英語訳
## [Right Page]
The Nagasaki Magistrate, Tachibana Masanobu (橘正述), memorialized the authorities requesting that the Master be permitted to remain and take up residence. A man by the name of Bokutan-ken (濮澹軒) composed a poem titled "Song of No Return" (不帰の歌), carried his book-box on his back, and followed Dai-shi Mankō eastward toward the Land of the Rising Sun.
The following year (Kōgo, 1654), in the seventh month, the Venerable Fushō Kokushi (普照国師) crossed east in response to an invitation and greatly exercised his dharmic authority. The Master lamented that his age was approaching sixty and reflected on how little time remained. With firm resolve, he cast off his white (lay) garments, determined to spend his remaining years in full, and petitioned for ordination. He returned to the seat of the National Master (Fushō) and had his head shaved and received the dyed robes of a monk. This was on the eighth day of the twelfth month of that same year. His Buddhist name (posthumous name, *imi-na*) was Shōeki (性易), his style name (*azana*) was Dokuryu (独立), and his pen name (号) was Tenka Ikkanmin (天下一間人, "The One Remaining Person Under Heaven").
The Master said: "To cast off Confucianism and return to Buddhism is to respond to the radiance of the single, undivided nature. To walk about in a rough mountain robe with sleeves dangling is perhaps laughable, but there is nothing to be done about it. In the dream of the blue sky and bright sun, I shall mix with the dust." He encompassed both Confucian and Buddhist learning and was widely versed in the classical texts. Those of discernment said he was "in the lineage of Echi (慧地), second only to him."
In the eighth month of Meireki Kinoto-Hitsuji (明暦乙未, 1655), he served in attendance at Fumon (普門) and took charge of the secretariat. In the ninth month of the first year of Manji (万治元年, Tsuchinoe-Inu, 1658), he accompanied the National Master to the east (Edo), and among the officials and leading figures of Jōshiro (武城, Edo), there was none who did not express admiration for how the Master's talent and virtue surpassed those of his contemporaries. The Senior Councillor (Rōjū) Minamoto no Nobutsuna (源信綱, i.e., Matsudaira Nobutsuna) and the official Minamoto no Masashige (源正重) wished the Master to take up permanent residence, but circumstances prevented this from coming to fruition.
In the second year of Manji (1659,己亥), the Master returned to Nagasaki on account of illness. In the year Kōshi (庚子, 1660), he entered Kansai (the capital region), and spent three years in sojourn at Genki-zan (幻寄山). Shortly after leaving Kansai, he suffered a fire. This occurred on the eighth day of the third month of the third year of Kanbun (寛文三年, 1663, Mizunoto-U).
After this, he settled wherever circumstance led him, without restriction, broadly ministering to those of the same path, actively distributing medicine without regard to direction, and was acclaimed throughout the country as a divine healer. He once said: "Saving people and relieving all beings is the fundamental practice of the Bodhisattva; one must apply oneself according to the needs of the moment." In the art of calligraphy, he pressed close to the ancient masters with upright, powerful brushwork, containing spiritual radiance within it; those who obtained even a scrap of paper or a single character from him treasured it like ink traces of Zhong Yao (鍾繇) or Wang Xizhi (王羲之). These, too, were items of supreme quality.
In the spring of Kinoto-Mi (乙巳, 1665), when the Venerable Seppō Sokhi (雪峰即非和尚) founded the temple at Kōjuzan (広寿山) in Bungo Province, the Eastern Master invited the Venerable Dokuryu to come in his palanquin, leaving the senior seat open to await him. The Master fluttered off thither without hesitation, sparing not his fading breath, giving his utmost in effort. The lord of Bungo, moved that the Master, though old, was so diligently devoted, specially erected a quiet chamber in the mountains as a place of repose; the Master himself inscribed it "Hakuun-shitsu" (白雲室, "White Cloud Chamber").
Thereafter, while journeying to pay respects to the National Master, he fell ill along the way and turned back, sending his attendant disciple Somei (祖命) in his stead. Normally he had a hearty appetite, unchanged from his vigorous years; but around this time his intake diminished somewhat. Those around him urged him to take medicine, but he would not listen, saying: "This body is not ill—what need is there for medicine?" He lay abed and amused himself composing and chanting verse. Then one morning he suddenly rose and sat up, called for brush and paper, and wrote:
> *Kaku-kaku, chin-chin, in the village amid the sea's dust—*
> *I cannot forget the fading dream that circles the empty veranda.*
> *Hah! Let it be—the shadow of the plum blossom broken by the freeze.*
> *And yet the soul of white jade from the south of the Yangtze reaches me still.*
When he had finished writing, he passed away quietly.
