永嘉證道歌

Do you not see!

The one who has done with study, doing nothing, the idle person of the Way

Does not cast out deluded thoughts, nor seek the True

The true nature of ignorance is itself Buddha-nature

The illusory, empty body is itself the Dharma-body

When the Dharma-body is awakened, there is not a single thing

The original source, the self-nature, is the natural, true Buddha

The five aggregates are drifting clouds that come and go in vain

The three poisons are water-bubbles that sink and surface in the void

When one realizes the true mark, there is neither person nor dharma

In a single instant the karma of the Avīci hell is destroyed

If with false speech I should deceive sentient beings

May my tongue be torn out for kalpas as numerous as dust-grains

In sudden awakening one comprehends the Tathāgata's Chan

The Six Pāramitās and the myriad practices are complete and perfectly fused in essence

While dreaming, one clearly sees the six destinies

But once awakened, all is empty—there is no Great Thousandfold World

There is no sin, no merit, no loss, no gain

In the nature of quiescent extinction, do not ask or seek

Until now the dust upon the mirror had never once been wiped

Today I must explain and analyze it thoroughly

Who is it that is without thought? Who is it that is unborn?

If one is truly unborn, then there is nothing that is born

Summon a wooden puppet and ask it the principle above

When one diligently cultivates the Buddha-Way, sooner or later one will attain it

Release the four great elements, do not grasp and hold

Eat and drink as conditions allow, in the nature of quiescent extinction

All formations are impermanent, all is empty

This is precisely the Tathāgata's great perfect enlightenment

These words reveal the True Vehicle

Whoever does not agree, let him ask freely

Pointing directly to the root and source that the Buddha sealed

Parting leaves to search for branches—that I cannot do

The wish-fulfilling jewel that people do not recognize

Can indeed be obtained within the Tathāgatagarbha

The six kinds of supernatural powers are both empty and not-empty

The perfect jewel shines brilliantly, with form and yet formless

Purify the Five Eyes and one gains the Five Powers

Only by realizing it directly can the hard-to-fathom be known

The shapes within a mirror—where is the difficulty in seeing them?

But the moon beneath the water—how can one scoop it up?

Ever walking alone, ever pacing alone

Those who have realized it walk together the road to Nirvāṇa

The ancient melody rings with a clear, lofty tone

The gaunt frame, the upright mind—who cares to gaze upon it?

The disciple of the Buddha calls himself poor

In truth his body is poor, but in the Way he is not poor

Because he is poor, his body always wears patched robes

But the Way within—his hidden, priceless treasure

The priceless treasure he uses inexhaustibly

Benefiting beings, responding to their capacities, never grudging

The Three Bodies and Four Wisdoms are complete and perfectly fused in essence

The Eight Liberations and Six Powers are the seal upon the mind-ground

Those of highest faculties hear one thing and understand all

Those of middle and lower faculties study much yet harbor much doubt

One need only cast off the soiled garments

Why go about boasting and parading one's diligence?

Let others slander, let others scorn

Holding fire to burn the sky, they only bring themselves suffering

When I hear it, it is like drinking sweet ambrosia

Melted away, suddenly entering the inconceivable

When one contemplates malicious words as merit

These very words become a good spiritual friend

Do not, because of blame and reproach, give rise to enmity and resentment

How else could the power of the unborn forbearance be made manifest?

The teaching is mastered and the doctrine is mastered

Concentration and wisdom, perfect and luminous, do not stagnate in emptiness

It is not I alone who today understand this

Buddhas as numerous as the Ganges' sands are all the same in essence

The lion's roar—the fearless teaching

When the hundred beasts hear it, their skulls and brains are split apart

The fragrant elephant flees in panic, its majesty undone

Gods and dragons listen in silence and give rise to joy

Crossing rivers and seas, climbing mountains and streams

Seeking masters and inquiring of the Way, for the sake of Chan practice

From the moment I came to know the road to Caoxi

I understood at last that birth and death are of no concern

Walking is Chan, sitting too is Chan

Speaking or silent, moving or still, the essence remains serene

Even meeting sword and blade, one stays calm and unmoved

Even taking poison, one remains at ease

My teacher of old met Dīpaṃkara Buddha

For many kalpas he was the Sage of Forbearance

How many times born? How many times died?

Birth and death stretch on without end, without fixed bound

Since suddenly awakening and realizing the unborn

Why must glory and disgrace bring sorrow or joy?

