Sunday, November 24, 2013

BUDDHACARITA 8.36: Digging Even Earth


⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−   Vaṁśastha
imā hi śocyā vyavamukta-bhūṣaṇāḥ prasakta-bāṣpāvila-rakta-locanāḥ |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
sthite 'pi patyau himavan-mahī-same pranaṣṭa-śobhā vidhavā iva striyaḥ || 8.36

8.36
These women are deeply to be commiserated,
who have shed embellishments,

Whose bloodshot eyes have been clouded forever by tears,

Who – though their master is still there,
standing firm on those flat Himalayan uplands
[or remaining as constant as the Himalayas or the Earth]
[or being the same as the Himalayas and the earth]
[or being as even as the snow-clad earth]
[or being as even as the ground in the Himalayas] –

Are like widows who lost their former lustre.


COMMENT:
For anybody who likes to dig, today's verse allows a lot of digging to be done.

On the surface, Yaśodharā is describing as “to be sorrowed for” (śocyāḥ), the women of Kapilavāstu who have lost their lustre (pranaṣṭa-śobhāḥ), taking lustre in the sense defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary of
2a : a glow of light from within : luminosity;
2b  : an inner beauty :  radiance.

In that case,
  • vyavamukta-bhūṣaṇāḥ describes the women as having unfastened their jewellery;
  • prasakta-bāṣpāvila-rakta-locanāḥ describes their eyes as reddened by their constant boo-hooing;
  • sthite 'pi patyau himavan-mahī-same describes their lord and master (patyau = the prince) being apart from them, Chandaka having left him resolutely standing firm (sthite) on flat Himalayan uplands (himavan-mahī-same).

Below the surface, meanwhile, the usual metaphor is operating in which “the women” (striyaḥ) stand for us, common or garden Zen practitioners, who (ironically) are to be commiserated for having been relegated to the living of a simple life, and thereby having been deprived of our former lustre, taking lustre in the sense defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary of
3 :  a superficial attractiveness or appearance of excellence.

In that case,
  • vyavamukta-bhūṣaṇāḥ ironically describes us girls as shorn of all fripperies and embellishments;
  • prasakta-bāṣpāvila-rakta-locanāḥ might ironically describe our tear-stained acceptance of the ever-present reality of faulty sensory appreciation; and
  • the description of our master, the Buddha, as sthite 'pi patyau himavan-mahī-same opens up a great big can of worms.

But first a digression...





As I lay heavy-headedly in bed this Sunday morning, it came into my mind to tell the parable of Aśvaghoṣa's CAT. The fantasy went like this.

Aśvaghoṣa throws out cards containing three letters, C, A, and T, and asks a group of bloodshot-eyed girls to make of these letters what we can.

One girl, steeped in the ways of Rinzai Zen and thus versed in Chinese Zen koans, steps up and tells the story of Nansen's CAT.

“No,” says Aśvaghoṣa, “not that.”

Up steps another girl, one who has eschewed study of koans but who has devoted herself single-mindedly, four times every day, to moku-sho-zen, the Zen of silent contemplation, or just sitting.

“To me,” girl number two ventures, those three letters spell out TAC, that is, a needle, or a stimulus, for Zazen.

“No,” says Aśvaghoṣa, “not that.”

A third girl stands up and with iron self-confidence prostates herself three times, arranges the three letters to spell out ACT, and stands silently by her seat, detachedly awaiting Aśvaghoṣa's affirmation.

“No,” says Aśvaghoṣa, “not that either.”

“The word I had in mind,” the old Horse-whisperer says, winking, “was TACT.”


In the 3rd pāda of today's verse the enigmatic compound himavan-mahī-same is somewhat akin to the three letters A, C, and T in the above flight of fancy. What are we to make of it?

Each of the three professors took himavan (Mount Himavat/the Himalayas) and mahī (the earth) as separate elements; hence:

though their lord still stands as unshaken as the earth or Mount Himavat (EBC);
though their lord is still in existence as much as are the Himalayas or the earth (EHJ);
though their husband remains alive, like the earth or Himalayas (PO).

At the same time, EHJ recognized that there might be more than one way to understand the compound, noting that
himavan-mahī-same has several meanings, primarily as in the translation; Kapilavāstu being in the foothills, one is at liberty to imagine Yaśodharā enforcing the point with a gesture towards the snowpeaks, whose visibility to all present would back up her assertion. Secondarily it implies as C [the Chinese translation; 依止如雪山, 安意如大地 ] has it, “as reliable as the snowy mountain, as steadfast as the great earth.” It may also mean, as Formichi takes it, 'on the plain (i.e. the upland) of the Himalayas,' Chandaka having left the prince in the terai under the mountains (see BC7.39).
Following EHJ, PO noted further
The comparison probably has many facets. Siddhārtha remains steadfast and real like the earth or the Himalayas, but yet unconcerned and withdrawn. He exists, but is of no use. Alternatively, the compound himavan-mahī-same can also refer to the uplands of the Himalayas where Chanda left him.