## [Left Page]
His countenance was as though alive; the pair of jade-like arms stretched out a foot and more. All present were astonished and struck with grief, mourning without end. He was seventy-seven years of age; his years since ordination were nineteen. This was truly on the sixth day of the eleventh month, in the winter of the twelfth year of Kanbun (寛文十二年壬子, 1672).
The day before his passing, he summoned the Venerable Senkai (千呆和尚) to Kōzen-an (広善庵) and entrusted him with his final affairs, saying: "What time is it right now?" Senkai replied: "At noon, three watches are being struck." The Master laughed aloud: "Ha, ha!" The Venerable Senkai thereupon rose and at the last performed the rites of cremation. The cremation (jāyi) took place at Shōjuzan (聖寿山). The attendant Emyō (慧明) escorted the sacred bones and they were interred at Ōbakusan (黄檗山).
There exist several volumes of collected works under the name "Tengai Rōjin" (天外老人, "Old Man Beyond the Heavens").
Alas! It has already been forty-seven years since my Master departed this world. To this day I have harbored my heartfelt wish in vain and have fallen most grievously short of repaying his great kindness. My accumulated shame and remorse are beyond reckoning. Unexpectedly, in the twelfth month of Kichū (己丑, 1709), I received from afar the letter of invitation, and setting out carefully both by night and day, I passed through into Kōin (庚寅, 1710) and arrived directly in Edo (武城) in the second month. On the first day of the third month, I was granted an audience in the great hall and commanded to enter the Hanlin Academy (翰林). Reflecting that my person had now been chosen for this honor, my concern was that there remained no place to enshrine the Master's image; I spoke of wishing for a few beams' worth of a modest hall, and only Minamoto no Tamemasa (源為政) heard this and approved, saying, "That can be arranged."
"Ten or so *ri* beyond the capital and Lake Lu (卥), there is a great temple in Musashi Province (武州). The mountain is called Kinpōzan (金鳳山), the temple Heirinji (平林寺). It was rebuilt by the late Lord of Izu, Minamoto no Nobutsuna (源信綱, i.e., Matsudaira Nobutsuna). The wild fields were cleared, pine and cedar trees planted; water was drawn from the Tamagawa River, winding and branching into separate channels to supply the kitchen and the bathhouse, and even in years of drought it never ran dry, benefiting everyone. In the north corner of the sub-temple Renpōken (聨芳軒), there is a plot of vacant land where a hall could be built."
The resident head priest, Zen Master Unpō (雲峰禅師), and his senior teacher, the Venerable Mokuun (黙雲和尚), discussed and approved the plan. Craftsmen were then assembled, lumber was measured and bundled and transported; an auspicious day was chosen for the raising of the ridgepole, and the hall rose facing east, wing-like in appearance, a modest structure of merely three bays (*san-ei*), its roof covered with rough material and its walls plastered with white clay. It was completed without delay. The day was the seventh of the third month of Shōtoku Hei-shin (正徳丙申, 1716).
The hall was inscribed "Taikeidō" (戴渓堂). In the center was enshrined a cast-metal image of the Great Being (Kannon Bodhisattva), as an object of veneration and homage to the founding Master. On the left, the Master's portrait was reverently installed and offered worship. The inscribed plaque reading "Baika Kan-shu" (梅花関主, "Master of the Plum Blossom Barrier") was a piece of calligraphy bestowed by Fushō Kokushi, commemorating the Master's three years of sitting in retreat (*sōkan*).
Alas! Had the times not been blessed with such favor, and had the light of the lord's grace not shone upon us, how could we have extended this far and made the Master's memory known to the world? Looking back, all those who formerly shared in the work alongside me have departed, one after another; now I alone remain. My years, too, have grown old, but while some measure of spirit and will remains, I have sought to carry out even a small part of this undertaking. In deep reverence, I reflect that my Master's words of loyal indignation throughout his life—passionately held and unable to be published—number no fewer than several dozen compositions. I now bring them briefly to light.