cure duizhi 對治. Dispensing with these categories and the need to establish them is a step in the direction of “no mind” and departure from samsara. Ending concerns with true and false implies moving away from the need to categorize anything, and that need stems from our sense of self, and, as it often happens, we value our opinion more than a wise resolution to our problems.

50. Clearly appearing shenran 湛然, bright and pure mingjing 明淨. I added “everything” because I was reminded of the event in the Vimalakirti Sutra, where the Buddha touches his foot to our sullen and sordid world, and all at once everything appears paradisiacal. I don’t think that the abstractions of brightness and purity appear in an isolated fashion, but rather

18 that everything that is encountered appears in this way. This the first time in the poem that the universe of pure mind is described. It is bright and pure.

51. No need, buxu 不須 for skill and effort, gongqiao 功巧. This might also mean to work to achieve merit. Here once again, Farong is telling us to relax, that there is nothing to do, because the state of pure mind is already present, right before our eyes. The difficulty is not in obtaining something we don’t have, but in recognizing all that we already have and are.

52. Continuing and refining that there is no need for skill or effort, Farong drills down even further and advises, keep to, shou 守, a baby’s, yinger, 嬰兒, proceed, walk, practice, xing 行. This is truly “beginner’s mind,” but it also seems to imply that one should begin carefully and slowly, almost as a baby learning to walk. There may indeed be “nothing to do” but that doesn’t mean that practice means being inattentive or lazy. Just a few lines earlier we were cautioned that we may have thought we were pursuing “the true,” but unaided and untutored, we really turn our back on it. Like Milarepa said, we have to “hasten slowly.”

53. Lines 53 through line 60 are devoted to fine-tuning views and helping the practitioner avoid missteps. Xingxing 惺惺 means very bright and intelligent, and liaozhi 了知, is to understand but in a discriminative way. Thus, one may approach the practice intelligently, but if practice is only done on the basis of intellect, it does not lead to awakening.

54. Web of views jianwang 見網 turn to confusion zhuanmi 轉迷 Continuing with mere intellectual understanding, one falls into having views jian 見, views, and the implication is that these are “wrong views” because they’re based on ignorance, one of the three poisons (along with greed and hatred). This ignorance is not about not knowing the capital of a country or a mathematical formula. It is about being unaware of the causes and the actuality of suffering. Views are narratives, ego stories we tell each other, and one narrative connects and expands to many narratives (like a prior thought giving birth to a subsequent one) until all our views roll up into the biggest false view there is: view of self - which could be positive, “I’m the greatest,” or negative, “I’m a loser,” and every possible gradient in between. This concatenation of views

19 tangles into a web, gang 網, that turns you (in the wrong direction) zhuan 轉, until you are mi 迷, lost and led astray.

55. This line presents another spiritual trap that is even more subtle than the one above. This would be to practice until you develop a quiet (mind) jiji 寂寂, when you have wujian 無見, no views at all. This may seem to be the antidote to the state described in the line above, where the practitioner is caught in a “web of views,” however, this tranquil condition constitutes a state that is often called the “ghost cave” where it is very quiet, but dull, lacking clarity. It can be an appealing state because vexations seem to be held at bay, but it really is a sign that spiritual progress has plateaued.

56. With this quiet, but dull mind, you are really in an 暗, dark, zhi 室, room or abode, and consequently, your spiritual progress will freeze – there will be no shift or movement, buyi 不移. You will be stuck. This may be somewhat surprising because lines 53 and 54 talk about the problem of ignorance-based views. That is only one part of the problem. Even when the mind is unattached, it must still be active, alive, and aware, as shown in the lines that follow.

57. Lines 57- 60 describe the complete picture of a mind that is both clear and at rest. When you are xingxing 惺惺, so clear, and wuan 無妄, undeluded, as well as:

58. Quiet and tranquil jiji 寂寂 and clear and bright mingliang 明亮. Thus both conditions of perfect stillness of mind as well as perfect clarity of mind must be present.

59. Then the ten thousand things, i.e, the entire universe wanwu 萬物, will always, chang 常, (appear) true or genuine zhen 真. I believe the “appear” is implied.

60. The phrase senluo 森羅 (literally “forest net”) can mean the universe (or 森羅萬象之元, “the mind which is in all things,” from The Awakening of Faith), and can also mean “limitless.” I think there is also some possibility that the character luo may allude to “Indra’s Net,” a teaching from the Hua Yen school which implies both the entire universe and the

20 interconnection and interpenetration of all things within it. So this senluo will maniest in non- differentiated (or unified) appearance yixiang. This is the state described in the beginning of the poem. This is the non-arising, true mind. As the poem proceeds, parameters, if you will, of the non-arising mind, are further elaborated. I chose to use “limitless” here because the ten thousand things, i.e., the universe, already appears in the preceding line. Together lines 59 and 60 imply limitless space and time.

61. Go, come, sit, stand chulaizuoli 去來坐立 This line describes and implies any position that the body can take and any movement/action as well, and by further implication, any kind of functioning of a sentient being. There’s also a subtle implication of space and time - movement of the body through space, and coming and going. At this point the poem takes on a more directed instructional approach. Lines 61-68 further elaborate on the state of one who is beyond attachment and views, which comprises silence and illumination.

62. Everything yichieh 一切 (has) no attachment mozhi 莫執. This line may be straightforward, but is actually quite profound. This is a description of someone who is personally unmoved by any phenomenon, internal or external, unless the situation impinges on the suffering of another sentient being or prevents one from functioning to help sentient beings.

63. Jue ding 決定 - has many meanings: assurance, conclusion, certainty. wufang 無方, from Soothill’s Buddhist Dictionary: “No place, nowhere; unlimited to place or method, i.e. Buddha's power.” So the whole phrase means “unlimited certainty” or “clear in every situation at every time” or “unlimited assurance.” Master Sheng Yen translates this as “affirming no direction,” which “means that the methods taught by the Buddha all lead to the gate of Chan, but once there, to speak of “direction” has no meaning. Additionally, this line has the implication that the practitioner is not swayed by conditions.

64. Who enters? Ru 入, Who leaves? Chu 出. The “who” is most important. What is at the bottom of our comings and goings? Is it our thoughts, feelings, images? Something else? This is an essential question that leads to true understanding. In Chan we work with the huatou, a

21 critical, unanswerable phrase, such as “Who’s reciting Buddha’s Name?” or “Who’s dragging this corpse around?” etc. “Who leaves and who enter?” can also be the example off a huatou. Practicing with a huatou, sincerely seeking the answer to an unanswerable question is very effective in cutting through the conceptual mind.

65. Not united, wuhe 無合, not dispersed wusan 無散. This is an expression of non- duality, concerning opposing views about whether things or beings are related or unrelated, unified or separate. Such distinctions are empty categories according to Buddhist teaching. That is, they are impermanent and do not manifest these labels “from their own side.” Things don’t have self-awareness; we impose our sense of self (our perceptions and interpretations) on everything we encounter. A bunch of sticks, for example, don’t know whether they’re separate or in a bundle, no matter what their physical reality may be. Those labels are applied by us. Categories of united or dispersed relate to the spatial dimension.

66. Neither slow, buchi 不遲, or fast, buji 不疾. As above, these are relative, worldly labels. Things cannot be fast or slow except in relation to something else. Without something to compare to, there can be no sense of movement, whether fast or slow. In a non-dual view, there would be no “other” to compare to.

67. Silent ji 寂 and bright, ming 明 occurs naturally, ziran 自然. The character for bright, ming, is very close the meaning of another character, zhao 照, which is often translated as “illuminated.” I believe that the meaning is the same. Note that in this line, silent and bright might seem to be labels like unified, scattered, fast and slow, but they are not. They are words that express the inexpressible, because this silence is beyond quiet and noise and the brightness is beyond light and dark. This exemplifies a mind that is devoid of self-concern and clear and unimpeded, beyond labels.

68. Beyond the reach of words, bukeyanji 不可言及. As stated above, this is a state of true reality that is not subject to imagination, like the world that most of us live in. The fact that

22 it is beyond the reach of words does not imply any limitation of the writer’s ability of expression. It is simply indescribable and beyond conceptuality.

69. From this line through line 88, there is a further elaboration of that which can’t be elaborated upon: mind itself. So mind is not other than mind, xinwuyixin 心無異心. This can be understood as saying that true mind is simply ineffable, such that you can only say, “mind is nothing other than mind.” It can also be understood as saying deluded mind and awakened mind are identical. Samsara is nirvana and vice versa. Even though this is ineffable it is not imaginary or science fiction.