To take the compound himavan-mahī-same word by word,
  • himavat as an adjective means “having snow” or “snow-clad” and as a noun it means the snowy mountain or mountains, the Himalayas.
  • mahī means the earth, both in the sense of planet Earth and in the sense of earth, ground, land.
  • same is the word that really opens up the can of worms, since it could mean so many things.
As a noun expressing the location of the action of sthite (standing), same ostensibly means “level ground” but it could also mean “equability, equanimity, imperturbability.”

As an adjectival suffix, same could be functioning, like iva, to indicate the making of a comparison -- the comparison in question being between sthite (remaining) and  himavan-mahī (the Himalayas and the earth). 

And as an adjective describing sthite (standing, standing firm, continuing in existence), same could mean “constant” or “even” or “normal” or “upright,” and so on.


Where to begin?

The starting point, as I was taught to think by Gudo Nishijima, is idealism. Thus, in the first phase, we might take sama as meaning “constant” or “eternal,” so that himavan-mahī-same is describing our Master, Gautama Buddha, as “constant/eternal as the Himalayas or the Earth.” The point, then, if we were Buddhists who worshipped Gautama Buddha like Jews and Christians and Muslims worship God, would be to think of our Lord Buddha as eternally present.


The second phase is antithetical to the idealism of the first phase. Thus, if the idealistic thesis is that our Lord Buddha is eternally present, the antithesis is that our Lord Buddha was an impermanent human being who, when he died, was cremated, and then the ashes were taken off in different directions. Furthermore, thinking sceptically or scientifically at the second phase, the Himalayas and the Earth – though both are relatively constant, at least in comparison with something as flimsy as a human life – are also subject in the end to the 2nd law of thermodynamics. This susceptibility to change of even the Himalayas is nowhere more dramatically illustrated than by the presence of marine fossils at the top of Himalayan peaks. At the second phase then, the master is “the same as the Himalayas and the earth,” in that he is subject, as everything else in the material world is subject, to the law of impermanence.


In the third phase, we are not here to be idealistic and not here to be materialistic. We are here to act! 
(Sounds good, doesn't it? -- a bit like big girl no. 3 in the parable. Do I sound like a Zen master? Would anybody like to embellish me with a Japanese title, like Roshi, and give me a Roshi stick?) 
Even when all the bold preachiness has been dropped off, we are still here, in the third phase, to act. We are here to sit. We are here to practice sitting-meditation. We are here to ride our bicycles, and in so riding to investigate the principle that so long as we keep pedalling we can stay in balance for miles and miles and miles, but if we stop pedalling it is very difficult to remain in balance. So in the third phase there is a close interrelation between action and balance, or between keeping moving and staying still and even.

In The Long Discourse Giving Advice to Rāhula,  the Buddha tells Rāhula (in Pali):

Paṭhavī-samaṁ Rāhula bhāvanaṁ bhāvehi.
“Develop the meditation, Rāhula, that is to be even as the earth.”
Or
“Cultivate that work on the self, Rāhula, which is to be even as the earth.”

In this memorable phrase, samam means even, flat, balanced.

In the third phase, then, I take himavan-mahī-same as meaning “even as the snow-clad earth” – in the sense that the earth is originally even, and when it is covered in thick layers of snow it becomes even more even.


In the fourth phase, as Gudo Nishijima taught it, are combined all the elements of the three previous phases. Hence, it has been said since ancient times 諸法実相 (Jap: SHOHO-JISSO), all dharmas are real form. And to realize this truth, girls like us are required to park our arses on round black cushions, put right feet on left thighs, left feet on right thighs, and aim to drill holes in our cushions with our ischial tuberosities.

Even while being all-inclusive and all-affirming, the fourth phase demonstrates a certain antipathy towards the grasping intellect. Hence, for example:

When we express it in the further ascendant state,
just what is the Buddha-nature?
Have you fully understood?
Three heads and eight arms!

The fourth phase thus tends to be characterized by irony and by paradoxes -- but no more so than reality itself is characterized by irony and paradoxes. 

In BC8.32 Yaśodharā can be read as saying, paradoxically but truly,
me samaṁ kampate manaḥ,
“my mind wavers in a balanced manner.”

In today's verse, at the fourth phase, same can be read as expressing a still more striking paradox.

The point is that, a priori, we tend to think of wavering and being balanced, as opposite conceptions. But when we investigate in practice what it means to stay balanced, like a good surfer for example stays balanced, balance turns out to be all about wavering – as opposed, in particular, to fixing. 

