---
title: "五燈會元 · 東京天寧芙蓉道楷禪師"
description: "五燈會元由宋代高僧普濟編撰，成書於南宋淳祐年間，是中國禪宗重要典籍之一。該書彙編了禪宗五家七宗的傳法譜系與公案語錄，包括法眼、雲門、曹洞、臨濟、溈仰五宗祖師的機鋒對話與悟道因緣，系統整理了禪宗從初祖達摩至唐宋時期的發展脈絡。全書共二十卷，以燈燈相傳為喻，展現了禪宗心法傳承的歷史軌跡。作為研究唐宋禪宗思想的核心文獻，五燈會元不僅是佛教史學的重要資料，更是禪門修行者參究心性的權威指南，在中國佛教史上具有不可替代的地位。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cma8xeews0maxl404yoyszo1l"
---

### 東京天寧芙蓉道楷禪師

> Zen Master Furong Daokai of Tianning Temple, Tokyo

沂州崔氏子。自幼學辟穀。隱伊陽山。後遊京師。籍名術臺寺。試法華得度。謁投子於海會。乃問。佛祖言句。如家常茶飯。離此之外。別有為人處也無。子曰。汝道寰中天子敕。還假堯舜禹湯也無。師欲進語。子以拂子摵師口曰。汝發意來。早有三十棒也。師即開悟。再拜便行。子曰。且來。闍黎。師不顧。子曰。汝到不疑之地邪。師即以手掩耳。後作典座。子曰。廚務勾當不易。師曰。不敢。子曰。煑粥邪。蒸飯邪。師曰。人工淘米著火。行者煑粥蒸飯。子曰。汝作甚麼。師曰。和尚慈悲。放他閑去。一日侍投子遊菜園。子度拄杖與師。師接得便隨行。子曰。理合恁麼。師曰。與和尚提鞋挈杖。也不為分外。子曰。有同行在。師曰。那一人不受教。子休去。至晚問師。早來說話未盡。師曰。請和尚舉。子曰。卯生日。戌生月。師即點燈來。子曰。汝上來下去。總不徒然。師曰。在和尚左右。理合如此。子曰。奴兒婢子。誰家屋裏無。師曰。和尚年尊。闕他不可。子曰。得恁麼殷勤。師曰。報恩有分。住後。僧問。胡家曲子不墮五音。韻出青霄。請師吹唱。師曰。木雞啼夜半。鐵鳳呌天明。曰。恁麼則一句曲含千古韻。滿堂雲水盡知音。師曰。無舌童兒能繼和。曰。作家宗師。人天眼目。師曰。禁取兩片皮。問。夜半正明。天曉不露。如何是不露底事。師曰。滿船空載月。漁父宿蘆花。問。如何是曹洞家風。師曰。繩牀風雨爛。方丈草來侵。問。如何是直截根源。師曰。足下已生草。舉步落危坡。上堂。晝入祗陀之苑。皓月當天。夜登靈鷲之山。太陽溢目。烏鵶似雪。孤鴈成羣。鐵狗吠而凌霄。泥牛鬬而入海。正當恁麼時。十方共聚。彼我何分。古佛場中。祖師門下。大家出一隻手。接待往來知識。諸仁者。且道成得箇甚麼事。良久曰。剩栽無影樹。留與後人看。上堂。纔陞此座。已涉塵勞。更乃凝眸。自彰瑕玷。別傳一句。勾賊破家。不失本宗。狐狸戀窟。所以真如凡聖。皆是夢言。佛及眾生。並為增語。到這裏回光返照。撒手承當。未免寒蟬抱枯木。泣盡不回頭。上堂。喚作一句。已是埋沒宗風。曲為今時。通途消耗。所以借功明位。用在體處。借位明功。體在用處。若也體用雙明。如門扇兩開。不得向兩扇上著意。不見新豐老子道。峰巒秀異。鶴不停機。靈木迢然。鳳無依倚。直得功成不處。電火難追。擬議之間。長途萬里。上堂。臘月三十日已前即不問。臘月三十日事作麼生。諸仁者到這裏。佛也為你不得。法也為你不得。祖師也為你不得。天下老和尚也為你不得。山僧也為你不得。閻羅老子也為你不得。直須盡却今時去。若也盡却今時。佛也不奈他何。法也不奈他何。祖師也不奈他何。天下老和尚也不奈他何。山僧也不奈他何。閻羅老子也不奈他何。諸人且道。如何是盡却今時底道理。還會麼。明年更有新條在。惱亂春風卒未休。問。如何是道。師曰。無角泥牛犇夜攔。上堂。鐘皷喧喧報未聞。一聲驚起夢中人。圓常靜應無餘事。誰道觀音別有門。良久曰。還會麼。休問補陀巖上客。鶯聲啼斷海山雲。上堂。拈拄杖曰。這裏薦得。盡是諸佛建立邊事。直饒東涌西沒。卷舒自在。也未夢見七佛已前消息。須知有一人。不從人得。不受教詔。不落階級。若識此人。一生參學事畢。驀召大眾曰。更若凝眸。不勞相見。上堂。良久曰。青山常運步。石女夜生兒。便下座。上堂。假言唱道。落在今時。設使無舌人解語。無脚人能行。要且未能與那一人相應。還會麼。龍吟徒側耳。虎嘯謾沉吟。問。如何是兼帶之語。師曰。妙用全施該世界。木人閑步火中來。曰。如何是和尚家風。師曰。眾人皆見。曰。未審見箇甚麼。師曰。東壁打西壁。大觀初。開封尹李孝壽奏師道行卓冠叢林。宜有褒顯。即賜紫方袍。號定照禪師。內臣持勑命至。師謝恩竟。乃陳己志。出家時甞有重誓。不為利名。專誠學道。用資九族。苟渝願心。當弃身命。父母以此聽許。今若不守本志。竊冐寵光。則佛法．親盟背矣。於是修表具辭。復降旨京尹堅俾受之。師確守不回。以拒命坐罪。奉旨下棘寺。與從輕。寺吏聞有司。欲徙淄州。有司曰有疾。與免刑。及吏問之。師曰。無疾。曰。何有灸瘢邪。師曰。昔者疾。今日愈。吏令思之。師曰。已悉厚意。但妄非所安。乃恬然就刑而行。從之者如歸市。及抵淄州。僦居。學者愈親。明年冬。勑令自便。庵於芙蓉湖心。道俗川湊。示眾曰。夫出家者為厭塵勞。求脫生死。休心息念。斷絕攀緣。故名出家。豈可以等閑利養。埋沒平生。直須兩頭撒開。中間放下。遇聲遇色。如石上栽花。見利見名。似眼中著屑。況從無始以來。不是不曾經歷。又不是不知次第。不過翻頭作尾。止於如此。何須苦苦貪戀。如今不歇。更待何時。所以先聖教人。祇要盡却今時。能盡今時。更有何事。若得心中無事。佛祖猶是冤家。一切世事。自然冷淡。方始那邊相應。你不見隱山至死不肯見人。趙州至死不肯告人。匾擔拾橡栗為食。大梅以荷葉為衣。紙衣道者祇披紙。玄泰上座祇著布。石霜置枯木堂與人坐臥。祇要死了你心。投子使人辦米。同煑共䬸。要得省取你事。且從上諸聖。有如此榜樣。若無長處。如何甘得。諸仁者。若也於斯體究。的不虧人。若也不肯承當。向後深恐費力。山僧行業無取。忝主山門。豈可坐費常住。頓忘先聖付囑。今者輒斆古人。為住持體例。與諸人議定。更不下山。不赴齋。不發化主。唯將本院莊課一歲所得。均作三百六十分。日取一分用之。更不隨人添減。可以備飯則作飯。作飯不足則作粥。作粥不足則作米湯。新到相見。茶湯而已。更不煎點。唯置一茶堂。自去取用。務要省緣。專一辦道。又況活計具足。風景不疎。華解笑。鳥解啼。木馬長鳴。石牛善走。天外之青山寡色。耳畔之鳴泉無聲。嶺上猿啼。露濕中宵之月。林間鶴唳。風回清曉之松。春風起時。枯木龍吟。秋葉凋而寒林華散。玉堦鋪苔蘚之紋。人面帶烟霞之色。音塵寂爾。消息宛然。一味蕭條。無可趣向。山僧今日向諸人面前。說家門已是不著便。豈可更去陞堂入室。拈槌豎拂。東喝西棒。張眉努目。如癇病發相似。不唯屈沈上座。況亦辜負先聖。你不見達磨西來少室山下。面壁九年。二祖至於立雪斷臂。可謂受盡艱辛。然而達磨不曾措了一詞。二祖不曾問著一句。還喚達磨作不為人。得麼。二祖做不求師。得麼。山僧每至說著古聖做處。便覺無地容身。慚愧後人軟弱。又況百味珍羞。遞相供養。道我四事具足。方可發心。祇恐做手脚不迭。便是隔生隔世去也。時光似箭。深為可惜。雖然如是。更在他人從長相度。山僧也強教你不得。諸仁者還見古人偈麼。山田脫粟飯。野菜淡黃虀。喫則從君喫。不喫任東西。伏惟同道。各自努力。珍重。政和七年冬。賜額曰華嚴禪寺。八年五月十四日。索筆書偈。付侍僧曰。吾年七十六。世緣今已足。生不愛天堂。死不怕地獄。撒手橫身三界外。騰騰任運何拘束。移時乃逝。

> A man from the Cui family in Yizhou studied grain-free fasting from a young age and lived in seclusion in Mount Yiyang. Later, he traveled to the capital and registered at Shutai Temple. After passing an examination on the Lotus Sutra, he was ordained. He then went to visit Master Touzi at Haihui Temple and asked, "The words of the Buddhas and patriarchs are like everyday meals. Apart from this, is there anything else you use to help people?" Touzi said, "Do you think the emperor's decrees still need the sanction of the ancient sage-kings?" The monk tried to respond, but Touzi struck his mouth with a whisk and said, "From the moment you formed the