---
title: "普菴印肅禪師語錄 · 與萍鄉知縣法語"
description: "普菴印肅禪師語錄是南宋臨濟宗高僧普菴印肅禪師的語錄集成，原書已佚失。普菴禪師為臨濟宗第十二世傳人，活動於十二世紀，以神通感應及禪修開示著稱。語錄內容包含其機鋒語句、禪法心要、修行指導及與弟子問答，體現了臨濟宗直指人心、見性成佛的宗風。該語錄雖失傳，但普菴禪師在佛教史上影響深遠，尤其被尊為民間信仰中的消災聖者，其咒語與禪法至今仍廣為流傳，是研究南宋禪宗與民間佛教的重要參照。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmcwub1sk00gple04y4z2kes8"
---

### 與萍鄉知縣法語

> Dharma Talk for the Magistrate of Pingxiang

自悟無師。心大解脫。不空無住。普菴老人某。於法會靜。久離名絕相之處。舉所慧妙香一爇云。百億恒沙諸佛。盡入香光法界。菩薩先天同知供養。一心遍界。塵剎俱収。一言全通。無不感應。是知皇宗先族。皆悉崇般若良因。今為世俗提綱。隱顯全通消息。斯幸萍鄉縣宰。出現世間。內懷禪悅之心。外作勸農之主。無理不貫。無事不収。遠近一如。古今非異。某常光久合。深知出手難為。末法強魔。箇中希逢伴侶。明藏教全無一字了。佛身猶若虗空。誰是得意忘言。那解無相三昧。佛是覺義。有相皆虗。法性湛然一心海印。僧真了法應。不干塵。動靜體合真如。舉措皆標心印。迷徒難化。隨事依黃葉止啼。豐干饒舌。若於正宗門下。則千劫難酧。不免胡漢用一鏡。全光照了。萬像皆是幻。故圓覺了義經云。幻滅覺圓滿。覺心不動故。所以二十餘年。守株待兔。恰如面壁少林。聞見如癡。俗目視為禿物。假使說禪說道。聞如犬吠雷鳴。直饒撥草瞻風。妄見轉成聾瞽。深信古人云。諸佛不出世。四十九年說。祖師不西來。少林有妙訣。如是奇特同參。可謂千里同風。古佛今佛了義者。只說一心。迷悟不同。聲色而見聞各異。世輪忙急。生死剎那。自了而非念。一切我脫。而諸人未解。所以卜庵出手。對境無心。以法界而為道場。化眾生而佛事。凡夫肉眼。動經劫而罕遇道人。萬類含靈。沉溺而不逢正化。所以應化非真。富貴不礙。只欲開人天二路。轉凡為聖。用報皇恩。且令布路修橋。郡邑宰僚。忻利益民無苦楚。商旅逍遙。地水火風。三灾變吉。是知古佛亦假慈悲。現在通方。亦復如是。斯蒙大志。開此大心。直指淨樂。白眉香緘空墜。八部龍神。和光同喜。千年枯木忽開花。久溺驪珠今日現。知縣朝議大居士。興隆佛法真人子。千億珍重。

> Self-awakened, without a teacher. The mind is greatly liberated—neither empty nor attached. The old man Puan, in the stillness of the Dharma assembly, having long departed from the realms of names and forms, raises a single wisp of fine incense and proclaims: "Billions of sands of Buddhas all enter the realm of light and fragrance. Bodhisattvas and the primordial known together offer reverence. With one mind pervading all realms, every dust mote and field is gathered. One word penetrates everything—nothing goes unanswered. Thus we know that the imperial ancestors and noble clans all revere the good roots of Prajna. Now, for the sake of the world, I set forth the essential points, revealing the hidden and the manifest in full interpenetration." It is fortunate that the magistrate of Pingxiang County has appeared in the world. Within, he harbors the joy of Chan; without, he serves as the leader of agricultural encouragement. No principle eludes him; no matter escapes his care. Near and far are one; past and present are not two. This old one, long merged with the constant light, deeply knows how difficult it is to extend a helping hand. In these final ages, with rampant demons, companions are rarely found. The treasury of teachings is understood—yet not a single word remains. The Buddha body is like empty space. Who truly grasps the meaning and forgets words? Who can comprehend the signless samadhi? Buddha means awakening; all forms are empty. The Dharma-nature is serene, the mind a single ocean seal. A true monk awakens to the Dharma, untouched by dust. In movement and stillness, the body merges with suchness. Every gesture points to the mind seal. Deluded followers are hard to transform; they cling to things, like relying on yellow leaves to stop a child's cries. Fenggan chattered too much. If one enters the true school's gate, even a thousand kalpas cannot repay. Yet unavoidable—we use one mirror for both Hu and Han, full light shining through. All myriad forms are illusion. Thus the \*Perfect Enlightenment Sutra\* says: "When illusions cease, enlightenment is complete. The awakened mind is unmoving." For over twenty years, I have waited by a tree stump for rabbits, just like facing the wall at Shaolin. My seeing and hearing seem dull; worldly eyes regard me as a shaven nothing. Even if I speak of Chan or the Way, others hear it like a dog barking at thunder. Even if I part the grass to observe the wind, deluded views turn into deafness and blindness. I deeply trust the ancients: "Buddhas do not appear in the world—yet for forty-nine years they taught. Patriarchs did not come from the West—yet Shaolin holds the secret essence." Such is the wonder of fellow practitioners—truly, a thousand miles share the same wind. The ancient Buddhas and present Buddhas speak but of one mind. Delusion and awakening differ; forms and sounds are perceived differently. The wheel of the world spins urgently; birth and death are but a moment. I have understood myself, without a single thought. I am freed, yet others have not yet understood. Thus, Bu'an extends his hand—facing circumstances without a grasping mind. The Dharma realm itself is the place of practice; transforming beings is the Buddha's work. Ordinary fleshly eyes, through many kalpas, rarely meet a true cultivator. All kinds of sentient beings sink and drown, never encountering the right teaching. Thus, responsive manifestations are not the real; wealth and rank do not obstruct. I only wish to open the two paths of gods and humans, turning the ordinary into the sacred, to repay the emperor's kindness. Moreover, let roads and bridges be built. Officials in the counties and cities rejoice—the people benefit without suffering. Travelers and merchants roam freely. Earth, water, fire, wind—the three calamities turn to auspiciousness. Thus we know that even ancient Buddhas rely on compassion. Those who now penetrate the Way do likewise. I have received this great aspiration, opening this great mind, directly pointing to pure joy. The white-browed one's sealed incense falls empty. The eight classes of dragons and spirits, blending their light, rejoice together. A thousand-year-old withered tree suddenly blooms; the long-drowned pearl of the dragon appears today. Magistrate, councilor, great lay disciple—a true child of the Buddha, reviving the Dharma. A thousand, ten thousand times—take care.