Again, the Himalayas might be thought of as the last place on earth where the ground is flat. So sthite himavan-mahī-same, if we translate it as “remaining as even as the ground in the Himalayas” at first glance seems paradoxical. In some sense, then, “the ground in the Himalayas” works less well as a metaphor for balance than does the “the snow-clad earth.” But in some sense “the ground in the Himalayas” works much better than “the snow-clad earth” as a metaphor for what we are pursuing, or for what is pursuing us, in sitting-meditation. In what sense does the Himalayan landscape work better as a metaphor for samādhi? In the sense that the bumpy Himalayan  landscape is conspicuously real in its own right, and is not only a metaphor that some bright spark has thought up to make a Buddhist point. 


It is now quarter past eleven already and I have knackered myself out writing this comment.


I think the reason the parable of Aśvaghoṣa's CAT  bubbled up from my unconscious mind in my sleep is as a response to seeing myself, and at the same time not wanting to see myself, as engaged in some kind of competition with EH Johnston and Patrick Olivelle, two professors who already understood that himavan-mahī-same was a deliberately ambiguous phrase. If I have put those two professors squarely in their place, demonstrating that their puny spadework barely scratched the surface of the tortoise, have I thereby served Aśvaghoṣa?

If Aśvaghoṣa were alive today, would he pat me fondly upon the head and say, “Thank you, Mike, for being a paragon and champion of TACT”?

I somehow doubt it.

So the parable of Aśvaghoṣa's CAT might be a warning to clever dicks everywhere, and especially to anybody aspiring to be head girl because of her mighty intellect, that even when we feel very sure that we have understood Aśvaghoṣa's intention, we very probably haven't understood yet. Maybe when we have understood a tree of life in the garden, or got to the bottom of the Himalayas and the Earth, then we will be able to say that we have understood Aśvaghoṣa's intention.



VOCABULARY
imāḥ (nom. pl. f.): these [women]
hi: for
śocyāḥ (nom. pl. f.): mfn. to be lamented (n. impers.) , deplorable , miserable
śuc: to suffer violent heat or pain , be sorrowful or afflicted , grieve , mourn at or for ; to bewail , lament , regret (acc.) ; to be absorbed in deep meditation
vyavamukta-bhūṣaṇāḥ (nom. pl. f.): their ornaments unfastened
vy-ava- √ muc: to unloose , unfasten , take off
bhūṣaṇa: n. embellishment , ornament , decoration

prasakta-bāṣpāvila-rakta-locanāḥ (nom. pl. f.)
prasakta: mfn. mfn. attached , cleaving or adhering or devoted to ; continual , lasting , constant , eternal
bāṣpa: n. tears
āvila: mfn. turbid (as a fluid) , foul , not clear ; (ifc.) polluted by or mixed with
rakta: mfn. coloured , dyed , painted ; reddened, red ; excited , affected with passion or love
locana: n. " organ of sight " , the eye

sthite (loc. sg. m.): mfn. standing ; standing firm ; standing , staying , situated , resting or abiding or remaining in (loc. or comp.) ; being or remaining or keeping in any state or condition (loc.)
api: even, though
patyau (loc. sg.): m. a master , owner , possessor , lord , ruler , sovereign ; a husband
himavan-mahī-same (loc. sg. m.):
himavat: mfn. having frost or snow , snowy , frosty , icy , snow-clad ; m. a snowy mountain ; the himālaya
mahī: f. " the great world " , the earth (in later language also = ground , soil , land , country); earth (as a substance); space
sama: mfn. even , smooth , flat , plain , level , parallel ; same , equal , similar , like , equivalent , like to or identical or homogeneous with (instr. e.g. mayā sama , " like to me " ; or gen. , rarely abl.) , like in or with regard to anything (instr. gen. loc. , or -tas , or comp.) ; always the same , constant , unchanged , fair , impartial ; having the right measure , regular , normal , right , straight ; equable , neutral , indifferent ; just , upright , good , straight , honest ; full , complete , whole , entire ; m. peace (perhaps w.r. for śama) ; n. level ground , a plain (samé bhū́myāḥ , " on level ground ") ; n. equability , equanimity , imperturbability

pranaṣṭa-śobhāḥ (nom. pl. f.): having lost all lustre
pranaṣṭa: mfn. lost , disappeared , vanished , ceased , gone , perished , destroyed , annihilated
śobhā: f. splendour , brilliance , lustre , beauty , grace , loveliness

vidhavāḥ (nom. pl.): f. (accord. to some fr. vi + dhava) a husbandless woman , widow
dhava: m. (said by some to be fr. √ dhū , but more probably a secondary formation fr. vi-dhávā) a man , husband
√ dhū: to shake, agitate ; to strive against , resist
iva: like
striyaḥ (nom. pl. f.): women


