−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−¦¦−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−− Upajāti
(Sālā)
brahmarṣi-rājarṣi-surarṣi-juṣṭaḥ
puṇyaḥ samīpe himavān hi śailaḥ
|
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−¦¦−−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−−
tapāṁsi
tāny-eva tapo-dhanānāṁ yat-saṁnikarṣād-bahulī-bhavanti
|| 7.39
7.39
For
near to us,
inhabited
by brahmin seers, king-seers, and god-seers,
Rises a holy Himālayan mountain
[or a pleasant snow-clad peak]
[or a pleasant snow-clad peak]
Through
whose closeness are augmented
Those very investments of painful effort
of people whose capital is painful effort.
COMMENT:
JI-HO-SAN-SHI-I-SHI-FU
SHI-SON-BU-SA-MO-KO-SA
MO-KO-HO-JA-HO-RO-MI
To recite these words
at the end of a session of sitting-meditation, even if it is a
solitary one, is a reminder of belonging to an effort that is bigger
than oneself...
All
buddhas in the ten directions and of the three times,
All
venerable bodhisattvas and maha-sattvas,
The
great transcendent accomplishment which is real knowing –
Mahā-prajñā-pāramita.
Is the veteran
practitioner who is speaking today's verse a venerable maha-sattva
expressing the mahā-prajñā-pāramita?
Or is he a pitiful devotee
of asceticism talking the religious nonsense of a believer in holy
mountains?
Is he one of us?
Or is he one of them?
Puṇyaḥ
himavān śailaḥ, translated as “the holy mountain Himavat” (as
per EBC and EHJ) or “the holy Himālaya mount” (as per PO), tends
to suggest the latter. But “a pleasant snow-clad rock,” which is
an equally literal translation of puṇyaḥ himavān śailaḥ,
tends to suggest something much less religious – something maybe
more appealing as a venue for a skiing holiday. I have translated
puṇyaḥ as “sacred” partly for conformity, because puṇyāni
is repeated tomorrow in connection with tīrthāni, sacred bathing places.
But the point is that the original Sanskrit is more ambiguous than
our English translations are wont to be.
A
clue that the veteran practitioner who is speaking today's verse
might in fact be a maha-sattva speaking real wisdom, is contained in
the order of the four elements of
1. brahmin seers (representing
something spiritual),
2. king-seers (embodying material power),
3. god-seers (suggesting something transcendent), and
4. a magnificent
Himālayan mountain (being conspicuously real).
So
ostensibly in today's verse the veteran ascetic is expressing a kind
of religious belief which is born of an ascetic dharma, and which is
tied up with specifically Indian culture; but the veteran practitioner's words also can be
read as expressing, below the surface, a universal truth born of
experience of a kind of circle whereby painful effort begets further
painful effort – and not necessarily in a vicious way, but
sometimes in a virtuous way.
The
truth may be that, whether for better or for worse, whether as part
of a virtuous circle or a vicious one, effort tends to beget effort,
practice tends to beget practice. Hence the old adage that if you
want something doing, ask a busy man.
And equally, if you want some
doing stopped, ask a man or a woman who is devoted to non-doing. Or
better still, leave him or her alone, and practise the stopping for
yourself.
A
virtuous circle is something I definitely experienced when I came
back from Japan to England nearly 20 years ago and began training to
be a teacher of the FM Alexander Technique. I experienced a virtuous
circle whereby stopping the things I had got into the habit of doing
(like pulling in my chin to keep my neck bones straight) caused me to
become more aware, and the more aware I became the more I saw what
was to be stopped. So it was a virtuous circle of stopping and
becoming aware, and I was struck by it as such with a force
commensurate with the degree to which I had previously been caught in
the monkey trap of unconscious doing. Early experiences of Alexander work
are liable to be like that, but as one persists with the work there
is less to sense in the way of that kind of dramatic change. The monkey is liable to forget what it was like to have his wrist caught in the neck of the bottle, unable to withdraw his fist as long as it was closed around a desired peanut.
For
a closer illustration of the virtuous circle which I think today's
verse is pointing to, whereby enjoyment of painful practice begets
further enjoyment of painful practice, I remember the words of Master
Tendo Nyojo quoted in Shobogenzo chap. 30, Gyoji:
At places where I hung my traveling staff, I never entered or saw inside a hut or dormitory. How much less could I expend effort on outings and jaunts among the mountains and waters? Besides practising sitting-zen in the Cloud Hall and the common areas, I would sit at quiet and convenient places, going alone to an upper floor or in search of some secluded spot. I always carried a round cushion inside my sleeve, and sometimes I would even sit at the base of a crag. I always felt I would like to sit through the Diamond Seat – that was the end which I hoped to gain. There were times when the flesh of my buttocks swelled up and burst. At these times, I liked sitting-zen all the more.