Entering the deep forest, dwelling in stillness

Living in seclusion on the high mountain, beneath the ancient pine

At leisure, sitting quietly, the wild monk's abode

In tranquil solitude, dwelling at peace—truly carefree

When awakened, one understands at once, without exertion

All conditioned dharmas are not the same as this

Giving while attached to marks gives rise to heavenly blessings

It is like shooting an arrow into the void

When the force is spent, the arrow falls to the ground

Bringing about a future life that is not as one wishes

Better the unconditioned Gate of the True Mark

In a single step one enters straight into the Tathāgata's ground

Only grasp the root—why fret over the branches?

Like pure lapis lazuli holding the precious moon

Once you comprehend the wish-fulfilling jewel

Benefiting self and benefiting others, never exhausted

The moon shines upon the river, the wind blows through the pines

Through the long, clear, quiet night—what is there to do?

The jewel of the Buddha-nature precepts, the seal upon the mind-ground

Mist, dew, clouds, and haze are donned as one's robe

The bowl that subdues dragons, the staff that parts tigers

The two rings of golden hooks ring and clatter

These are not Dharma-vessels without trace or origin

The Tathāgata's pewter staff, personally transmitted

Neither seeking the True nor cutting off the false

Clearly knowing the two dharmas: empty and markless

Markless, not empty, not not-empty

This is precisely the Tathāgata's true mark

The mind-mirror shines and illuminates without hindrance

Brilliantly penetrating the boundless worlds of dust-grains

The myriad forms and ten thousand appearances manifest within it

The perfect jewel shines brilliantly—neither inside nor outside

To fall into emptiness, denying cause and effect

Reckless and unrestrained, one invites calamity and disaster

To abandon being and grasp at non-being is the same sickness

It is like fleeing drowning only to leap into the fire

To cast off the deluded mind and hold to truth

This casting-off and holding-on makes the mind contrived and false

The student who does not understand this in cultivation

Sincerely mistakes the thief for his beloved son

Wasting the Dharma-wealth, destroying the merit

All of it comes from the discriminating mind-consciousness

Therefore the Chan gate severs the mind

Suddenly entering the power of the unborn knowledge and vision

The great hero wields the sword of wisdom

The blade of wisdom, sharp and keen, flashing like vajra

It not only smashes the minds of the heretics

But long ago made the heavenly demons tremble in terror

Sounding the Dharma-thunder, beating the Dharma-drum

Drawing forth the clouds of compassion, sprinkling sweet ambrosia

Where the dragon and elephant tread, the moisture spreads without bound

The Three Vehicles and Five Natures all awaken

On the Snow Mountains grows the soft, lush grass

The pure refined ghee—I often taste it

One nature perfectly penetrates all natures

One dharma encompasses all dharmas

One moon appears in all the waters

The moon in all the waters is the one moon reflected

The Dharma-body of all Buddhas enters my nature

My nature is at one and merged with the Tathāgata

One stage fully contains all stages

Neither form, nor mind, nor karmic action

A snap of the fingers perfects the eighty-four thousand gates

In an instant, three immeasurable kalpas are utterly destroyed

No number nor word can describe it

What has it to do with my spiritual awareness?

It cannot be blamed, it cannot be praised

Its essence is like empty space, without bound or limit

Never leaving its place, it is ever still and clear

Even if you wish to seek it, you cannot find it anywhere

It cannot be grasped, it cannot be released

In the unattainable, what is there to attain?

Silent while speaking, speaking while silent

The gate of great giving is flung open, never locked shut

If someone asks me what doctrine I expound

I say it is the power of the Great Wisdom of Crossing Over

Whether right or wrong, people do not understand

Going against or going along—even the heavens find it hard

I have long since cultivated through many kalpas

This is no idle deception, no mutual deceit

Raising the Dharma-banner, establishing the doctrinal teaching

The Buddha's command shines clearly at Caoxi

Kāśyapa, the first, was the first to receive the transmission of the lamp

Through twenty-eight generations in the Western Heaven

The Dharma flowed eastward into this land

Bodhidharma was the first patriarch

For six generations the robe was transmitted, as all the world knows

How can one count those of later generations who attain the Way?