此諸貴夫人 憂悴毀形好
涕泣氣息絶 雨涙横流下
夫主尚在世 依止如雪山
安意如大地 憂悲殆至死 

Saturday, November 23, 2013

BUDDHACARITA 8.35: Affirmation II (of Having a Friend in Being Without)


⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−   Vaṁśastha
varaṁ manuṣyasya vicakṣaṇo ripur-na mitram-aprājñam-ayoga-peśalam |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
suhd-bruveṇa hy-avipaścitā tvayā ktaḥ kulasyāsya mahān-upaplavaḥ || 8.35


8.35
It is better for a man to have an insightful enemy,

Rather than a friend of no wisdom, skilled in no method;

For thanks to you,
one versed in nothing who calls himself a friend,

Great misfortune has befallen this noble house.


COMMENT:
At a certain level, on the surface at least, what the grief-stricken Yaśodharā is saying here might be true. It is probably better for a bloke to have a tooth filled by a dentist who hates the sight of him but who knows the score as a dentist, rather than to have the job done by his best friend who is an incompetent dentist.

But today's verse really makes sense to me – as a bloke who sits, endeavouring to make sense of the poetry of a bloke who sat in ancient times – only in the following context:

Here I am sitting in lotus early on a cold November morning. All is quiet, and I am wrapped up warm. I want to come undone. I want to be released to lengthen upward in such a way that as the spine lengthens the whole torso expands and I can breathe easier. So what can I do, as I sit here in lotus, to bring about such an undoing?

Absolutely nothing.

To repeat: Absolutely nothing. Not a thing. 

Real clarity on this point I got from Alexander work, not from any Zen teacher. And no Alexander teacher summed it up better for me than Marjory Barlow, with her constant reminder: “You cannot do an undoing.”

You cannot do an undoing. And yet, here is a true mystery: Just in a renewed moment of clarity that there is absolutely nothing one can do,  in wishing to come undone, to bring about that undoing, the undoing does itself, and the breathing opens up.

Whether anybody else understands what I am saying here, or not, this is in fact what happens, on a good day, in my sitting. And in the end this is what matters. For, as Marjory once memorably said to me, in exasperation, “Well, I know what I mean!”

If its surface meaning was all there was to today's verse , I think the prize for the best translation of Aśvaghoṣa's poetry would go to the most recent of the three professors' translations, that done by Patrick Olivelle. That is to say, I think PO's translation is the one that, in conveying the ostensible meaning, sounds the best. 

Better for a man a wise enemy rather than a foolish friend unskilled in emergencies; by thee, the unwise self-styled friend, a great calamity has been brought upon this family. (EBC)

Better it is for a man to have a wise enemy than a silly friend, who is skilful only in the wrong way. For your imprudence and so-called friendship have wrought great ruin for this family. (EHJ)

It's better for a man to have a prudent foe, than a foolish friend, skilled in doing what is unfit. For calling yourself a friend, you dimwitted man, you have brought this family to utter ruin. (PO)

But insofar as Aśvaghoṣa's original verse, as I read it, is pointing below the surface to nair-guṇyam, the virtue of being without, also called (but not by Aśvaghoṣa himself) buddha-tā “the buddha-nature,” then a truer translation might be one that retained the three negatives in the 2nd pāda (na, a-, and a-), and the further negative in the 3rd pāda (again, a-).

For ayoga-peśalam in the 2nd pāda, the MW dictionary gives “unskilled in emergencies,” referenced to today's verse. Presumably MW lifted “unskilled in emergencies” from EBC's translation, rather than the other way around? Either way, I think the ostensible meaning is more in line with EHJ's “skilful (peśalam) only in the wrong way (a-yoga)” or PO's “skilled in doing (peśalam) what is unfit (a-yoga).” But the real meaning totally subverts the ostensible meaning, in line with what Gudo Nishijima taught about 仏性 (MU-BUSSHO). 

仏性 (MU-BUSSHO) ostensibly means “not having the buddha-nature,” 
but 仏性 (MU-BUSSHO) really means, as Dogen understood it: 
"having the buddha-nature in being without."
In other words 
being without = the buddha-nature,
無= 仏性
and the buddha-nature = being without 
仏性

Thus, in today's verse
  • A friend in the good is a friend (mitram) in the wisdom (prājñā) whose essence is not (a-).
  • A good Alexander teacher is skilled (peśalam) in a method (yoga) whose essence is “No” (a-).  
  • To be steeped in the Buddha's wisdom might be to be versed (vipaścit) in nothing (a-).