What
Dogen's teacher is expressing here is not asceticism. But neither is
it the easy negation of asceticism by somebody sitting in an academic
easy chair. Hence the difficulty of the present Canto, which is not
presenting a one-sided view, and which Aśvaghoṣa might have
intended us to understand on more than one level.
The
ostensible meaning of the second half of today's verse is that
enduring ascetic practices in the presence of a holy mountain augments the merit
of those ascetic practices. EBC's translation makes this explicit:
by whose mere presence
the merit of these penances becomes multiplied to the ascetics.
EHJ
also understood that what is augmented is the efficacy of
austerities:
and
by its neighbourhood those very austerities of the ascetics become
multiplied in efficacy.
PO's
translation is a much better reflection of the original:
Because
it is near, those very austerities of men rich in austerity are
amplified.
PO's
translation is much better than EBC's and EHJ's translation for three reasons. Firstly, “men rich in austerity” conveys
the original sense of tapo-dhanānām meaning men whose wealth,
money, capital, or currency was ascetic practice – because, for
many of those men, ascetic practice was the money by which they hoped to
buy sex with celestial nymphs, as Nanda hoped in SN Canto 11.
Secondly, PO's translation retains the original meaning that what was
amplified was the austerities themselves, or the ascetic efforts
themselves (hence tāny-eva), and not the merit or efficacy thereof. And thirdly, the sense of something other than the mountain being amplified by the grandeur of the mountain is rather poetic, romantic, and beautiful, and is elegantly conveyed as such in few words.
In
view of the financial connotation of tapo-dhanānām, and possibly
reflecting my past life as a student of accountancy and financial
management, I considered a translation along these lines, bringing
out the financial metaphor:
Through
whose proximity, when people whose capital is painful effort make
investments of painful effort, those very efforts accrue to them in
abundance.
Compared
with this translation, however, PO's translation struck me as not
only briefer and more elegant, but also – at least insofar as "austerities" includes the sense of practice itself, or effort itself – as truer to Aśvaghoṣa's
original:
Because
it is near, those very austerities of men rich in austerity are
amplified.
The
point I want to be clear about, in conclusion, is that ostensibly the
veteran ascetic is expressing a principle which, as translated by PO,
sounds beautiful – one's practice of pain becomes all the greater,
all the more painful, from being done in the presence of a
magnificent Himālayan mountain.
For
a Buddhist who is in touch with his reason, however, asceticism is
asceticism – a viewpoint which, however elegantly, beautifully and
romantically it is expressed – we are here coldly to shun.
But,
there again, if we dig deeper below this great big snow-clad rock, it
may be possible – maybe after having dug for an hour or two and
then turned our backs on the rock and walked away from it – to
hear other, deeper echoes too.
VOCABULARY
brahmarṣi-rājarṣi-surarṣi-juṣṭaḥ
(nom. sg. m.): loved/frequented by brahmin seers, royal seers, and
divine seers
brahmarṣi:
m. " Brahmanical sage " , N. of a partic. class of sages
supposed so belong to the Brahman caste (as vasiṣṭha &c )
rājarṣi:
m. a royal ṛṣi or saint , ṛṣi of royal descent , that holy
and superhuman personage which a king or man of the military class
may become by the performance of great austerities
surarṣi:
m. a divine ṛṣi , a ṛṣi dwelling among the gods
juṣṭa:
mfn. liked , wished , loved ; frequented , visited , inhabited
puṇyaḥ
(nom. sg. m.): mfn. auspicious , propitious , fair , pleasant , good
, right , virtuous , meritorious , pure , holy , sacred
samīpe
(= loc. samīpa): in the vicinity , near , close at hand , beside ,
in the presence of , at the time of , before , at , towards "
himavān
(nom. sg. m.): mfn. having frost or snow , snowy , frosty , icy ,
snow-clad ; m. a snowy mountain ; m. the himālaya
hi:
for
śailaḥ
(nom. sg. m): mfn. made of stone , stony , rocky ; m. a rock , crag
, hill , mountain
tapāṁsi
(nom. pl.): n. austerities, ascetic practices
tāni
(nom. pl. n.): those
eva:
(emphatic)
tapo-dhanānām
(gen. pl. m.): of/for those rich/steeped in austerities
yat:
which
saṁnikarṣāt
(abl. sg.): m. drawing near or together , approximation , close
contact , nearness , neighbourhood , proximity , vicinity
bahulī-bhavanti
= 3rd pers. pl. bahulī-√ bhū: to become widespread ,
spread , increase (intrans.) ; to become public or known
此處諸梵志 王仙及天仙
皆依於此處 又隣雪山側
皆依於此處 又隣雪山側
増長人苦行 其處莫過此
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