---
title: "布水臺集 · 復聖月錢居士"
description: "布水臺集是明末清初高僧道忞所著的一部别集，收录于中央图书馆善本书目集部别集类。道忞禅师是临济宗高僧，明末遗民，清初应顺治帝召请入京，对清初佛教政策有重要影响。该书汇集了他的诗文、法语、书信等作品，内容涉及禅宗思想、修行体悟、时事感怀及与士大夫的交游，是研究其生平、明末清初佛教史及禅宗思想的重要文献。作为明清之际佛教著述的代表，布水臺集不仅展现了高僧的文学修养与禅学境界，也为后世理解该时期佛教与社会的互动提供了珍贵史料。"
url: "https://rushiwowen.co/en/r/cmgn0ydkd19o4jl04slp3fgkx"
---

### 復聖月錢居士

> Reverend Layman Yue Qian

日者光賁林泉奉塵三夕，至今彷彿間猶有十影神駒在心眼中，以貧道風波摧拉之餘，所謂爨後焦桐耳！不謂賞音有足下，人亦有言：「眾人皆欲殺，吾意獨憐才。」足下第憐之已耳！翊揚雅度，則逢彼之怒，恐非所以愛貧道也。冬風漸肅，惟珍重四大。弗備。

又附來書

癸秋一別倏忽五季，玄黃異變，傷心酸鼻，偶從雲水緇流，訊知道體清佳，宗風弘暢，大慰遠懷。若繡三載之內喪父失偶，破卵覆巢，與死俱生，與憂俱老，屢欲皈命導師芟染從事，而三喪未舉，胤嗣乏人，不能遽逃世網，然百念已灰、在家如客，非久終當為所欲為耳！為法鬥爭已屬師門不幸，近者復欲牽入世諦為人罪案，清夜捫心，何以自解？光繡路見不平，出語每多憤激，知我罪我，自可聽之。若和尚汪度天淵，諸方贊誦愈切皈依。仲尼，日月也。其何傷于日月乎？頃因鴻便艸率，泐候秋冬之際，當趼足五磊，受和尚辣手鉗鎚，圖箇出處，慈腸或不我棄耳！外附小刻詩箋呈覽，臨楮不勝瞻戀。

> It has been five seasons since our parting in late autumn, and the world has changed beyond recognition. The sorrow cuts deep. Through wandering monks and recluses, I have heard that your practice is flourishing and your Dharma teaching is spreading far and wide—this brings great comfort to my distant heart. Within three years, I have lost my father and my wife. My home has been shattered, my nest overturned. I live alongside death and age with grief. Time and again, I have wished to take refuge under your guidance and shave my head to join the monastic life, but three funeral rites remain unfinished, and there is no heir to carry on the family line. I cannot yet escape the binds of the world. Still, all my aspirations have turned to ashes—though I remain at home, I am like a guest in my own house. Before long, I will surely do what I must do. The struggle over the Dharma has already been a misfortune for our lineage, and now others seek to drag worldly affairs into the matter as if they were crimes. In the quiet of the night, I search my heart—how can I justify this? I, Guangxiu, cannot stand by when I see injustice. My words may often be sharp and impassioned, but whether one knows me or blames me, I let it be. As for you, venerable master, your magnanimity is as vast as the heavens. The praise and admiration from all quarters only deepens our devotion to you. Confucius is like the sun and moon—how can any slight diminish their light? Taking advantage of a convenient messenger, I have hastily written this letter. When autumn turns to winter, I will travel on foot to Wulei, to receive your fierce and skillful guidance, seeking a way forward. I trust your compassionate heart will not abandon me. Enclosed is a small volume of poems for your perusal. As I set down my brush, I am filled with longing and reverence.

世界等空華，人生如幻夢，幻成幻壞、幻生幻死、幻合幻離，乾坤之內、身世之交，無適而非幻者。惟至人了知是幻，故在哀而不傷、處樂而不淫、遇寵而不驚、當辱而不屈，皎若夌空之月、飄若出岫之雲，雖汩爾塵緣之中，而塵緣自不能為之纇也。門下曠心達識，固有芥于此乎！若夫貧道求全之毀，敢謂能自超然幻眎？抑深知薄福所召，日惟反躬是省，乃不意動高明激烈之懷，則罪過正復不淺矣！披讀先帝哀辭，令人哭不成聲，時情隱中，自當與麥秀黍離共譒千秋，豈曰一時傳誦已哉？何日晤言寫此鬱思？

> The world is like flowers in the sky—empty illusions; life is but a dream. Illusions form and illusions dissolve, illusions are born and illusions die, illusions unite and illusions part. Within heaven and earth, throughout the course of our lives, nothing is without illusion. Only the awakened ones truly understand this illusory nature. Thus, in sorrow they do not grieve, in joy they do not indulge, in favor they are not startled, in disgrace they do not bend. They shine bright as the moon floating in the void, drift free as clouds emerging from the mountains. Though immersed in the dust of worldly entanglement, that dust cannot leave a single stain upon them. One with a broad heart and penetrating understanding—surely such things are but a mustard seed to you! As for me, a poor monk, how dare I claim to transcend all illusions myself? I know well that my limited blessings have drawn these troubles upon me; each day I can only reflect inward on my own faults. Yet I never expected to stir such intense and lofty feelings from you—truly, my guilt is not slight! When I read His Late Majesty's elegy, I wept until I could no longer form words. The hidden emotions within—surely they shall be passed down through a thousand autumns alongside "The Wheat Waves" and "The Millet Field," not merely praised for a single generation. When might we meet to pour out this deep brooding?

## 布水臺集卷第三十