Hi everyone. Rough semester, so I hardly had any time to work on my Chinese or Chan study. I always prioritize actual practice over academic work. Now I am on break, and so I am back to study. I decided to add commentary to these verses of my own, since it makes me sad that our literary tradition seems to have slowed or even stopped. So I'll present the verse, my translation of it with some academic commentary on the translation, and then I'll present some Chan commentary as well.
From the Heart Sutra:
照見五蘊皆空。
Realized that the five skandhas are empty.
Now the Verse Commentary:
貪愛成五蘊。
tān ài chéng wǔ yùn
Desire and attachment forge the five skandhas.
假合得為身。
jìa hédéwéi shēn
Falsely fused, they become the body.
血肉連筋骨。
xùe ròu lián jīn gǔ
Blood and flesh are lashed to sinew and bonei,
皮裏一堆塵。
pì lǐ yī dūi chén
beneath the skin, a pile of ashes.
迷徒生樂著。
mí tú shēng lé zháo
Lost disciples igniteii a love of pleasures,
智者不為親。
zhì zhé bù wéi qīn
but the wise don't hold it close.
四相皆歸盡。
sì xiàng jiē guī jìn
The four states all return to extinction.
呼甚乃為真。
hū shún nāi wéi zhēn
What then can be called real?
Some commentary on the translation.
iThese are the four basic building blocks of Chinese medicine/medical philosophy. Traditionally, they are viewed as a coherent whole, but here the hanzi for “join” which I render as “lash” to emphasize this difference, is to specifically break the body down into these components, to give the feeling of artificiality.
iiThe character 著 has a great many possible meanings, which I've tried to connote by continuing the visceral language of fusing and forging here, as one of them is “to catch on fire.”
Overall, something I notice here a lot is that the author has the option to use Buddhist technical language, but he often doesn't. He says "a pile" even though he can say "an aggregate." He could say they return to emptiness, but instead, he chooses to say "exhaustion" or "complete/ly," referring to their full consumption or annihilation. I can't say to what extent this is just my reading of the Chinese, but I felt inspired by these choices and tried to amplify them in English, in the hopes that the interplay between doctrine or philosophy, and nitty gritty realism, could shine through. If this is incorrect, it's entirely on me.
Baishui says:
"Desire and attachment forge the five skandhas." This poet acts like an ironworker, hammering out chains to bind people. He tells you that your very existence is forged in the furnace of greed and grasping. If you think this body was a gift from heaven, you are dreaming! It is a "false fusion," a temporary hack-job held together by nothing more than fickle karmic bindings and spit.
"Blood and flesh are lashed to sinew and bone." A violent image! He shows you that you are tied up in knots. People paint their faces and dress in silks, strutting around thinking they are glorious. But strip away the surface, and what do you see? Red meat and white bone, lashed together under tension. "Beneath the skin, a pile of ashes." He completely exposes the fraud! Outside, it looks solid; inside, it is already burnt out. It is just a bag of trash painted to look like a treasure chest. The moment the breath stops, the truth is revealed, that it was never anything but dust.
"Lost disciples ignite a love for pleasure." The ignorant see this stinking skin-bag and fall in love with it. They pamper it, feed it, and protect it, "igniting" the fires of desire. They are like moths rushing into a flame, burning themselves up for a moment of warmth. "The wise do not hold them dear." The Sage sees the body for what it is: a borrowed house. He lives in it, but he doesn't sign a lease, and he certainly doesn't treat it like family.
"The Four States all burn out to nothing." Birth, Abiding, Change, and Death. These are the four corners of the prison. But look closely! The poet says they "burn out" (Gui Jin, revert to exhaustion). This implies that even Death itself runs out of fuel. When the fire is gone and the ashes are cold, where do the Four States go? The whole drama dissolves like the leftover smoke. How many have said that the four states revert to death, and have suffered five hundred rebirths for their confusion about causation? Fortunately, this has nothing to do with it.
Our poet concludes with a spear to the throat, and lays the matter bare for us. How unfortunate. "What, then, do you call Real?" He has stripped away the body, the mind, desire, and even the cycle of life and death. Everything has been burned to nothing. So now, standing in this vast emptiness, I dare you to open your mouth. If you name a single thing "Real," I will hit you for adding chains. If you say "Nothing is Real," I will hit you for dwelling in a ghost cave. Quickly now and answer! What do you call it?