VOCABULARY 
varam: ind. preferably , rather , better ; it is better that , it would be best if ; ind. it is better than , rather than (in these senses varam is followed by , na – varaṁ mṛśyur na cākīrtiḥ , " better death than [lit. " and not "] infamy " )
manuṣyasya (gen. sg.): m. a man , human being
vicakṣaṇaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. conspicuous , visible , bright , radiant , splendid ; distinct , perceptible ; clear-sighted (lit. and fig.) , sagacious , clever , wise
cakṣ: to appear, become visible
ripuḥ (nom. sg.): m. enemy

na: not
mitram (nom. sg.): n. a friend
aprājñam (nom. sg. n.): mfn. unlearned , ignorant.
a-yoga-peśalam (nom. sg. n.): mfn. unskilled in emergencies, Bcar. viii, 35.
ayoga: m. separation , disjunction; separation from a lover ; unfitness , unsuitableness , nonconformity ; medical treatment counter to the symptoms , non-application or mis-application of remedies ; vigorous effort , exertion ; inauspicious conjunction of planets
yoga: m. the act of yoking , joining , attaching , harnessing , putting to (of horses); employment , use , application , performance ; a means , expedient , device , way , manner , method
peśala: mfn. artificially formed , adorned , decorated ; beautiful , charming , lovely , pleasant ; soft , tender , delicate ; expert , skilful , clever ; fraudulent , crafty ; ind. tenderly , delicately

suhṛd-bruveṇa (inst. sg. m.) purporting to be a good-heart ; calling himself a friend
suhṛd: m. " good-hearted " , " kindhearted " , " well-disposed " , a friend , ally
bruva: mfn. calling one's self by a name without any real title to it ; being merely nominally (ifc. ; cf. kṣatriya- , dvija- , brāhmaṇa-bruva)
kṣatriya-bruva: mfn. pretending to be a kṣatriya
hi: for
a-vipaścitā (inst. sg. m.): mfn. unwise , ignorant
vipaś-cít: mfn. inspired , wise , learned , versed in or acquainted with (comp.)
vipas: n. inspiration
vi- √ paś: to see in different places or in detail , discern , distinguish
tvayā (inst. sg. m.): by you

kṛtaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. done
kulasya (gen. sg.): n. herd ; a race , family , community , tribe , caste , set , company ; house ; a noble or eminent family or race
asya (gen. sg. n.): this
mahān
upaplavaḥ (nom. sg.): m. affliction , visitation , invasion , inundation ; any public calamity , unlucky accident , misfortune , disturbance
upa- √ plu: to overflow, inundate; to assault, invade , afflict


假名爲良朋 内實懷怨結
今此勝王家 一旦悉破壞

Friday, November 22, 2013

BUDDHACARITA 8.34: Affirmation (of Mateship)


⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−   Vaṁśastha
priyeṇa vaśyena hitena sādhunā tvayā sahāyena yathārtha-kāriṇā |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
gato 'rya-putro hy-apunar-nivttaye ramasva diṣṭyā sa-phalaḥ śramas-tava || 8.34


8.34
For, thanks to you, a devoted mate
 – willing, well-meaning, and straight,

A doer of what was necessary –

That noble son is gone, never to return.

Be glad! 
How wonderful for you, that your effort was fruitful!


COMMENT:
The irony in today's verse is irony within irony.

On the surface it is Yaśodharā who is using irony in its crudest form, sarcasm, to punish Chandaka with her tongue.

But below the surface, the irony is that Yaśodharā's sarcastic affirmation, which is really intended to be anything but an affirmation, might truly be an affirmation. It might be an affirmation of a bodhisattva's effort, as a friend in the good, to cause another to cross over first.

The fruit (phala) in question, in that case, below the surface, might mean the third fruit of dharma, the stage from which there is no return (see SN17.41), or might mean the fourth fruit, or fourth effect, which is the stage of the arhat.

But what is being affirmed in today's verse, as I read it, is not so much that place from which, so they say, there is no return, as the role of a friend in getting there.

The Sanskrit sahāya literally means “one who goes along with you,” and as such is not given in the dictionary as “friend” but rather as “companion” or “helper.” I think it might mean the kind of companion we call a mate or a good buddy.

So today's verse, below the surface, might contain a kind of definition of a true mate – one who is devoted (priya), willing (vaśya), and straight (sādhu). One who has your best interests at heart (hita) and, when push comes to shove, is prepared in those interests to do whatever is necessary (yathārtha-kārin).

The ultimate criterion might be in the phrase, yathārtha-kāriṇā, doing the necessary, when push comes to shove. When push comes to shove might be just the moment when we find out who our true mates are. 