70. Don’t cut off, buduan 不斷 greed and lust, tanyin 貪淫 Because mind is not other than what it is and because it is beyond change and permanence; emotions or states of mind like greed and lust are not intrinsic to the mind, they first come with the territory, so to speak, but they can only be sustained if they are regarded as real. Greed and lust are just two entries in a whole host of “negative” states of mind, like jealousy, hatred, etc. that are certainly implied in this line. These “poisons” are inherent but not intrinsic to mind. If this is realized and greed and lust are not made into objects and reacted to, then they lose their power and fade with impermanence. This is not a formula for amorality. Quite the contrary, this is beyond moral and amoral, yet infinitely good and beneficial. Of course, there is no suggestion that one should reinforce greed and lust, just abandon them naturally. Following the Dharma path, the roots of greed and lust are naturally severed.

71. Their nature, xing 性 is empty, kung 空, so that greed and lust and hatred and ignorance will naturally depart zili 自離 of their own accord. Negative and positive emotions are created by the deluded mind. When the mind is silent and bright, then emotions have no self- reference, nothing to attach to. There is no one to be greedy or lustful.

72. Things, freely move renyun 任運, and (of their own accord) rise and fall, fuchen 浮沈. True mind is not affected by what appears to be its contents. Form and content are one and

23 the same. We can be mindful but unattached to what transpires in the mind. Nevertheless, we can act or not act on this information, according to what is appropriate.

73. The poem continues to eliminate labels and parameters that the mind normally adheres to. The mind is neither pure, feiqing 非清, nor impure, feizhuo 非濁. This can be understood as neither clear nor confused, as well. Eliminating these categories which we ordinary sentient beings consider to be the way things are, eliminates any comparisons or polarities that we might attach to.

74. This line continues the decategorization. Mind, is neither shallow, feijian 非淺, nor deep, feishen 非. Since mind cannot measure mind, such quantitative assessments are meaningless. This is why, searching high and low, mind can’t be found, yet it is all around.

75. Likewise, from time immemorial there was no past, benlaifeigu 本來非古. This is a very radical statement. It would seem to negate the teachings of causes and conditions, that things emerge from combinations of other things and events that preceded them. This is the fundamental Buddhist teaching of pratityasamutpada, dependent origination, that appears throughout all Buddhist teachings. However, this negation of the past is stated from the point of view of true mind, where such descriptions don’t apply. There is a past in the world of ordinary sentient beings, but it is illusory.

76. The actual character is “to see,” jian 見. I have translated it as “take note:” because I believe Farong is giving an exhortation to his students about “right view.” Each of these three lines makes a very fundamental statement. In this line, it says, “there is no now here” zaifeijin 在非今. Nothing that can ordinarily be relied on exists in true mind. So, there’s no present moment awareness, because there’s no present moment. At least, this line is showing that the concept of “present moment” is questionable. Also, the sense of the phrase in line 75, benlai, originally, applies to lines 77-79.

77. Nothing abides here, zaiwuwang 在無往. This last character wang, can be past or future, going or carrying over, among other meanings. It is often translated as “abiding,” which is what I have chosen. It is a way of describing impermanence, everything is in flux, everything changes, everything passes away. As it says in the Diamond Sutra: 應無所住而生其心: Abide nowhere and then (you will) give rise to this mind (or aspiration). This non-abiding is a feature or part and parcel with true mind.

78. This is original mind, zaibenxin 在本心. What is original mind? The realization of everything above. And the character for “original,” ben, in this context, means “from the beginning, continuing into the present and continuing in the future, forever.” It is not like some original seed that changed into something else.

79. At no time, ben 本 (as explained above) ever, lai 來, not existed, buxun 不存. I translated this as “at no time has anything existed.” That is to say that everything, material and spiritual is in continual flux and dependent - connected to and derived from everything else. Things change too quickly and are too dependent on other things to be pinned down as existing or non-existing. Another interpretation would be that “true mind” has never existed, because it is beyond existence and non-existence. And what does it mean to exist? The root of the word from the Latin existere, means “to stand out” among other things, so whatever seems to present itself to our perception, we deem that it exists. If we are not aware of something does it exist? Not for us if we are unaware of it. But this is a conceptual analysis, which has really nothing to do with what actually is or isn’t.

80. Originally (and throughout time), benlai 本來, (it) namely is, now (the present) jijin 即今. Master Sheng Yen translates this as ‘“Origin’ is the present moment.” From the text, it seems that “origin” was put in quotations to express a kind of irony. How can the present moment be the origin of anything? The present moment would seem to be a continually changing endpoint. With true mind, words and concepts like “origin” or “cause” or “beginning” simply have no meaning. The present moment would seem to comprise an origin, an abiding, and a

25 ceasing, yet none of the above. I think it is also an exhortation to practice and look deeply at right now. It’s not about philosophy or an exposition of logical ideas.

81. Bodhi (awakening), puti 菩提, fundamentally is (exists) benyou 本有. This is to say that true mind is intrinsic to existence and existence is intrinsic to true mind.

82. (Bodhi) does not need, buxu 不須, guarding (or protection) yongshou 用守. Nothing we do or don’t do will harm awakening, or true mind. The character, yong 用, may have a sense of “to employ or use” but it doesn’t seem necessary to translate it here.

83. Vexations, fannao 煩惱, fundamentally, ben 本, non-existent, wu 無. As Master Sheng Yen said, wisdom has no vexations, compassion has no enemies. In a non-dualist, non ego-driven state, no moment is preferable to another, so the mind does not become disturbed. Because this is the case:

84. There is no need, buxu 不須, to eliminate, yongchu 用除 (the vexations). Here once again the advice is fundamentally to relax in terms of getting rid of vexations. The desire to get rid of vexations is itself a vexation. The actual causes and conditions that manifest in the world cannot be eliminated. However, we can alter the way we react to them. From the viewpoint of true mind, the world we live is itself a projection (or interpretation) of our own confused minds. The vexations we experience are reactions to these projections, which fundamentally don’t exist. Farong continues to explore and reveal the nature of true mind to help his students along the path.

85. I find the character for spirit, ling 靈, somewhat difficult to translate. It can mean the spirit, or the soul. It can even mean a coffin. It also has the sense of active, lively, spiritual, energetic, or mysterious The character for “to know” zhi 知, can also mean knowledge. It is not usually translated as wisdom. In the second line of the poem, knowing and views, zhijian 知見 appears. It is clear here that this type of knowing is dualistic, intellectual, and based on illusory concepts. But here in line 85 “knowing” is modified by ling, so it seems to be the dynamic

26 knowing of the awakened mind which is not fooled by illusory views. I have translated it as energetic awareness rather than knowing. I couldn’t see using the word “spiritual,” because it would be hard to justify is a Buddhist context. I guess it could imply the Buddha’s awareness and perhaps it was understood as such by practitioners in the 7th century, but I couldn’t justify translating it in that way. By its very nature, which is a function of the non-arising mind, this awareness, by itself, zi 自, illuminates, zhao 照. However, as Master Sheng Yen points out in Song of Mind, the word “illumination” can be misleading, because like the light from a flashlight directed at a wall, the light does not penetrate. That would not be true for the illumination described here. That’s why Master Sheng Yen says that “clarity of mind” would be a better translation than illumination. However, “clarity of mind” does not reflect (no pun intended) the active, unlimited, penetrative sense that zhao has.

86. All dharmas (literally, ten thousand dharmas), wanfa 萬法, return thusly, guiru 歸如. One might ask what “return to thusness means”? This may in part be an answer to the Chan/Zen question - “All things return to the one. Then where does the one return to?” Since things are “thus,” they are empty, not other than what they are. They are label-less and are not subject to leaving or returning. They can’t return to some state or place that they never left. This is the nature of mind that is not other than mind. This is the nature of the “deep, subtle awareness that naturally shines forth” in the line above. And in the next line:

87. There is no return, wugui 無歸, and no receiving wushou 無受. There can be no act of returning, because nothing left, so there’s no need to come back from some place that was never visited. The wushou, is sometimes translated as “no receiving,” and this could mean that since nothing is returning you would not be receiving anything. But the character shou can mean the skandha, or aggregate of sensation or feeling. So it might also have a sense of “nothing to sense,” that is without subject/object duality, there is no subject to sense, or feel, about any object. Everything is unified.

88. Cut off contemplation, jueguan 絕觀, and forget watching over (or protection) wangshou 忘守. The first phrase echo’s the advice in the beginning of the poem which advises the practitioner to leave off cultivation. The second phrase emphasizes security, it might be a stretch, but there is also the expression, zunshou 遵守, which means to “obey and keep the rules,” i.e. precepts, which would a further elaboration of the idea of not cultivating. But I chose to use the protection meaning, so I chose “security.”

89. With this line and the next three, the poem talks about recognizable Buddhist teachings and concepts and then negates them. The four virtues, si de 四德, are unborn, busheng 不生. I translated busheng in the first line of the poem as non- arising. Here I translate it as unborn. The reason is that, to me, non-arising works better with “nature of the mind,” because there is some sense of a “process” in, at least, the presentation of mind. But unborn works better with what amounts to names or labels, the four virtues. Master Sheng Yen has an excellent discussion about them in Song of Mind. Suffice it to say here, that the four virtues, also called the four inversions, as expressed in the Mahaparanirvana Sutra are deliberately contradictory presentations of the three characteristics, or marks of existence: suffering, impermanence, non-self, with the addition of impurity, making four all together. The four virtues, are true self, true permanence, true happiness, and true purity. These four virtues might be descriptive of the actuality of the Buddha’s life, but they are still concepts, so they are “unborn” and “uncreated.”