intention to speak, you already deserved thirty blows." At that, the monk was suddenly awakened. He bowed and walked away. Touzi called out, "Come back, teacher." The monk ignored him. Touzi said, "Have you reached the state beyond doubt?" The monk covered his ears with his hands. Later, he served as the temple's head cook. Touzi said, "Managing the kitchen is no easy task." The monk replied, "I wouldn't dare claim credit." Touzi asked, "Are you cooking porridge or steaming rice?" The monk said, "The workers are washing rice and lighting the fire, and the novices are cooking porridge and steaming rice." Touzi asked, "Then what are you doing?" The monk replied, "The Master is compassionate, letting them have some leisure." One day, while accompanying Touzi on a walk through the vegetable garden, Touzi handed him his walking staff. The monk took it and walked alongside. Touzi said, "It's proper to do things this way." The monk said, "Carrying your shoes and staff for you isn't beyond my duty." Touzi said, "There's a fellow practitioner here." The monk said, "Isn't that person also receiving your teaching?" Touzi dropped the subject. That evening, Touzi asked the monk, "Our conversation earlier today wasn't finished." The monk said, "Please, Master, bring it up." Touzi said, "Born in the hour of the Rabbit, born in the month of the Dog." The monk lit a lamp and brought it over. Touzi said, "Everything you do, going up and coming down, is not without meaning." The monk said, "Being at the Master's side, this is only proper." Touzi said, "Servants and maids—what household doesn't have them?" The monk said, "The Master is advanced in years; we can't do without them." Touzi said, "You're being so attentive." The monk said, "I have a share in repaying your kindness." After he became the abbot, a monk asked him, "The foreign melody doesn't fall into the five tones; its resonance rises beyond the blue sky. Please, Master, play it for us." The master said, "A wooden rooster crows at midnight; an iron phoenix cries at dawn." The monk said, "Then a single phrase contains the ancient rhythm, and the whole hall of wandering monks knows its harmony." The master said, "A tongueless child can continue the song." The monk said, "A true master of the house, the eye of humans and devas." The master said, "Keep your two lips sealed." A monk asked, "At midnight it's bright, at dawn it's hidden. What is the matter of not revealing?" The master said, "A boat filled with moonlight sails empty; a fisherman sleeps among the reeds." A monk asked, "What is the Caodong family style?" The master said, "The rope bed rots in wind and rain; weeds invade the abbot's quarters." A monk asked, "What is directly cutting to the root?" The master said, "Grass has already grown beneath your feet; taking a step, you fall off the steep cliff." At a formal lecture, the master said: "Entering the Garden of Jeta by day, the bright moon hangs in the sky. Climbing Vulture Peak by night, the sun dazzles the eyes. Crows are white as snow; solitary geese flock together. Iron dogs bark, reaching the clouds; clay oxen fight, entering the sea. At such a time, the ten directions gather together—how could self and other be distinguished? In the field of the ancient Buddhas, at the gate of the patriarchs, everyone lends a hand to receive and guide the visiting practitioners. Good people, tell me—what has been accomplished?" After a pause, he said, "Plant a tree without shadow; leave it for later generations to see." At a lecture, the master said: "As soon as I ascend this seat, I've already fallen into worldly toil. To stare further only exposes my own flaws. A separate transmission of a single phrase is