VOCABULARY
priyeṇa (inst. sg. m.): mfn. dear, beloved ; fond of attached or devoted to (loc.)
vaśyena (inst. sg. m.): mfn. to be subjected ; subdued , tamed , humbled ; being under control , obedient to another's will , dutiful , docile , tame , humble
hitena (inst. sg. m.): mfn. beneficial , advantageous , salutary , wholesome , suitable ; well-disposed , favourable , friendly , affectionate , kind
sādhunā (inst. sg. m.): mfn. straight , right ; leading straight to a goal , hitting the mark , unerring (as an arrow or thunderbolt) ; well-disposed , kind , willing , obedient ; good , virtuous , honourable , righteous

tvayā (inst. sg. m.): by you
sahāyena (inst. sg.): m. " one who goes along with (another) " , a companion , follower , adherent , ally , assistant , helper
yathārtha-kāriṇā (inst. sg. m.): acting truly, doing what is appropriate / necessary
yathārtha: mfn. accordant with reality , conformable to truth or the true meaning , true , genuine , right (with svapna m. a dream which is fulfilled ; with janman n. a life in the true meaning of the word);
yathārtham: according to the aim or object , suitably , fitly
kārin: mfn. doing , making , effecting , producing , acting , an actor (mostly ifc.)

gataḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. gone
ārya-putraḥ (nom. sg.): m. son of an Aryan or honourable man , (honourable designation of the son of an elder brother or of any person of rank) ; designation of a husband by his wife (in dram.)
hi: for
apunar-nivṛttaye (dat. sg.): not again to return
apunar: ind. not again
nivṛtti: returning , return

ramasva = 2nd pers. sg. imperative (middle voice) ram: to be glad or pleased , rejoice at , delight in , be fond of
diṣṭyā = inst. sg. diṣṭi: f. auspicious juncture , good fortune , happiness (esp. instr. diṣṭyā , thank heaven! I congratulate you on your good luck!)
sa-phalaḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. fruitful, bearing fruit
śramaḥ (nom. sg.): m. effort
tava (gen. sg.): your

愛念自在伴 隨欲恣心作
故使聖王子 一去不復歸 
汝今應大喜 作惡已果成
寧近智慧怨 不習愚癡友 

Thursday, November 21, 2013

BUDDHACARITA 8.33: Tears vs Action


⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−   Vaṁśastha
anāryam-asnidgham-amitra-karma me nśaṁsa ktvā kim-ihādya rodiṣi |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
niyaccha bāṣpaṁ bhava tuṣṭa-mānaso na saṁvadaty-aśru ca tac-ca karma te || 8.33

8.33
It is an ignoble and ungentle action, the action of a non-friend,

That you, O dealer in others' pain, have done to me.
Why now do you weep?

Stop the tears! Let your mind be satisfied!

Tears, and that action of yours, do not chime well together.


COMMENT:
The ostensible gist of today's verse is “Look what you have done to me! I hope you are satisfied!” Ostensibly these are sarcastic words a woman might say to a man she blamed, when she was beside herself with grief.

Below the surface, however, today's verse can be read as the words a buddha might say having, by the means of sitting with right foot on left thigh and left foot on right thigh, totally become himself.

In the former case karma kṛtvā me means “[you] having done a deed to me .” In the latter case, karma kṛtvā me means “[I] having made action my own.”

Ostensibly, again, the śaṁsa of the vocative nṛ-śaṁsa in the 2nd pāda is from śam, to hurt or to injure. Hence “O cruel one” [EBC] or “You brute,” [EHJ] or “You heartless man” [PO]. But śaṁsa can also be read as deriving from śaṁs, to praise or to wish well, in which case nṛ-śaṁsa means “O one who wishes men well.”

Below the surface, then, today's verse might be read as teaching addressed by a buddha to one who most truly wishes others well, a bodhisattva.

So whereas niyaccha bāṣpam seems to mean “Stop [your] tears” or “Quit [your bloody] sobbing,” niyaccha bāṣpam might really mean, as a buddha's encouragement to a bodhisattva, “Stop [all needless] tears” or “Let tears [in general] cease.”

Below the surface, in the round, today's verse might be read as a buddha's encouragement to a bodhisattva to get out of the area of emotional Buddhist compassion and into the area of action itself:

“Action beyond āryan snobbery and beyond attachment,
action [even] beyond friendship, 

I have made my own, O you who wishes men well!
Here and now, why would you lament?

Stop tears! Let minds be satisfied!

Tears, and the aforementioned action, do not belong together in you.”


I have got into the habit of resorting freely, in some verses, to the use of square brackets in order to show a hidden meaning below (literally below) the ostensible meaning. In other verses, like today's verse, I eschew square brackets in favour of English phrases that allow as much of the ambiguity to come through as possible. Hence "O dealer in others' pain!" for nṛśaṁsa in today's verse. This lack of consistency in use of square brackets is not very satisfactory. Never mind, if I just keep blundering through, on a verse by verse basis, my digging may help prepare the ground for somebody to come along in future years and grow a great big beautiful cabbage.