90. The three bodies, sanshen 三身, fundamentally (or have always) existed, benyou 本有. The doctrine of the three bodies is a later addition to Buddhism after the early teachings. For ordinary sentient beings, these three bodies can be understood as different manifestations of Buddha. The first, the dharmakaya, or truth body, is thought to have been set forth in the Prajnaparamita Sutra in eight thousand lines. It represents the true nature and reality of Buddha, that is beyond ordinary perception. This is the transcendental, blissful, eternal, and pure self of the Buddha. The next, the sambhoga, or reward body, is a special manifestation of Buddha that is only perceivable by bodhisattvas who have achieved the first bhumi and above. As Master Sheng Yen points out, the sambhogakaya may appear differently to beings according to their

28 attainment. The third body, is the nirmanakaya, or transformation or incarnation body. This is understood as the Buddha that we sentient beings can see, so that would describe Shakyamuni. In the Records of Linji it says, “Do you wish to be not different from the Buddhas and patriarchs? Then just do not look for anything outside. The pure light of your own heart [i.e., 心, mind] at this instant is the Dharmakaya Buddha in your own house. The non-differentiating light of your heart at this instant is the sambhogakaya Buddha in your own house. The non- discriminating light of your own heart at this instant is the nirmanakaya Buddha in your own house. This trinity of the Buddha's body is none other than here before your eyes, listening to my expounding the Dharma.” Master Sheng Yen says that the nirmanakaya can be anybody or any sentient being that we encounter, and that it is important that we see everyone around us as buddhas. Now the question is why is Farong stating that they are “unborn” or “non-arising.” This may be to dissuade practitioners of the earlier traditions from believing that Shakyamuni was born and became a Buddha in his lifetime on earth, which is the understanding that is prevalent in the early teachings. The Lotus Sutra explains that this was just an expedient means, that Buddha was not born and he did not die. Even though the Lotus Sutra does not mention the three bodies specifically, I think it’s clear that the implication is that the nirmanakaya has always existed. I don’t think the “always existed” concept would be an issue for the sambhogakaya and the dharmakaya.

91. The six sense organs (literally, six roots), liugen 六根, match with, dui,對, their (corresponding) (sense) objects (or domains, boundaries), jie 境. That is, eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind interact with sight, sound, taste, smell, touch, and thought. This is standard Buddhist understanding.

92. Discrimination, fenbie 分別, is not consciousness feishi 非識. An enlightened being has access to the world of sense and ideas, subjects and objects, just as an ordinary sentient being does, and so can see, hear, etc. just what an ordinary sentient being would. However, this access and engagement is not subject to attachment, or burdened by a misperceived sense of self, so a sage does not use the ordinary, discriminating consciousness that we do in order to engage with the world.

Because consciousness has so many connotations in Chinese and English, for that matter, I chose to translate it as “conceptualization” in this case. This is to show that the enlightened mind is “aware" but that awareness is not based on ordinary consciousness. Conceptualization is what ordinary consciousness ”does,” among other things. A bodhisattva is comfortable interacting with ordinary sentient beings on whatever level they happen to be. They understand the world from the viewpoint of an ordinary sentient being, but in order to help such beings, they are not attached to that understanding.

93. Lines 93-98 describe how an awakened mind operates and how it interacts with the world surrounding it. A unified mind, yixin 一心, has no delusions, wuwang 無妄. A mind that is not caught in discrimination, as described above, is not fabricating narratives. It is a mind that is not wandering. In meditation instructions, Master Sheng Yen describes increasingly calm and aware states of mind going from scattered to concentrated to unified to no-mind (i.e., awakened mind). However, the unified mind mentioned here, as Master Sheng Yen makes clear, is not simply a very concentrated state of mind. It is really no-mind, the mind of enlightenment. The unified mind that is described as a stage in meditative practice is a very calm, sometimes joyful state, but it is still attached to the illusory world. No-mind, which may not be the world’s best label, is a state of complete dispassion and detachment. Another word for no- mind is true mind, and it is the mind of the buddhas. This is the mind of non-arising.

94. The ten thousand conditions, wanyuan 萬緣, adjusted to the true, tiaozhi 調直. A true mind, referenced above is in harmony with all things and all situations. What is perceived is perceived without the intercession of self, desire, or hatred. Each moment is experienced freely, and unobstructed. This, like many lines in the poem, is really an elaboration of “form is not other than emptiness, and emptiness not other than form” from the Heart Sutra. That is, there is no contradiction or dissonance between the enlightened and the ordinary state.

95. So, the mind’s nature xinxing 心性 is fundamentally level (or even) benqi 本齊. A mind without discrimination and without delusions is perfectly equanimous. Everything that is encountered is met without prejudice, prejudgment or bias. This line describes how true mind interacts with the environment and with all those whom we encounter.

96. Therefore, someone at this level will, dwell together (with everyone and everything) tongju 同居, yet they should not “bring along” or “carry” buxie 不攜. Master Sheng Yen translates this as “non-arising.” I get the sense that it means “don’t identify with,” which is not a particularly Buddhist term. But “identify with” would include ego involvement. So, I chose “do not attach,” which seems simpler and easier to understand.

97. There is nothing arising, wusheng 無生, according with (or favorable to) things (or phenomena) xunwu 順物. This further refines the way a true bodhisattva should comport him or herself. A non-arising mind (that is a mind with no attachments) is at one with everything that it encounters.

98. Following (or according) in places suichu 隨處, secret (hidden) perched yuji 幽棲 This line, I believe, describes how an enlightened being interacts with the world. The “enlightened” aspect is operative but not apparent to ordinary sentient beings. Acting this way, bodhisattvas can “follow” or “be in accord with” every possible situation, yet manage to stay in the background and unobtrusive.

99. Enlightenment, jue 覺, comes from you, 由, non-enlightenment, bujue 不覺. The Buddha came to teach ordinary, seemingly unenlightened sentient beings. Non-enlightenment is the cause of enlightenment. If there were no unenlightened beings, there would be no need for the Buddha’s teaching. This could also be interpreted as an enlightened (being) emerges from an unenlightened (being).

100. Therefore (or, namely) ji 即, enlightenment is non enlightenment, juewujue 覺無覺. Since one is the cause of the other, they are inextricably linked so that you can’t really distinguish where non-enlightenment ends and enlightenment begins. Ultimately, trying to distinguish them, especially considering the impermanent nature of existence, would be a futile exercise in duality.

101. Gain and loss, deshi 得失, two sides, liang 兩邊 (of the same thing). Because of impermanence and constant change, what seems to be a gain may turn into a loss. Additionally, there are numerous contingent conditions - let's say you win some money, but your new found riches make you a target for a thief, or you become ill, so the money is irrelevant. It is really inaccurate to hold on to a series of events (and it’s always a series, in time and space) and label these occurrences as either gain or loss. They are two sides of our experience, and the conceptions surrounding them are not reliable. And as Master Sheng Yen states, wisdom and vexations are always together and cannot be separated.

102. (Therefore) who’s considering (or speaking about), sheilun 誰論, good and bad, hao-e 好惡? As explained earlier, such varying experiences cannot be claimed to be good or bad in the context of everyday, constantly-changing life. Yes, they might be used in a narration of events, but for the person experiencing these changes, the labels of “good” or “bad” are not helpful or really accurate at all. They may not be relevant as time goes by.

103. Everything (all things) yiqie 一切, conditioned youwei 有為. This describes the entire dualistic world that is perceived by ordinary sentient beings. In modern Chinese youwei can mean active, or productive. It even means “showing promise.” But in classical Buddhist literature, youwei is often contrasted with wuwei - unconditioned: which is the state of the non- arising mind, panishpanna, in Yogacara parlance. Youwei is the conditioned world, paratantra, in Yogacara. The use of youwei is clearly shown in the Diamond Sutra: 一切有爲法如夢幻泡影如露亦如電應作如是觀 (the 3rd and 4th characters are youwei). “All conditioned phenomena / Are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow / Like dew or like lightning / You should discern them like this.”

104. Fundamentally (or originally) ben 本, (there was) no wu 無 creating (or fashioning or making) zaozuo 造作. In a mind whose nature is non-arising, everything we perceive, whether arising, sustaining or ceasing, is merely a projection in the mind. What we believe is an actual physical reality is multiply-determined and impermanent. Of course,

32 conventionally buildings are built and projects and careers are embarked upon and completed. These statements about things being non-existent come from the viewpoint of enlightened masters. These ideas point to the inapplicability of all labels and the degree to which we attach to them. I left out “fundamentally” because I think it is understood in “were never”

105. Know zhi 知, mind is not mind xinbuxin 心不心. This can be understood as “ordinary mind” is not “true mind.” I guess it could also be understood as ordinary mind is not ordinary mind and true mind is not true mind. That is, no label can be trusted, they are all products of deluded thinking. Here is another example of how the poem keeps pulling the proverbial rug from under us. We’ve been instructed that things don’t exist, there’s no past, present and future, no mind and no Buddha. What more can be decoupled from us? Well, we must have secretly believed that there was still “mind” but now we see that whatever we thought (dualistically) was wrong.