like summoning thieves to ruin the house. Not losing the original tradition is like a fox clinging to its den. Thus, Suchness, ordinary beings, and sages are all dream talk; Buddhas and sentient beings are all additions. At this point, turning the light around and letting go to take responsibility—still, it's like a winter cicada clinging to a withered tree, weeping endlessly without turning back." At a lecture, the master said: "To call it a single phrase already buries the tradition. Compromising for the present age only wastes the path. So we use function to illuminate position, with function resting in substance; we use position to illuminate function, with substance resting in function. If both substance and function are clearly seen, it's like two doors swinging open—but don't focus on the two panels. Haven't you heard the old master Xin Feng say, 'The peaks are magnificent and strange, but the crane doesn't rest there; the spiritual tree stands tall and distant, but the phoenix has no place to lean.' When achievement is complete but not clung to, even lightning can't catch up. The moment you hesitate, the long road stretches ten thousand miles." At a lecture, the master said: "Before the thirtieth day of the twelfth month, I won't ask. But what about the matter on the thirtieth day of the twelfth month? Good people, at this point, the Buddha can't help you, the Dharma can't help you, the patriarchs can't help you, the old masters of the world can't help you, this mountain monk can't help you, and King Yama can't help you. You must completely finish this present moment. If you finish the present moment, then the Buddha can't touch you, the Dharma can't touch you, the patriarchs can't touch you, the old masters can't touch you, this mountain monk can't touch you, and King Yama can't touch you. Tell me, what is the principle of finishing the present moment? Do you understand? Next year there will be new branches; disturbing the spring breeze, they never cease." A monk asked, "What is the Path?" The master said, "A hornless clay ox runs through the night barrier." At a lecture, the master said: "The bell and drum clamor, yet the news is unheard; a single sound startles the dreamer awake. Perfect and constant, responding calmly, nothing else remains—who says Guanyin has another gate?" After a pause, he said, "Do you understand? Don't ask the guest on Mount Potalaka; the oriole's song breaks through the clouds over sea and mountain." At a lecture, holding up his staff, the master said: "To recognize it here is merely the realm of what the Buddhas established. Even if the east surges and the west sinks, freely rolling and unfolding—you still haven't dreamt of the message before the seven Buddhas. You should know there is one person who doesn't obtain anything from others, doesn't receive any teaching, and doesn't fall into ranks. If you recognize this person, your life's work of practice is complete." Suddenly addressing the assembly, he said, "If you still stare, there's no need to meet." At a lecture, after a pause, the master said: "Green mountains always move; a stone woman gives birth at night." Then he left the seat. At a lecture, the master said: "Borrowing words to sing the path falls into the present age. Even if a tongueless person could speak and a footless person could walk, they still couldn't correspond with that one person. Do you understand? The dragon's roar merely inclines ears; the tiger's cry is just a deep sigh." A monk asked, "What is the word of simultaneous inclusion?" The master said, "Marvelous function fully applied, covering the world; the wooden man strolls leisurely through fire." The monk asked, "What is the Master's family