Any way up, in conclusion, the real turning words in today's verse, as I read it, are karma kṛtvā me, and bhava tuṣṭa-mānasaḥ. If there are hidden horse pictures in today's verse, I think the horse is saying “I have made action into my own possession” (karma kṛtvā me) and “Let the mind be satisfied” (bhava tuṣṭa-mānasaḥ).


VOCABULARY
anāryam (acc. sg. n.): mfn. not honourable or respectable , vulgar , inferior
asnidgham (acc. sg. n.): mfn. not smooth , harsh , hard
snidgha: mfn. adhesive , attached , affectionate , tender , friendly , attached to or fond of; soft , mild , bland , gentle
amitra-karma (acc. sg. n.): the act of an enemy ; [the act of a friend in being without]
amitra: an enemy , adversary , foe ; mfn. not having a friend
karman: n. act, action
me (gen. sg.): of/to/for me

nśaṁsa (voc. sg.): O injurer of men! O cruel one! [O one who wishes men well!]
nśaṁsa: mfn. injuring men , mischievous , noxious , cruel , base
nṛ: m. a man , hero (used also of gods) , person
śam: to toil at , fatigue or exert one's self (esp. in performing ritual acts) ; to put an end to , hurt , injure , destroy
śaṁsa: m. recitation , invocation , praise ; wishing well or ill to , a blessing or a curse
śaṁs: to recite , repeat; to praise , extoll
ktvā = abs. kṛ: to do, make, perform
kim: why?
iha: here, now
adya: today, now
rodiṣi = 2nd pers. sg. rud: to weep , cry , howl , roar , lament ,

nigaccha [old Nepalese manuscript] = 2nd pers. sg. imperative ni- √ gam: to settle down upon or near (acc. or loc.); to enter , resort to , undergo , incur , become (with acc. e.g. śāntim , to become pacified
niyaccha [EBC/EHJ] = 2nd pers. sg. imperative ni- √ yam: to stop; to hold in, suppress
bāṣpam (acc. sg.): n. tear, tears
bhava = 2nd pers. sg. imperative bhū: to become, be
tuṣṭa-mānasaḥ (nom. sg. m.): pleased in your mind
tuṣṭa: mfn. satisfied , pleased
mānasa: n. the mental powers , mind , spirit , heart , soul

na: not
saṁvadati = 3rd pers. sg. saṁ- √ vad : to speak together or at the same time ; to sound together or in concord (said of musical instruments) ; to agree , accord , consent ; to coincide , fit together (so as to give one sense)
aśru (nom. sg.): n. tear, tears
ca: and
tat (nom. sg. n.): that
ca: and
karma (nom. sg.): n. act, action
te (gen. sg.): of yours

終是不正人 不昵非善友

不吉縱強暴 應笑用啼爲
將去而啼還 反覆不相應

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

BUDDHACARITA 8.32: Everything Goes in Waves


⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−   Vaṁśastha
niśi prasuptām-avaśāṁ vihāya māṁ gataḥ kva sa chandaka man-mano-rathaḥ |
⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−¦¦⏑−⏑−¦−⏑⏑¦−⏑−⏑−
upāgate ca tvayi kanthake ca me samaṁ gateṣu triṣu kampate manaḥ || 8.32

8.32
“Leaving me helplessly asleep in the night,

Where, Chandaka, has the joy of my heart gone?

Seeing you and Kanthaka come back,

When three departed, my mind, in all honesty, wavers.


COMMENT:
Samādhi, it has been said since ancient times, is a state like the sea, on the surface of which there may be all kinds of waves, but the deeper you go the stiller it gets.

Aśvaghoṣa's poetry, in that sense, is like samādhi, and like the sea.

Something else Aśvaghoṣa poetry is like, it occurred to me this morning as I lay lazily in bed, is the puzzles I used to seek out in Beano and Dandy annuals where you were challenged to find a number of images hidden in a picture. For example:


In this big picture find the baseball cap, turtle, fish, duck, needle, nail, ice-cream cone, butterfly, boot, spoon, cane, ring, and scissors.


Can you find 5 horses in this picture?


In the big picture of outward emotional suffering painted in today's verse can you find 5 hidden depictions of deep inner peace?

For a start, in the 1st pāda, both prasupta (asleep, far gone) and avaśa (helpless), as discussed in connection with the sleeping beauties in BC Canto 5 (see e.g. BC5.51, 5.55, 5.59), while ostensibly describing a state of slumber, might be an ironic description of sitting in which body and mind have totally dropped off and something other than one's own intention has taken over.


In the 2nd pāda mano-rathaḥ is another expression whose ambiguity we have examined before, since ratha can mean either, or both, a chariot (from √ṛ, to go), or a joy or love (from √ram, to enjoy or love).