106. No illness wubing 無病, no medicine wuyao 無藥. If there is no illness, i.e. there are no vexations in the mind, then the mind does not have to be “cured” of vexations. This is represented by the story of Huike, the second-patriarch-to-be, who approached Bodhidharma, the first patriarch, with a plea to help him quiet his mind. Bodhidharma said, “Fine, bring me your mind and I’ll pacify it for you.” After much meditation, Huike returned and said, “I can’t find my mind.” Bodhidharma, said, “There! I’ve pacified it for you.”

107. When confused, mishi 迷時, discard affairs, sheshi 舍事. In times of confusion or vexation, abandon your notion of what constitutes the thing you’re dealing with, the project you’re trying to accomplish, the goal that you have in mind. That doesn’t mean abandoning a project, for example. It means abandoning the hopes, fears, fantasies, and worries that surround the project. The character shi can mean event, matter, thing, affair, situation, pretty much everything. So the line could also be translated, “When confused, drop (your ideas about) everything.”

108. (Once) enlightened wu 悟 (there) ceases (to be) ba 罷 any difference feiyi 非異. So literally the line means, that, once enlightened there is no difference (between confusion and

33 wisdom, phenomena and non-phenomena, what you have and don’t have). It seemed simpler to say that, “there is nothing to drop.”

109. Fundamentally ben 本 there are no wu 無 (things that) can be acquired kequ 可取. Continuing with the line of exposition from above, our world and our concept of reality is an illusion, thus there is nothing in it and nothing to it, so there is nothing to speak of that can be obtained or lost, and therefore, there is nothing to label “gain or loss.” We might try to find solace in a label of “gain or loss,” but that’s all we would get, a label, nothing more than a momentary illusion. Once again, this is from a very advanced, enlightened point of view. Most of us experience feelings of gain and loss, pain and pleasure, good reputation and ill repute, praise and blame. However, if we look deeply into these matters, we can start to see how multiply-determined they are and how fleeting.

110. Now jin 今, what ho 何, could be discarded yongshe 用棄. Obtaining nothing, the idea of getting rid of what you don’t have is absurd. As Bob Dylan wrote, “when you ain’t got nothin, you got nothin’ to lose.” There is also an implication here that there is nothing to avoid.

111. There are so called wieiyou 謂有, demons arising moxing 魔興. I take “demons” to be a general term for vexations. So according to this interpretation, there are people who really claim to be very vexed. This might actually include demons, but also problems and difficulties of every description.

112. Talk about yan 言 emptiness kung 空, appearances (shapes, images) xiang 象 abound (or fully) bei 備. This is a cautionary line. To rein in the non-dualistic rhetoric, if you will, Farong is saying that suffering and vexations are quite real for ordinary sentient beings. Terms such as “emptiness,” “enlightenment,” “non-duality,” etc. will not make somebody who is not a practitioner feel better. Suffering may not be real for enlightened beings, but for the rest of us they seem very real. I translated this as, “Call them empty, but people see them.” There’s no mention of “people” in the line, but I think this captures the meaning.

113. This line continues the theme of acknowledging the ordinary world of suffering of sentient beings. Do not mo 莫 destroy mie 滅 ordinary emotions fanqing 凡情. Since ordinary suffering is acknowledged in the line above, Farong gives very important practice advice: even if you feel strong emotions, don’t push them away. I used “suppress” because I’m sure the meaning is not to destroy thoughts. Such an effort could only be suppression, not destruction, since there’s really nothing to destroy. Additionally, in line 70 the poem said to not “cut off greed and lust,” and that “they depart of their own accord.” And lines 125-6 also talk about the pointlessness of trying to use your mind to “destroy” thoughts. Ordinary feelings and emotions are parts of your mind that present themselves to you in a particular way, generally painful or pleasant, but those presentations are your own reactions to particular events. They do not come from an external source. With faith and confidence, you understand that these seemingly negative emotions, as well as the seemingly positive ones, are simply one and the same with true mind. We tend to be caught in the emotion, and not see the mind behind it. By dispassionately investigating them, emotions lose their power.

114. Only wei 惟 teach jiao 教 stopping thoughts siyi 息意. Notice that the character here means “stopping” as opposed to “destroying” in the line above. So, I took the liberty of using non-attachment, since that is the only way thinking actually stops. With no attachment to self, thoughts are not generate. An enlightened person can still “think,” otherwise they wouldn’t be able to read a newspaper or find a restroom. However, they are not attached to thinking and are not troubled by the grasping and rejecting driven by a sense of self.

115. Thoughts (or thinking) yi 意 gone (or non-existent) wu 無 mind is extinguished xinmie 心滅. With non-attachment to thoughts or thinking, ordinary mind ceases to be. Ordinary mind is defined and produced by thoughts, when they depart so does (ordinary) mind. True mind, which is not subject to existence or non-existence does not depart. It is not reliant on thinking. As Master Sheng Yen states, thoughts are scattered, but the mind can be guided, focused, and unified (to a point beyond thinking).

116. (When) mind xin 心 is gone (or non-existent) wu 無, (then) activity (or practice) is cutoff xingjue 行絕. Once again, this is the ordinary, deluded mind of thinking which believes that its thoughts constitute reality. This kind of thinking has self-intentionality behind it and it is what generates karma, the force that has brought us to where we are and unabated will determine future existences. However, when self is no longer an object and we no longer attach to thoughts, then karmic-producing activity ceases. The character xing is actually the character that is used for karma, which is one of the twelve links of dependent origination. Xing can also mean practice itself.

117. No need (or use) to buyong 不用 experience (or prove) emptiness zhengkung 證空 This might seem a strange assertion that the poem is making, since one might think the experience of emptiness is the point of practice. But “emptiness” is just a word. It too is empty of intrinsic meaning and existence. The state that Farong is talking about does not require attainment or special experiences. His students may be stuck on believing that they have to get somewhere and have something to show for all their work. This is not the case. There is nothing to prove zheng, no one to prove it, and no one to prove it to.

118. (This is because) naturally ziran 自然 brightness penetrates mingche 明徹 (everywhere). This clarity of mind is the true nature of mind - it pervades everywhere in every time. It is evident in every situation and phenomenon. One might say that this is the nature of emptiness. In recognizing, experiencing, embracing, or living this true reality, no “emptiness” would have to be experienced.

119. (So that) utterly (or thoroughly) destroying miejin 滅盡 life and death shengsi 生死. In the clarity of true mind, there is no arising, sustaining, or ceasing - there is no life and death. Experience of ordinary existence and non-existence is the realm of dreams and illusions that constitute the experience of us sentient beings. There is a Zen saying, that “you don’t have to worry about dying because you were never born.” Master Sheng Yen points out that there are two births and deaths, one of the body and one of the mind, i.e, every thought-moment is a birth and a death. This passage from Master

Sheng Yen’s book is pertinent: “A disciple once asked Master Mazu (709-788), ‘What is non- birth and non-death, not arising and not passing away?’ Mazu replied, ‘I don’t know. I only know about samsara - the karma of birth and death.’ The disciple asked, ‘Then what is the karma of birth and death?’ Mazu said, ‘Wanting to be a buddha, wanting enlightenment, wanting to be a bodhisattva, wanting to cultivate the six paramitas.’” So, it is the wanting that trips us up. The absence of all desire would be the absence of karmic birth and death.

120. Profound (shadowy, deep, abstruse) ming 冥 mind xin 心 enters the principle ruli 入理. Here are some other examples of ming in Chinese. Chenming 沉冥 means “traceless.” mingmingzhijong 冥冥之中 means “imperceptible to the senses.” Ming hui 冥會 means “silent comprehension.” Here “true mind” is identified by what is subtle, mysterious, beyond- comprehension.

121. Open kai 開 (your) eyes mu 目 see forms jianxiang 見相, That is, open your eyes and look at the ordinary, phenomenal world. But at this advanced stage you are looking at the world such that you are utterly in according with the principle li which underlies all the workings of the world. The eye, a sense organ, sees or encounters sense objects, in this case forms - shapes, colors, etc. I used “see what you see” rather than forms, because even though it is the correct technical word, it may sound limited to someone not acquainted with this technical language. Would “forms” include people and plants? Of course, but “forms” could be misleading.

