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一揆超琛 Yikui Chaochen (1625–1679)
This image appears on the first page of her collection of discourse records,
Cantong Yikui Chaochen chanshi yulu 參同一揆禪師語錄,
reprinted in the Jiaxing Dazangjing (Jiaxing Buddhist Canon).
40 Volumes. (Taipei: Xinwenfeng chubanshe, 1987) vol. 39, p. 7.
 Tartalom |
 Contents |
Keller Mirella: A XVII. századi Cantong chan kolostor története, |
PDF: Female Holder of the Lineage: Linji Chan Master 祇園行剛 Zhiyuan Xinggang (1597-1654) PDF: Daughters of Emptiness: poems of Chinese Buddhist nuns PDF: Selected Translations and Analysis of ‘Further Biographies of Nuns’ PDF: Eminent Nuns: Women Chan Masters of Seventeenth-Century China PDF: Chan Friends: Poetic Exchanges between Gentry Women and Buddhist Nuns in Seventeenth-Century China |
PDF: Daughters of Emptiness: poems of Chinese Buddhist nuns
by Beata Grant
2003
YIKUI (1625–79) was one of the seven Dharma heirs of Master Xinggang.
The great-granddaughter of a Minister of Justice and the daughter of a
scholar-painter, Yikui had two sisters and two brothers, one of whom,
Zilin, would play a particularly central role in her life. Yikui was by all
accounts a precociously intelligent girl, who not only mastered the
feminine arts of sewing and embroidery, but also excelled in the arts of
painting and poetry writing. She married a young scholar and apparently
fulfilled all of the requirements of a good wife and daughter-in-law
happily and successfully. In the fall of 1648, however, her husband, with
whom she had a companionate marriage, passed away, leaving Yikui a
widow at the age of twenty-three.
After her husband’s death, Yikui retreated to her room, where she
remained in seclusion, eating a minimal vegetarian diet and engaging in
single-minded Buddha-recitation (nianfo). Later, she became interested in
Chan meditation and sought out the guidance of Master Xinggang, under
whom she eventually took ordination. Yikui lived for a few years at the
Crouching Lion Convent, but after Master Xinggang’s death, moved into a
lovely hermitage located on the river bank, which had been built for her
by her brother Zilin and which was named Cantong Cloister, or “Cloister
of Investigating Commonality.” The cloister quickly developed into a
fairly large establishment, and Master Yikui attracted a great number of
disciples.
This seemingly idyllic life came to an abrupt end in 1667 when, seven
years after taking over the leadership of the Crouching Lion Convent,
Master Xinggang’s designated successor and Yikui’s Dharma sister,
Yigong, fell ill from exhaustion and overwork. Not long after, the fortysix-
year-old Yigong passed away, but not before formally designating
Yikui as her successor. After six tiring but productive years as abbess of
the Crouching Lion, Yikui moved back to her beloved hermitage, where
she died in 1679 at the age of fifty-four. Her own collection of religious
discourses and other writings was compiled several years before her
death.Mourning My Teacher, the Venerable Nun Qiyuan [Xinggang]
After submitting myself to her rigorous training for several years,
A midday dream shattered awake, tears not yet wiped away.
Alas, why did I have to be separated from my teacher so soon?
The family pine tree has grown still and knows no sorrow.Since when have spring and fall passed without me serving her?
I find myself imitating the birds crying over the fallen branches.
Brokenhearted, I listen as again and again they return my calls,
Then silently I shut the brushwood gate against the wind and rain.
An Elegy for Elder Dharma Sister Yigong
Half dreaming, half awake, sorrowfully I listen to the morning bell,
In vain I wipe away tears of blood that stain the boat and the maples.
I think back on how together we sang the songs of the birthless,
Why is it, then, that the wind now seems to blow a different tune?
Unable to Sleep Because of a Cold
My whole body burns with fever, I cannot keep from coughing,
Rising, I sit, my robes pulled about me; my breath slowly clears.
As I emerge from a state of samadhi the hourglass has run out;
All I hear is the sound of neighbors’ dogs barking in the town.
Summer Retreat
Ninety days of staying put and yet one can find moments of leisure,
Trying to make out a tattered sutra, I read under the light of the moon.
Although I have ears, I hear nothing of the dusty affairs of the world;
A fragrant breeze slips through the door as I think of the lofty sages.Ashamed of my meager talents, I flee the world to ancient streams,
Nursing my illness, all day long I keep the double-shuttered gate closed.
The vines and creepers grow thick and dense, and no one comes;
Sometimes the forest birds and I discuss methods of self-cultivation.I watch unmoved as waves recede and Dharma gates fall into disrepair,
I draw a circle on the ground within which I will hide myself away.
Suddenly the summer begins to draw to a close, and fall comes again;
It is only recently that I have mastered the art of being a complete fool.
Chan Meditation
Once the layered gates are shattered, any place is a place of tranquility,
Once the mind becomes unattached to things, all things become pure.
In moments of leisure, I sit upright in the shade of the pine tree,
Watching as the toad in the moon slowly rises to hover in the east.When one freely speaks of the Dharma, the heavenly flowers fall,
When one deliberates and debates, one is only confused by things.
With the right opportunity and good fortune nothing is impossible,
Knocking on emptiness, extracting the marrow, becomes a way of life.How wonderfully sublime to discuss mysteries layered like clouds,
It is truly rare to meet someone who can be called a kindred soul.
The red stove blazes forth with an extraordinary determination,
As if it possessed the karmic power to turn the Dharma wheel.This toiling life disordered and confused by lust, greed, and anger,
But when the mind-flower suddenly opens, the world becomes spring.
Melting snow to boil water for tea, I while away the entire day,
Feeling inside as vast and expansive as the icy-cold moon above.A tiny boat in the moonlight stirs up foam-flowers on the water,
Blossoming water lilies send across their fragrances in the dark.
Hearing, seeing, knowledge, and consciousness are all one dharma,
Now this nun can afford to be lazy and let her hair grow long.
Inscribed on a Mirror
We meet and scrutinize each other, I confront my own nature;
If within there is no self, then each and every thing is intimate.
I am fond of this mirror, which like autumn water is completely clear,
Always the same, whether reflecting the face of a foreigner or a Chinese.
To My Chan Companion, Dongyun
The ancient hall stands tall and proud, completely renewed,
Locked inside the caves and clouds is a kindred soul.
Burning incense, sitting silently, you are completely at ease,
The words of a tongueless person are the most novel of all.All her life, this “fellow” has been as tough as nails,
Once I dug my heels in, I could not be moved.
At twenty-four, I first found out about this matter
And for ten years struggled to forget outward appearances.
At forty-nine, I cut myself loose from this suffering world
And could see through mundane affairs as if through water.
I’d got to the truth of things and could leave when I wished,
But I stuck to my labors for seven more seasons of spring.
Now in front of your eyes, the iron nails will turn to dust,
And the four great elements will disperse like wind and fire.
When leaves fall, one knows autumn has come,
Now is the time for me to return to the source.
Ha, ha, ha!
Footloose and fancy-free — that’s me!