Hence gataḥ kva sa chandaka man-mano-rathaḥ ostensibly means:
“Where, Chandaka, has he, the joy of my heart, gone?”
But if we wish to find a hidden meaning connected with body and mind spontaneously dropping off in sitting-meditation, that reading might be:
“Where, Chandaka, is it, the chariot of my mind, going?”


Finally, as reflected by the many definitions of sama and samam listed in the MW dictionary, the meaning of samam is very open and changeable depending on its context. That being so, it is possible in the second half of today's verse to read samam in any number of ways.

EBC and EHJ read samam as an indeclinable participle (or acc. sg. neuter form) meaning “together” and modifying gateṣu triṣu; hence samaṁ gateṣu triṣu = “while three went away together” (EBC); “while three went forth together” (EHJ).

PO translated the second half of today's verse: “As I see you and Kanthaka return, whereas three had departed, my heart begins to tremble.”
Did PO neglect to translate samam? Or is samam + loc. taken as meaning “with regard to” so that upāgate ca tvayi kanthake ca... samaṁ is equivalent to as I see you and Kanthaka return”? 

Another possible reading, and a reading that I guess that Aśvaghoṣa may have wished us to consider for its ironic hidden meaning, is to take samam as nom. sg. neuter, describing me manaḥ as “balanced” or “flat”; so that me samaṁ kampate manaḥ means something like “my balanced mind is vibrating” or, paradoxically, “my balanced mind is wavering unsteadily.”

There again, samam could be taken as an indeclinable participle (or acc. sg. neuter form) meaning “in a balanced manner” or “honestly”; so that me samaṁ kampate manaḥ means something like "my wind is wobbling in a balanced manner" or “my mind is honestly wobbling.”

Which reading did Aśvaghoṣa intend us to decide on? I think Aśvaghoṣa's intention, in general, is to cause us consider all the possibilities. The point might be that Aśvaghoṣa does not wish us to attach to any one reading – except when he does.

But what in conclusion I can report, not as opinion but as fact, is a conversation I had with Gudo Nishijima many years ago, about how my attitude to sitting and to translation work tended to change throughout the course of 24 hours, so that a kind of red-raw sincerity in the early morning was liable to give way to a certain insincere frivolity during the course of the day. This prompted Gudo to say, “Yes, it's true. Our mind goes in waves.”

There again, according to an old surfer friend of mine, Everything goes in waves.”


VOCABULARY
niśi (loc. sg.): in the night
prasuptām (acc. sg. f.): mfn. fallen into sleep , fast asleep , sleeping , slumbering ; asleep i.e. insensible ; quiet , inactive , latent
avaśām (acc. sg. f.): mfn. unsubmissive to another's will , independent , unrestrained , free ; not having one's own free will , doing something against one's desire or unwillingly
vihāya = abs. vi- √ hā: to leave behind, abandon
mām (acc. sg.): me
gataḥ (nom. sg. m.): mfn. gone, gone away, departed

kva: where?
sa (nom. sg. m.): he
chandaka (voc. sg.): O Chandaka!
man-mano-rathaḥ (nom. sg. m.): my heart's joy ;
mano-ratha: 'heart's joy' ; fancy , illusion; the heart compared to a car
mad: me
manas: n. mind, heart
ratha: m. ( √ṛ) " goer " , a chariot , car ; m. ( √ ram) pleasure , joy , delight ; love

upāgate (loc. sg. m.): mfn. approached , arrived
[EHJ footnote: Note upāgate in the singular with two subjects.]
ca: and
tvayi (loc. sg.): you
kanthake (loc. sg.): Kanthaka
ca: and
me (gen. sg. n.): my

samam (nom./acc. sg. n.): mfn. even , smooth , flat , plain , level , parallel ; same , equal , similar , like , equivalent , like to or identical or homogeneous with (instr. e.g. mayā sama , " like to me " ; or gen. , rarely abl.) , like in or with regard to anything (instr. gen. loc.); always the same , constant , unchanged , fair , impartial ; having the right measure , regular , normal , right , straight ; equable , neutral , indifferent ; equally distant from extremes , ordinary , common , middling ; just , upright , good , straight , honest; ind. in like manner , alike , equally , similarly ; ind. together with or at the same time ; ind. just , exactly , precisely ; ind. honestly , fairly
gateṣu (loc. pl.): mfn. gone, gone away, departed
triṣu (loc. pl.): three
kampate = 3rd pers. sg. kamp: to tremble , shake 
kampana: mfn. trembling , shaken , unsteady
kampin: mfn. trembling , quivering
manaḥ (nom. sg.): n. mind

生亡我所欽 今爲在何所
人馬三共行 今唯二來歸
我心極惶怖 戰慄不自安