122. Note: in lines 122-134, only lines 122, 125 and 126 refer to the deluded mind. All other instances refer to true mind. So, in line 122: Mind xin 心 follows (or is influenced by) sui 隨 sense-objects jing 境 (and) it arises qi 起. The character jing poses something of a problem. In Master Sheng Yen’s translation, it is translated as “environment.” In much of Buddhist literature, it is taken to mean “sense objects,” such as forms seen by the eye, sounds heard by the ear, etc. In poetry jing can mean “landscape.” Another possibility is simply “things,” but eventually it sounds too informal - as in “mind and things.” There are similar passages in Buddhist literature

37 describing the interaction between mind (true or deluded) and objects, which use the word shi 事 and that word can mean thing, event, situation, etc. Whereas “sense object” is often the proper technical translation of jing, here I think “phenomena” works. “Dharmas” might also be used, but there is a specific word for that in Chinese and it is not used here. What is clear is that the deluded mind, which certainly does arise and fall and react, encounters the outside (or inside) world and stirs, reacts, changes, according to what is encountered. That is why I put “deluded” in parentheses - the Chinese word xin is the same whether it is used in the context of realization or delusion.

123. (True) mind place xinchu 心處 (there are) no phenomena (things) wujing 無境. With the mind at rest, it is non-reactive and phenomena are just seen as projections. This once again echoes back to the first line in the poem. It is the true reality of mind, which is non-arising, and therefore contains no object or process that an ordinary sentient being would recognize. Ordinary sentient beings might be dreaming in this state and believe themselves to be awake.

124. Where there are things jingchu 境處 (there is) no mind wuxin 無心. The mind in this line, is also true mind. Lines 123 and 124 must be understood together. This is really a different way of expressing “form is emptiness and emptiness form” In the line above it would seem that there is only “true mind,” and in this line it would seem that there are only things - phenomena - and no mind - a totally material world. Both of these lines, however, are true and they are not contradictory. There is a line from Dogen Zenji which says that when the moon is reflected in a lake, the moon doesn’t get wet and the water is not disturbed. Everything is in perfect equipoise. The moon and the water are united, yet they are far apart. This is an understanding that defies ordinary logic. In the Tiantai school this non-conceptual, non-logical relationship might be considered the “middle” view, which combines “the false” and “the true.” In Yogacara, this might be considered paratantra, the conditioned world, which stands between parikalpita, the world of imagination, and paranishpanna, the world of absolute truth. The Buddha and high-level bodhisattvas move seamlessly through these domains.

125. Take the mind jiangxin 將心 (and) destroy sense-objects miejing 滅境. This really means “try to destroy,” which is why I used “suppress.” Mind cannot destroy mind, it can only sink in delusion - for a certain period of time. This would be the strategy of someone just learning to meditate. Soon the futility of the effort becomes apparent.

126. This and that (both mind and phenomena) bici 彼此(would be) the cause of (mutual) invasion (or intrusion) youqin 由侵. This would be a very confused state where someone grasps at illusions and tries to make them real, or at another time denies an incontrovertible fact. Images for illusion in Buddhist literature are often expressed as “seeing flowers in the sky,” “looking for the horns of a rabbit,” or “hair on a tortoise.” The Lankavatara Sutra also cautions about believing that oxen have horns. Yes, it seems to be a natural, straightforward understanding, but even “attaching” to conventional reality is a delusion.

127. Mind tranquil xinjii 心寂 things are thus jingru 境如. If you are not confused about true mind and the phenomenal world and you are in a state of wise tranquility, then everything that is encountered is encountered without the addition or subtraction of ego fabrications. You see the world aright, just as it is. In this state there are no attachments.

128. Not pursue buqian 不遣 not capture (or hold on) buju 不拘. In the quiescent state mentioned above there is no need for grasping or pushing away, since one understands that things that one might act upon are simply projections of the mind.

129. Phenomena (or things) follow jingsui 境隨 (deluded) mind’s extinction xinmie 心滅. When the deluded mind ceases to function and there is true, or no-mind, then things lose their ontological, epistemological status. They no longer truly exist nor can they be apprehended by using concepts. The word sui, to follow, shows that there is a causal relationship, but this might not be determined in time or space. In Master Sheng Yen’s translation, the word “together” is used. This avoids any idea of time-sequence that would be suggested by “follow.” There is a sense of simultaneity, but following Guogu’s suggestion, I simply used “along” to suggest the

39 connection. Since mind and phenomena are one and the same ultimately, it is very difficult to express their connection and effect on one another in any language.

130. Mind follows xinswui 心隨 phenomena’s’ non-existence jingwu 境無. There is no longer a perception of things because what one thought were things and objects are now understood to be projections of the mind. At that point the deluded mind is no longer functioning and ceases to be.

131. Both places (or domains) liangchu 兩處 do not arise, busheng 不生. In this particular case, mind xin, and sense-objects jing, are alluded to with the character for “both.” These lines may seem redundant, but with each repetition, a different view of the same thing is revealed, which is helpful because of the difficulty of the task. Master Sheng Yen gives a very good explanation of the stages of practice going from environment (or phenomena) affecting the mind, then mind affecting the environment, and finally no mind or environment.

132. Silent tranquility, boundless brightness. Jijingxuming 寂靜虛明. When nothing arises, there are neither mind nor phenomena, as stated in the line above. That is a non-dualistic, vexationless, wisdom state. The silence doesn’t just mean absence of sound, it is a mirror-like state, timeless, non-reactive, locationless and utterly clear. Such is my interpretation (not my experience).

133. Bodhi puti 菩提 reflection appears yingxian 影現. As Master Sheng Yen states, bodhi can mean full awakening or the beginning awakening to the path. On one level it seems that the student is truly making progress, on another level, true realization is transpiring.

134. Mind water (river) xinshui 心水 always clear changqing 常清. Shui’s root meaning is water, but it can mean a river as well. I thought that was a more poetic image, reflecting impermanence. At this stage of practice vexations that may arise are instantly recognized.

135. The nature of merit dexing 德性 is like stupidity ruyu 如愚. I first translated this as “the nature of merit has no artifice,” which I like, but it is too interpretive. I believe the idea here is that viewed from the outside, merit - in this case meritorious action in the service of self and others - may seem stupid, because the choices, now based on wisdom, may not seem wise or logical to an ordinary sentient being. The famous humanitarian doctor, Paul Farmer said, ‘The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that is wrong with the world.’ His hospital staff thought he was crazy for visiting remote patients - he seemed foolish to them.

[From lines 135 to 146 Niutou describes what the practice of an enlightened practitioner is like.]

136. Not established upon buli 不立 intimacy (or) distance qinshu 親疏. The meritorious work of a bodhisattva responds to the needs of sentient beings according to how he or she can help them. There is no personal favoritism involved. Master Sheng Yen points out that what is intimate comprises things that we find pleasant; the distant are unpleasant things. Merit will be established by virtue of appropriate responses to things despite their relative pleasant or unpleasant nature.

137. Favor or humiliation chongru 寵辱 unchanged bubian 不變. Not only is merit unconcerned with the appearance of those who are helped, but a bodhisattva is not concerned about personal reputation. They act according to the conditions and needs of a given situation.

138. Not choosing buze 不擇 where to live suoju 所居. A bodhisattva, devoted to saving sentient beings, is unconcerned about living situation or circumstances. They are infinitely adaptable and uncomplaining. This is also the attitude of a dedicated practitioner who will practice as hard as possible despite the pleasantness/unpleasantness of circumstances and environment.

139. All conditions zhuyuan 諸緣 suddenly cease dunxi 頓息. In the Soothill Buddhist Dictionary there are 234 entries for yuan, so that it can mean conditions, causes, and by extension connections, relationships, situations, karma, any number of things. I once heard

Master Hsuan Hua say that it was terrible to have a mind that depended upon conditions. That is, in acting as a bodhisattva, the variety of circumstances that present themselves in a given situation, should not deter one from acting. This theme was begun in line 135. Here in line 139, it doesn’t mean that conditions, the world as ordinary sentient beings perceive, suddenly cease, but that attachment to conditions suddenly cease when a certain level of attainment (or detachment) is reached.

140. All things yiqie 一切 not recollected (or remembered) buyi 不憶. This doesn’t mean that an enlightened person has become senile. It is more that the old patterns of behavior, old grudges, old desires, have now departed, so the bodhisattva can embrace the freedom of the moment. And things themselves don’t exist, as the poem shows, so there’s nothing to remember in a conventional sense. Obviously, a bodhisattva needs a certain about of knowledge in order to directly address sentient beings’ needs. As a matter of fact, there are four additional paramitas after the six referred to in the poem (morality, generosity, patience, endurance, concentration and wisdom) which are skillful means, vows, strength, and lastly, knowledge. A bodhisattva has to navigate the conceptual world to help sentient beings without being compelled by conceptual delusions.