The True is not established, the false is fundamentally empty

Sweep away both being and non-being—even the empty is empty

The twenty gates of emptiness—from the start, do not cling to them

The one nature of the Tathāgata is the same in essence

Mind is the root, dharmas are the dust

Both are like marks upon a mirror

When the soiled marks are wiped clean, the brightness gradually appears

When both mind and dharmas are forgotten, the nature is the True

Alas, the Age of the Dharma's Decline! An evil time and world!

Sentient beings of thin blessings are hard to discipline

Far removed from the Sages, deep in wrong views

The demons strong, the Dharma weak, much enmity and harm

Hearing the Tathāgata's gate of sudden teaching

They hate not having destroyed it, as one shatters broken tiles

Created by the mind, the body suffers

Do not cry injustice and lay the blame on others

If you wish not to incur the karma of the Avīci hell

Do not slander the Tathāgata's wheel of the True Dharma

The sandalwood forest holds no inferior trees

Dense and luxuriant, the lions dwell there

In the still depths of the forest, one wanders alone

Birds in flight and beasts on the run all keep their distance

The lion cubs follow behind

At three years old they already roar fiercely

Even if a jackal should mimic the King of Dharma

A hundred years of monstrous howling with a gaping maw

The perfect and sudden teaching has no human sentiment

If there is doubt or hesitation, it must be resolved

It is not that this mountain monk loves self and other

But in cultivation one fears falling into the pit of annihilation or eternalism

The wrong is not wrong, the right is not right

A hair's breadth astray, and one loses by a thousand miles

When right, the dragon-girl suddenly became a Buddha

When wrong, Sunakṣatra fell into hell

In my youth I sought after learning

I too pored over commentaries and studied the sūtras and treatises

Distinguishing names and marks without knowing when to stop

Entering the sea to count the sands, I only wearied myself

I deserved the Tathāgata's scolding and reproach

Counting another's treasures—what good does it do?

Long had I been bewildered, practicing in vain and falsity

For so many years I was uselessly a guest of wind and dust

When one's spiritual lineage is wrong and one's understanding is mistaken

One does not reach the Tathāgata's perfect and sudden teaching

The Two Vehicles are diligent but lack the mind of the Way

The heretics are clever but without wisdom

They are also foolish, also childish

Mistaking the empty fist as holding something, they take it for true wisdom

Grasping the finger for the moon, they truly waste their effort

The realms of the six senses appear empty and false

When one sees not a single dharma, that is the Tathāgata

Then one may be called the Sovereign Observer

When one understands that karmic hindrances are originally empty

But when one has not understood, the debts must surely be repaid

Famished, meeting a royal feast, who dares to eat?

Sick, meeting the king of physicians—how could one fail to be healed?

Practicing Chan amid desire is the power of knowledge and vision

In the fire the lotus grows and is never destroyed

Vīraduṣṭa broke the grave precepts yet awakened to the unborn

Long ago he became a Buddha and is present even now

The lion's roar, the fearless teaching

Alas for the barbarous, the deluded ones

They know only that breaking the precepts obstructs Bodhi

They do not see the Tathāgata revealing the secret key

There were two monks who committed lust and killing

The venerable Upāli, with his firefly-light, tightened their guilt

The great being Vimalakīrti at once dispelled their doubt

It was like the fierce sun melting the frost and snow

The power of inconceivable liberation

Its wondrous functions, numerous as the Ganges' sands, are utterly without limit

The four kinds of offerings he never refused as too hard

Ten thousand taels of yellow gold he could exhaust as well

Grinding one's bones and pulverizing one's flesh is not enough to repay

Comprehending a single phrase surpasses a hundred million

The king among dharmas, supreme and lofty

Tathāgatas numerous as the Ganges' sands have all realized it together

I now comprehend the wish-fulfilling jewel

All who faithfully receive it are in accord

I see very clearly that there is not a single thing

There is no person, and there is no Buddha

The Great Thousandfold worlds of sand are like sea-foam

All the saints and sages are like flashes of lightning

Even if a wheel of iron should spin upon my head

Concentration and wisdom, perfect and luminous, are never lost

Though the sun grow cold and the moon turn hot

The hosts of demons cannot destroy the true teaching

The high elephant-carriage advances slowly

Has anyone seen a mantis block its path?

The great elephant does not travel the hare's trail

Great awakening does not cling to petty matters

Do not gaze at the sky through a hollow reed

If anyone here does not yet understand, I will explain it clearly

The Song of Enlightenment