Ziyong’s Last Teaching
From Ziyong Ru Chanshi Yulu ( The Discourse Records of Chan Master Ziyong Ru, translated by Beata Grant) Ziyong Chengru, Linji, China, known as “Ship of Compassion”and “Universal Compassion” born 1645, successor of Gulu Fan)
Master Ziyong Chengru was dying, and her disciple, the nun Jinxuan, was very anxious. Ziyong said to her, “From the beginning there has been neither birth nor death – so what nirvana will there be?”
But Jingxuan’s grief continued.
Ziyong then gave a shout, and Jinxuan went into a state of deep meditation. Ziyong called her out of it and asked, ”At this moment is there any nirvana, or is there not any nirvana?”
Jingxuan said, “Your disciple from the beginning has experienced neither birth nor death, so what nirvana can there be?”
Ziyong said, “This is what it is like before the dream.”
Jingxuan asked, "What is it like after the dream?”
Ziyong said, “when you are in a dream, you still speak the language of dreams.”
Additional sayings and poems of Ziyong:
The Dharma does not rise up alone – it can’t emerge without reliance on the world. If I take up the challenge of speaking I must surely borrow the light and the dark, the form and the emptiness of the mountains and hills and the great earth, the call of the magpies and the cries of the crows. The water flows and the flowers blossom, brilliantly preaching without ceasing. In this way there is no restraint.
Ten Verses Presented on the Occasion of a Gathering in the Capital of My Disciples to See Me Off
Yesterday my disciples spoke to me of the grief of separation
As they poured out the endless sorrow that was in their hearts.
I’ve ordered the flowers in the courtyard not to be too anxious,
Lest they startle the pearly dewdrops on the autumn blooms.
I bought myself a light boat in anticipation of going south.
A bright moon fills my breast; my empty heart feels foolish!
In front of the cliffs, hidden birds sing out time and again,
Saying, “When you reach the south, consult the fifty-three!”
Last night the numinous blossom in my dream split in two;
But when I awoke, it was as before—vast and without a trace.
A heavenful of luminous moon, as clear as if just bathed;
The jade waters of the Yan hills all lift the traveler’s spirits.
Do not slight the lazy and foolish: both come from no mind.
Clouds emerge without thinking, birds just sing their songs.
The wind pierces the flowers’ shimmer, their fragrance so fine.
What need to seek for anything more than surprises like these!
It is just that I love the Yan Mountains and their jade waters,
Where clear breezes and bright moon complement each other.
The birds in the trees know how things will turn out in the end;
Flying close to my carriage, from afar they seal a vow with me.
A skiff of a boat floats in the vastness under the bright moon;
In northern lands or southern skies the landscape is the same.
Stop nattering on, my disciples, about how fond of me you are;
When fall comes, you can expect the geese to return as before.
Two sleevefuls of springtime light as I leave the Forbidden City;
One breastful of anxious thoughts poured out toward the south.
The mountains of Yan on my mind as grieving clouds thicken,
But if you wait until high autumn, then its colors will become clear.
The lightweight sail hangs high among the five-colored clouds;
Ten thousand miles of road to travel, as far as the eye can see.
Its two banks of reed flowers reach beyond the edge of the sky;
The sun’s glow rises above me at the gateway to the eastern sea.
A willow-colored overcoat reminds me it is a cold time of year;
And peach reds still recall the sorrowful feelings of separation.
Filling all the world’s jade waters, one bright moon in the sky;
If you stay and wait on Golden Terrace, you can see it very well.
The Chan mind is not solitary, as clouds in the wilds know;
Reed moon and plum blossom, to whom can I send them?
The sorrow of parting is meaningful and so hard to dismiss;
But if the way is in tune with no-mind, it will go as it should.