141. Eternally day yongri 永日 like night 如夜 ruye

142. Eternal night yongye 永夜 like day ruri 如日 These two lines are flip sides of one another. They serve to eradicate any kind of fixed dualistic understanding. Difficult situations are not difficult, easy situations are not easy, nor are they difficult. Any kind of standard is abrogated. This is a signpost for beginning practitioners and the reality of great practitioners. I believe that this also references birth and death. They simply are not what they seem. A thought about the word, eternal. When we are in a pleasant situation, we want it to last forever, and sometimes we even believe it will. When we are in an unpleasant situation, we feel like it will last forever, and that’s exactly what we don’t want. We have conceptual, i.e, emotional, responses to time and measurement. Master Sheng Yen once posed a kind of koan to us: “Have you ever been in a time when it was neither day or night?” Dawn and dusk don’t count because they’re a combination of the

42 two. From my recollection, Shifu pointed out that we’re very rarely in either day or night, because we’re not aware of our surroundings and we don’t make the associations. There are many other ways of approaching this question.

143. Outward seeming waisi 外似 obstinate (argumentative) insincere (stupid) wanyin 頑嚚

144. Inwardly mind neixin 內心 empty true xuzhen 虛真. Like line 135 these two lines speak about the seeming difference between how a person of great wisdom truly is and how they appear. To an ordinary sentient being, a great practitioner may seem very ordinary, even stupid or foolish, since he or she does not respond to the same set of illusory conditions that ordinary sentient beings responds to. The mind is empty - I chose to call it “free” which may be somewhat limited, but it is perhaps more accessible than “empty,” and, although colloquial, implies much the same thing. Additionally, the character xu 虛 was used here, rather than kong 空. The latter is the usual term that is used when emptiness in the Buddhist sense is meant. That sense means much more than “there’s nothing there,” which is what the English sense of “empty” means. Xu is a little closer to that meaning.

145. Towards boundaries (mental objects, conditions, situations, etc) duijing 對境 un moved budong 不動. With an unmoving, mind of non-attachment, a great practitioner is not put off or distracted by conditions or circumstances - not by anything!

146. Possessing strength youli 有力 great person daren 大人. The essential nature of someone who has transcended boundaries is great strength - of character, of intentions, of abillities.

147. No person wuren 無人 no seeing (or nothing seen) wujian 無見. A person of great wisdom has realized non-self and no mind, so, on an absolute level, there are no sentient beings to save. Such a person therefore “does not see” sentient beings as separate entities, but he or she recognizes their appearance. I.e., the situation they believe themselves to be in.

148. No seeing wujian 無見 always appearing changxian 常現. Even in this state of no-self where sentient beings are not seen according to ordinary modes of encounter, nonetheless, ordinary sentient beings certainly suffer or feel that they suffer. This fact, though illusory, is always the case. The suffering that a bodhisattva addresses is always apparent to him or her, even though they are aware that the suffering is born of ignorance and confusion. The “unending” I believe refers to the “innumerable” nature of beings to save.

149. Penetrate reaching tongda 通達 everything yiqie 一切. For tongda, Soothill has “to pervade, perceive, unimpeded, universal.” When combined with mind, it means “To attain to the enlightened mind; the stage of one who has passed through the novitiate and understands the truth.” In this state there are no obstacles to understanding

150. Hasn’t tasted weichang 未嚐 not everywhere bubian 不遍. The character chang also means “to experience.” So it means that the mind of the sage not only understands the world intellectually, but experientially. This is an ultimate, unlimited embodiment of understanding.

151. Thinking si 思 only wei 惟 turns to confusion zhuanhun 轉昏. Thinking, here means, the movement of a mind mired in delusion. One cannot think oneself into enlightenment. It would constitute a personal tower of babel. The thrust of the poem has been to develop the clarity of mind and dispassion that goes beyond ordinary thinking.

152. Sink mi 汨 disorder luan 亂 pure spirit jinghun 精魂. The character, mi, is actually the name of a river that flows from Jiangxi to Hunan. It is mentioned in a very famous poem by Quyuan, an aristocrat who died in 278 B.C. The poem, Li Sao, means “encountering sorrow,” which, though it has nothing to do with Buddhism per se, would be a good title for a Buddhist poem. After much intrigue, shamanistic pursuits, and rejection, the poet drowns himself in the Mi river. So mi certainly implies “sink.” Another version of the poem uses the character mi 迷 (same pronunciation as the river), which means “lost” or “to lose one’s bearings.” The essential meaning, I believe, is the same, but I chose “sink” to show the consequences of

44 confusion. I find that “spirit” or immortal soul, is somewhat problematic in a Buddhist poem. I sense that its meaning is something like one’s “energy” or “spiritual” energy. It certainly isn’t “soul.” I think the main thrust of the line is that thinking will just sap your energy and put you on the wrong path.

153. Take mind jiangxin 將心 (and) stop movement zhidong 止動. This is a decidedly wrong headed approach to dealing with a wandering mind. This is trying to suppress thoughts which is quite impossible. That doesn’t mean that thoughts won’t depart naturally of their own accord, when they are not attached to, but thoughts cannot be forced out of the mind.

154. (Consequently,) (trying to) change (turn) stopping zhuanzhi 轉止 (will) turn (it into) running zhuanben 轉奔. As mentioned in the line above, the net result of stopping movement will be to produce more movement. That is, thinking about stopping is simply more thinking. This is pretty much identical to what is said in the poem, Faith in Mind by the Third Patriarch, Seng Can, 止動歸止, 止更彌動 : “Trying to stop movement to return to stillness, will cause that stopping (to become) even greater movement. This would be like “dropping the anchor and then starting to row.” Or as the Lotus Sutra says, “Trying to end suffering by creating more suffering.”

155. Ten thousand dharmas wanfa 萬法 nowhere wusuo 無所. I tend to use the translation “myriad” for wan, to emphasize that it really means “innumerable.” Master Sheng Yen’s translation says, “the ten thousand dharmas are everywhere.” He explains this line as a warning against a practitioner doubting the efficacy of his or her method. This is certainly a problem in Dharma practice. We always think that there is another method that will somehow get us to what we believe is a higher attainment. This can certainly be a trap. Normally fa would be translated as “dharma.” In English, Dharma with a capital “D” means the Buddha’s teaching. In Chinese there’s no orthographic distinction. Fa could also be translated as “phenomena.” However, considering Master Sheng Yen’s interpretation of the line, I chose “method,” which is consistent with what he is saying and is also a proper translation of fa. However, I read wusuo as “nowhere” or “nothing.” This might be considered the same as “everywhere,” in that there are

45 methods everywhere, but they are employed improperly. The interpretation of “nowhere” would amount to the same thing: Methods don’t exist if they are not employed properly. So, there is no method that will work unless it is practiced sincerely, wisely and with great effort. Thus, it can be understood as, “There is no place among ten thousand dharmas (where a proper method can be found, because methods don’t elicit true mind). Because, in the next line:

156. There only exists weiyou 惟有 one door yimen 一門. So, following the line above, this could be interpreted to mean that only by purposeful, dedicated practice that is free form desire and concepts can there be any progress. Master Sheng Yen’s heading for this section is called “Methods don’t get stale, people do.”

157. Not entering buru 不入 Not leaving buchu 不出. This line appears right after “one door,” so one might think that there is some irony in that there is a door, but it cannot be exited or entered. This would describe the “gateless gate,” a Zen metaphor for unblocking the illusory mind, because there is nothing to unblock. Also, this exiting and entering should really be understood in relationship to the line from the Heart Sutra - “This voidness of all dharmas is not born, not destroyed, not impure, not pure, does not increase or decrease.” This, too, is the boundless, non-arising mind, which is beyond conceptualization, so there is nothing that can be entered or exited from. Realizing this is to enter the one door, the only door there is, true mind. This line forms a pair with the next:

158. Not quiet feijing 非靜 Not loud (or noisy) feixuan 非喧. Like the line above, the description here is of the dualistic qualities of silence and noise. These are very apparent to us ordinary sentient beings, especially when they are sources of vexation: too noisy when you’re trying to read, to quiet when you feel like singing and dancing. A great practitioner is not be vexed by these conditions.

159. Shravakas shengwen 聲聞 (and) pratyekabuddhas yuanjue 緣覺. These are the “sound hearers” and the “solitary buddhas,” who reach a level of enlightenment that is considered inferior to that of bodhisattvas and of course, buddhas. There are many technical distinctions that could be discussed here, and all of the methods including Chan have much in

46 common, but suffice it to say that the practitioners mentioned here, according to the logic of Farong, would still have certain levels of attachment and “wrong view.” There is also the understanding that such practitioners practice for their own salvation and not that of others. This could be debated, but according to the writer’s understanding, and more importantly, because of his desire to help his students, these hierarchical distinctions must be understood.

160. Wisdom not zhibu 智不 able to discuss nenglun 能論. Teachings such as the “one door” and the invalidity of duality - no entering, no exiting, no silence, no noise, according to Mahayana understanding, would not be comprehensible or of interest to shravakas and pratyekabuddhas.

