Poem Bequeathed to Hua Gong, Buddhist Monk Mingxie

[lnhammer]

Mingxie surname Yao, a monk of Puguang Temple, possessed much talent and learning. In 662 he passed the imperial exams, then took off his Buddhist robes, saying, “I must shed this donkey hide.” Thereupon he bought wine and composed poetry, including the lines, “A carriage, at first I didn’t have— / Three Empties, where do I return?” Before long, he died of illness. He appeared in a dream to his old friend Zhi Zheng and one Sir Hua, saying he had a great burden and bitter news, and requested they copy the scriptures and so accrue merit, for he bequeathed this poem.

Clasp your hands, for they cannot be parted—
Beating your breast, you might wound yourself.
So painful, ah! —the time for us is short;
The sorrow, oh! —the road to wealth is long.
The forest pines surprised by open winds—
The bleak tomb-passage bears the winter frost.
You say, “You’re distant—why present these words?”
Guard well your heart within the laws of dharma.

遗画工诗
作者：释明解
〈明解姓姚，普光寺僧，颇具才学。龙朔中策第，脱袈裟，自云：“得脱此驴皮。”遂置酒赋诗，有“一乘本非有，三空何所归”之句。不久病卒，下梦于旧识智整及一画士，言大受苦报，求写经作功德，因遗此诗。〉
握手不能别，
抚膺聊自伤。
痛矣时阴短，
悲哉泉路长。
松林惊野吹，
荒隧落寒霜。
言离何以赠，
留心内典章。

Because writing poems is a totally dissolute thing to do—though I gather the problem was not so much the poetry as that it was anti-Buddhist. Mingxie (“clear-sight released”) is his Buddhist rather than lay name (which was surname Yao, courtesy name Zhoayi, personal name not recorded). According to a potted bio, he was at the Puguang (“universal light”) Temple in Chang’an, published a book in 639, passed the exams in 660, in his middle age, and died the next year. The Three Empties, a Buddhist term of art, are empty field, empty court, and empty warehouse, and I suspect the carriage/vehicle is also a Buddhist reference. The supplied pronouns in l.7 of the poem are more guess-y than usual.

---L.