style?" The master said, "Everyone sees it." The monk asked, "What do they see?" The master said, "The east wall hits the west wall." During the Daguan era, Li Xiaoshou, the magistrate of Kaifeng, recommended to the throne that the master's conduct exceeded all others in the monastic community and deserved recognition. The emperor bestowed a purple robe and the title Chan Master Dingzhao. When the imperial messenger arrived with the decree, the master expressed gratitude, then stated his earlier resolution: "When I left home, I made a solemn vow: not for fame or profit, but devoted solely to the path, to benefit my nine generations of ancestors. If I ever betrayed that vow, I would abandon my body and life. My parents permitted my ordination on these grounds. If I now break my original resolve and assume this honor, it would betray both the Dharma and my family's oath." He then submitted a formal petition of refusal. The emperor again decreed, compelling him through the magistrate to accept. The master remained resolute and refused. For defying the order, he was sentenced and sent to the imperial prison, but the punishment was commuted. The prison officials informed the authorities that he might be exiled to Zizhou. The authorities said, "He is ill, so exempt him from punishment." When the officials asked him about it, the master said, "I am not ill." They said, "Then why do you have moxibustion scars?" The master said, "I was ill in the past; today I am healed." The officials told him to reconsider. The master said, "I understand your kindness, but to accept what is not right is something I cannot do." He went calmly to his punishment, and followers accompanied him as if going to a market gathering. When he arrived in Zizhou, he rented a place to live, and his students grew even more devoted. The following winter, the emperor permitted him to live freely. He built a hermitage at the center of Furong Lake, and monastics and laypeople gathered like rivers flowing to the sea. Addressing the assembly, he said: "Why does one leave home? To be weary of worldly toil and seek liberation from birth and death—to rest the mind, end thoughts, and cut off attachments. That is why it's called leaving home. How could one bury a lifetime in ordinary offerings and support? You must push open both sides, let go of the middle. Encountering sounds and sights, treat them as flowers planted on stone. Seeing fame and profit, regard them as dust in your eyes. Moreover, from beginningless time, haven't you already experienced these things? Don't you know the order of these states? It's only turning the head into the tail, just like this. Why cling so bitterly? If you don't rest now, when will you? This is why the ancient sages taught people: just finish the present moment. If you can finish the present moment, what else remains? If your mind is free of concerns, then even Buddhas and patriarchs are enemies. All worldly affairs naturally grow cold, and only then do you correspond with the other side. "Haven't you seen Master Yinshan who to his death refused to see people? Master Zhaozhou who to his death refused to tell people? Biandan who ate acorns for food? Damei who wore lotus leaves for clothing? The Paper-Robe Practitioner who only wore paper? Elder Xuantai who only wore cloth? Shishuang who set up a hall of dead trees for people to sit and lie in, just to put your mind to death? Touzi who had people prepare rice, cooking and eating together, to help you cut down your concerns? "From the ancient sages, there were such examples. If they had no merit in this, how could they have been content with it? Good people, if you investigate this intimately, it will not fail