161. Actually not shiwu 實無 one thing yiwu 一物. This line is very straightforward - there really is nothing - not one thing, but what does it mean? It means that the idea of a discrete dharma, phenomenon, or thing is just that, only an idea. Because of the interconnected, dependent, impermanence of things, true reality would admit of no single separate thing anywhere. So nothing exists, independently. However, compare this line to line 3: 本無一法, fundamentally, not a single thing exists. The lines are identical except for a difference in the first character. What is the different between “fundamentally” and “in reality.” There may not be that much difference, but if you look at where these two lines appear, the first line seems, more informationally, if you will – in the sense, “here is something you should know,” and the second is more instructional, “this is something you can experience.”

162. Wondrous wisdom 妙智 miaowu alone exists ducun 獨存. Only wondrous wisdom exists. This is to say that mind, true, boundless mind, is the only thing that truly exists, and this stretches what it means to exist, which comes from the Latin existere "to step out, stand forth, emerge, appear; exist.” Given the all-pervasive nature of true mind, what could step or stand out? That’s why it’s wondrous - beyond conception and logic.

163. Original limit benji 本際 empty thoroughfare (or clash or rush) xuchong 虛衝. Master Sheng Yen translates this as “The original face is limitless.” The line describes

47 fundamental boundlessness that has no designated pathways. The original face, which is part of a famous koan or gungan, from the Platform Sutra, describes true nature, the vexationless, perceptionless, undistorted actuality of the universe and everything in it. I’m taking chong as a verb, because qiong in the next line seems to be a verb. It seems to imply “wishless (i.e., empty) traveling”: attending to sentient beings with no thought of self. Additionally, a frequent image in Buddhism is the “bird path,” which is a sign of an enlightened being. This appears in a koan by Dongshan and appears in the writings of Hongzhi, and in many other places. Here is a passage from the Large Sutra on Perfect Wisdom: “The Lord: Nothing real is meant by the word ‘Bodhisattva.’ And why? Unproduced is enlightenment, unproduced is a being, and so there is no trace of enlightenment, or of a being [anywhere]. That is why nothing real is meant by the word ‘enlightenment-being.’ What is meant by the word ‘Bodhisattva,’ that does not exist, that cannot be apprehended; just as in space, the track of a bird does not exist and cannot be apprehended;...” (Conze, 1975, p. 118). So I believe the “empty thoroughfare” here is a similar reference.

164. No mind feixin 非心 place exhausting suoqiong 所窮. I believe this references the deluded mind which simply cannot fathom the depths of wondrous wisdom. This line and the proceeding reach the end of any attempt to explain the unexplainable.

165. True (or correct) enlightenment (or awakening) zhengjue 正覺 is not enlightenment wujue 無覺. This could also be “True enlightenment is not enlightened” but I think the simple negation is right here. There are many examples of this kind of negation throughout the sutras. Here Farong is taking the ground from under our feet and removing any familiar reference points. Even enlightenment, which we would ordinarily think is goal of practice, may be a step in the wrong direction, especially if it’s only understood conceptually.

166. Real emptiness zhenkong 真空 is not empty (or emptiness) bukong.不空. As in the last line, a fundamental teaching that seems foundational is taken off the table. What are we left with then? That’s the question.

167. Three generations (past, present, and future) sanshi 三世 all buddhas zhufo 諸佛. Here Farong makes it clear that he is not simply expressing his point of view. The principle which he is pointing to is timeless, limitless, and understood and practiced by the buddhas, the most enlightened of all beings, in all places and all times.

168. All ride (or avail themselves of) jiecheng 皆乘 this teaching (doctrine or principle) cizong 此宗. Zong was also used in line 10 where first I translated it as teaching. There it was equated with what is missing or missed by a deluded mind. In this line zong is shown to be foundational to Buddhahood.

169. This teaching cizong 此宗 hair tip 毫末 haomo. This teaching really has no dimensionality or measurement in time or space. Once again using the word “teaching” is somewhat limited because, generally speaking, we tend to believe that a teaching can be “taught”. But zong, which also translates as doctrine or principle, cannot be taught in the conventional conceptual sense. So the metaphor of a tip of a hair, one of the smallest concepts of measurement in the ancient world, negates ideas we might have of big and small, powerful and weak. It is a teaching or doctrine that pervades the universe in great or tiny dimensions. Master Sheng Yen told an interviewer that the entire city of New York could run a marathon on a grain of sand. Mind is unlimited, concepts are illusory. This line also suggests that this teaching is not something far off and attainable. It is here at all times

170. Sands of the Ganges shana 沙界含容 contains (easily) hanrong. The line simply says “sands of the Ganges,” however this is a very common epithet for innumerable worlds (numbering greater than the sands of the Ganges). So the line signifies that the teaching from the above line (which is really the true, unarising mind) is limitless and contains all possible worlds. There is no time or distance limit on this reality.

171. Everything yichieh 一切 do not concern (or look after) mogu 莫顧. This line could easily be misunderstood, since it sounds callous or apathetic. Indeed there was a school of philosophy called 不顧論宗 “The School of Uncaring”- which was only about self-gratification

49 and not caring for others. The sentiment here is utterly different, because it is based on serious practice where the mind is not to attached to anything, but this is also coming from an understanding of non-self, so there is no self to gratify. This instruction makes perfect sense on a retreat where one is supposed to concentrate only on the mind, I tried to blunt the perception of not caring about anything, by translating it as “deliberating about nothing.” Deliberation is perhaps narrower than consideration, so I think there will be less likelihood of misunderstanding. This is really dispassionate detachment from concepts and all views of self.

172. Peaceful mind anxin 安心 no place (not dwelling) wuchu 無處. This could be interpreted as “If you want to have a peaceful mind, dwell nowhere.” This hearkens back to the Diamond Sutra which says 應無所住而生其心 “Abide nowhere and this mind will arise.” To abide means to self-identify with a place, a thing or a person, and regard that entity as fixed and unchanged. It could mean a place or a set of concepts. In any case, it points to attachment and the three poisons of desire, hatred and ignorance. If one’s mind doesn’t grasp such feelings, thoughts, emotions, images, etc. then only the true, unarising mind remains, or as the sutra says, it “arises.”

173. No place (or, no dwelling) wuchu 無處 peaceful mind anxin 安心. This line reinforces the line above and emphasizes the importance of “non-dwelling.”

174. Place (or, dwelling) in brightness chuming 處明 self reveal zilou 自露. The character chu appears in these last three lines. It is probably a verb in the first two lines, and a noun or adjective in this line. Master Sheng Yen translates this line. “Limitless brightness shows itself.” This brightness is true wisdom, so vexations and everything else are regarded as wisdom.

175. Silent calm jijing 寂靜, not arising, busheng 不生. In modern Chinese jijing just means quiet or silent, but in the seventh century CE, there may have been a different emphasis, so I translated it as “quiet and calm.” The busheng is a recapitulation from the first line of the poem, where it referred to the nature of mind as non-arising. At this point the student, who may

50 have been working for quite a long time on these teachings, will have a deeper understanding of the “the nature of mind” and “non-arising.”

176. Let go, vast 放曠 fangkuang warp and weft (horizontal and vertical) zongheng 縱橫. Once one realizes the silent, calm unarising nature of mind, he or she is free and unbound by space and time. Zongheng often convey dimensionality, which has now dissolved for the sage. There are no longer any reference points.

177. What (or place) doing suozuo 所作 no stagnation (or sluggishness) wuzhi 無滯. With a mind unbound, there are no attachments and no vexations, so response to any situation is characterized by equanimity, wisdom and compassion. Master Sheng Yen, talks about “the treasure of enlightenment” as “the richness of one whose mind is free.”

178. Going, staying quzhu 去住 all equal jieping 皆平. The enlightened practitioner is now no longer concerned about the conditions of a situation - whether it is starting or stopping, easy or difficult. He or she meets everything with equanimity and calm, which is also the meaning of ping.

179. Wisdom sun huiri 慧日 quiet jiji 寂寂. Master Sheng Yen explains that there are two kinds of wisdom, original and acquired. Original wisdom is the utter absence of self and it is unmoving. That is represented by the sun in this line. Acquired wisdom is where wisdom shines forth to help sentient beings. It is represented by the samadhi in the next line.

180. Samadhi light, dingguang 定光 bright bright mingming 明明. It is interesting to note the theme of silence and illumination that are contained in these lines. The sun of wisdom is silent, and samadhi (which is silent) is bright. This points to the nature of true mind which is silent (devoid of self referentiality and conceptuality) and characterized by penetrating clarity, which is represented by brightness.

181. Illuminating no (or not) zhao wu 照無 form garden xiangyuan 相苑. Even though I’m translating this as a garden (since it’s where things grow) it could also be a park and may refer to the Deer Park where Shakyamuni first preached. It may refer to a school or a monastery. No-form is also rich in meaning. This expression 一實無相 means “the one reality being indivisible is apart from all transient (or empty) forms, and is therefore styled the formless, e.g. the invisible.” The formless is also one of the three gates to nirvana 三涅槃門. The other two are emptiness and wishlessness. There is also 無相福田衣, “The garment of nothingness for cultivating the field of blessing,” i.e. the robe, which separates the monk from earthly contamination. In any case, formlessness, has been a theme throughout the poem. It describes the world as it exists without our ideas of how it exists. It is boundless and limitless. So a formless garden might be the ground of cultivation for dedicated practitioners. If Farong is speaking to his students at this point, I believe he is showing them the infinite potential of the practice. As the garden is formless, there is no place where it is not.