you. If you are unwilling to accept it, I fear it will be very difficult later on. This mountain monk has no particular achievements but is charged with leading this mountain. How could I sit and waste the temple's resources, forgetting the instructions of the ancient sages? Now I imitate the ancients and establish this as the rule of this abbacy: I will no longer go down the mountain, no longer attend invitation meals, and no longer send out fundraising monks. I will divide the whole year's income from the temple's fields into three hundred and sixty portions, using one portion per day, without increasing or decreasing based on anyone's wishes. If there's enough to make rice, we make rice; if not enough for rice, we make porridge; if not enough for porridge, we make rice water. For new arrivals, just tea and a simple greeting—no elaborate refreshments. I'll set up one tea room where people serve themselves. The goal is to reduce entanglements and focus solely on the practice. "Moreover, we have all we need for daily life, and the scenery here isn't lacking. Flowers know how to laugh, birds know how to sing. Wooden horses neigh long, stone oxen are good at running. The green mountains beyond the sky lose their color; the sound of springs by the ears is silent. Monkeys cry on the ridge; dew wets the midnight moon. Cranes call in the forest; wind stirs the pines in the clear dawn. When the spring breeze rises, withered trees sing like dragons. When autumn leaves fall, the cold forest's blossoms scatter. Jade steps are paved with patterns of moss; faces carry the color of mist and clouds. Sounds and dust are still; the message is ever present. A single flavor of desolation, with nothing to chase after. "Today, this mountain monk telling you about his household affairs is already ill-advised. How could I go further and ascend the hall, enter the room, raise the mallet, hold up the whisk, shout east and strike west, raise eyebrows and glare—like a fit of madness? Not only would it demean you, but it also betrays the ancient sages. Haven't you seen Bodhidharma coming from the West and sitting facing a wall at Shaoshi Mountain for nine years? The Second Patriarch stood in the snow and cut off his arm—how much hardship he endured. Yet Bodhidharma never said a single word, and the Second Patriarch never asked a single question. Could you call Bodhidharma one who didn't help people? Could you say the Second Patriarch didn't seek a teacher? Every time this mountain monk speaks of the ancients' conduct, I feel there's no place on earth to hide my shame. I lament how weak people are today compared to them. And when people have a hundred delicacies passed around to each other, saying 'only when I have all four requisites can I set my mind'—I fear that before you can even move your hands and feet, you've already slipped into another life. Time is like an arrow; it's truly a pity. "Even so, it's up to each of you to consider carefully. This mountain monk can't force you. Good people, do you see the ancients' verse? 'Coarse rice from mountain fields, Wild vegetables in plain yellow soup. If you eat, eat; If not, go where you please.' I wish you all to strive together. Take care." In the winter of the seventh year of the Zhenghe era, the temple was granted the name Huayan Chan Temple. On the fourteenth day of the fifth month of the eighth year, he asked for a brush and wrote a verse, handing it to his attendant monk: "My age is seventy-six; My worldly conditions are now complete. In life, no love for heaven; In death, no fear of hell. Letting go, lying across beyond the three realms— At ease, following conditions, what could restrain me?" After a moment, he passed away.