182. Bright on (or clear) lang 朗 nirvana niepan 涅槃 city cheng 城. Master Sheng Yen takes this line to be directed at arhats, and, I assume, pratyekabuddhas, beckoning them to abandon the nirvana of self-liberation and move towards the liberation of all beings that is advocated by Mahayana. I think these last two lines are once again lines of encouragement for the student on the verge of a breakthrough.

183. All conditions chuyuan 諸緣 forget and finish wangbi 忘畢. A condition is defined as something upon which something else depends. It is the most basic unit of conditioned dependence. The presence of sand is a condition for glass. The sun, soil, rain, etc. are conditions for a plant to grow. Two or more people would be the conditions for a relationship. One’s feelings about a particular subject would be a condition for study. When conditions are forgotten - that is transcended, this is the formless realm. Conditions would still be recognized by an enlightened being, but they would not be seen as goals or impediments, except in the pursuit of helping other sentient beings.

184. Explain (or all) spirit (or lively) quanshen 詮神 samadhi (or fixed) matter (or substance or nature or character dingzhi 定質. Definitely one of the most challenging lines in the poem. Master Sheng Yen’s translation is “Spirit is understood and settled in substance.” Guogu translated it as “The essence of the divine truth becomes tranquil.” Jess Row translated, “You can try to explain them in spiritual terms, to understand them in material terms.” Given the line above, and the parallelism is very instructive in figuring out the grammar, I believe the line is talking about mind and matter, which is not quite a Buddhist frame of reference, but close. Whereas I generally avoid using “spirit,” mind might be a little confusing here. The line might have to do with “form is not other than emptiness and emptiness not other than form.” That might be a stretch, but if forms (meaning anything identifiable by the deluded mind) are forgotten, then there would be little distinction between mind and matter. Master Sheng Yen explains this line to mean that enlightened beings still actively participate in the world “Spirit,” he writes, is the acquired wisdom with which enlightened beings respond to phenomena and sentient beings.

185. Not rising from buqi 不起 Dharma seat fazuo 法坐. Describes a bodhisattva’s commitment to sentient beings. At no time does he or she leave off the pursuit of other beings’ safety and happiness. Note that here, I translated fa as Dharma with a capital “D,” signifying the teaching and salvific activities of a buddha.

186. Peacefully sleeping anmian 安眠 empty room xushi 虛室. Peacefully sleeping points to the state of a fully enlightened being where all effort is put down. Dogen Zenji said that compassion comes naturally like rearranging your pillow when you’re half asleep. I was tempted to translate the last two characters as “dwelling in emptiness,” but that might be a contradiction in terms in Buddhism. Non-dwelling would be emptiness itself. But I think the sense is that “there’s no body home.” That is, nobody caught in delusion and vexation. The enlightened being has become a vessel of wisdom and compassion, but nothing can be detected. And the student can rest now.

187. Delighting in the Way ledao 樂道 unperturbed tianran 恬然. According to Master Sheng Yen, this is the joy that enlightened beings find in spreading the Dharma. He made it clear that with all of his travels and duties and the people that he met, he never felt stressed. He noted that what other people called vacations could be filled with tension and anxiety.

188. Excellent travel (or just, carefree) youyou 優遊 true (reality) zhenshi 真實. In modern Chinese youyou just means carefree, or leisurely, so it could be “carefree in reality.” I thought about writing, “A fine trip through reality,” but it’s too cut and dried, not to mention cute. It’s a little like: “row row row your boat, gently down the stream merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.” The Buddha did not say this, but it sounds good.

189. No action wuwei 無為 no getting wude 無得. Wuwei is a very familiar Daoist concept signifying according with the natural way of things, so that one doesn’t actually expend any real effort. This probably resonates with this line, but I think the Chan take on this is even more encompassing, because there are no forms, concepts, phenomena, etc. there is literally nothing to do because there’s nothing to do it to. Wuwei also means “unconditioned” in Buddhism, that is, beyond cause and effect, subject and object. “Not getting” is the natural state of non-dualism where there is nothing outside of you or me to get. An image that conveys this is that of someone passing a coin from his left to his right hand. There has really been no change in possession.

190. Relying on nothing yiwu 依無 naturally (or self) going out zichu 自出. For an enlightened being there is nothing outside of him or herself that is needed, so there is nothing to rely on. This is the nature of such beings’ freedom. In the Platform Sutra, this phrase appears as chushi 出世, which in modern Chinese would mean “being born” or “withdrawing from the world.” I could understand this as “withdrawing from the illusory world,” or “naturally coming out and interacting with the world.” I decided to take a leap of faith and say “engaging with the world.” I think this is implied.

191. The four immesurables sideng 四等 six paramitas liudu 六度 These are very important, foundational Buddhist practices. The four immeasurables, or infinite Buddha-states of mind, also the four equalities, or universals, acts or characteristics; they are: 慈無量心 boundless kindness, maitrī, or bestowing of joy or happiness; 悲無量心 boundless compassion, karuṇā, to save sentient beings from suffering; 喜無量心 boundless joy, muditā, on seeing others rescued from suffering; 捨無量心 limitless equanimity, upekṣā, treating all things equally. The six paramitas 六度 are the six things that ferry one beyond the sea of mortality to nirvana, i. e., the six pāramitās 六波羅蜜 (波羅蜜多): (1) 布施 dāna, charity, or giving, including the bestowing of the truth on others; (2) 持戒 śīla, having discipline and keeping the commandments; (3) 忍辱 kṣānti, patience in receiving insult; (4) 精進 vīrya, zeal and progress; (5) 闡定 dhyāna, meditation or contemplation; (6) 智慧 prajñā; wisdom, the power to discern reality or truth.

192. Together with one tungyi 同一 vehicle road chenglu 乘路. This line directly relates to the one above, which mentions the Four Immeasurables and the Six Paramitas. By implication this would include any number of different teachings from the four noble truths to the twelve links of dependent origination. Master Sheng Yen points out that for enlightened beings there is but one Dharma, one door, as the poem said earlier. I’m not certain if the one vehicle should be capitalized to imply the one vehicle of the Lotus Sutra (not that it actually needs to be capitalized). I think it pretty much amounts to same thing. This one vehicle is all inclusive, but formless, which seems to be Farong’s implication.

193. Mind if xinruo 心若 no rise (born) busheng 不生. These next six lines seem to be a final exhortation to the student. The poem began explaining the nature of mind - that it is non- arising. However, it’s one thing to declare it and quite another to realize it. Now Farong is encouraging the student to make this great leap, “stepping off the hundred foot pole,” and witness this state for him or herself and then:

194. No dharma fawu 法無 differs mutually (from each other) chahu 差互. Remember that dharma means anything that can be imagined, as it says in the Lankavatara Sutra. These characters could be translated as “no thing differs from another thing,” or “nothing differs from anything else,” or “No method differs from another method.” One could also substitute “phenomena” here. At this point everything that would appear to an ordinary sentient being’s mind is understood to be nothing more than a projection of the mind. The mind, as a movie screen, is not ultimately affected by what it reflects. It is just images and concepts, which may have seemed to arise, sustain, and fall away, but even that process was an illusion. This is the point of formlessness, emptiness, and wishlessness - it fulfills or opens these doors of enlightenment.

195. Know arising, zhisheng 知生 is not arising wusheng 無生. Further elaborating on no dharma being any different from another, now Farong says the whole process of conceptualization is false, as in the first line of the poem, “the nature of mind is non-arising.” There is arising. What is its nature? Non-arising. Non-arising doesn’t arise, either. This is only a seeming contradiction or conundrum for us ordinary sentient beings.

196. Appearing in front xianqian 現前 always stays changsheng 常住. Everything that is described in the poem is present at this moment in the place where you are and where I am. This never varies. It is always dwelling here, but at this point it would be wise to ask what “it” is and what “dwelling” means.

197. One who is wise zhizhe 智者 knows (or realizes) fangzhi 方知. In modern Chinese fangzhi can mean “to know for the first time,” or “realize only then.” So the line to seems to imply “will have this moment of realization, when the characteristics of dharmas are no longer operative and there is no arising, sustaining, or ceasing.

198. No words feiyen 非言 explain enlightenment quanwu 詮悟. This has nothing to do with vocabulary or turn of phrase or the adequacy of the writer. All of the lines of the poem simply point to something. But what is it? In his commentary on this line, Master Sheng Yen

56 tells us, “everything I have said is not true.” In that case, what I have written here is many multiple times less true.