Menih, ki ga je prevaral tengu

Besedilo

Menih, ki ga je prevaral tengu

Long ago, there was a holy man who had practiced austerities for many years on Mount Ibuki in the province of Mino. He knew nothing but Amida Buddha, and passed his years doing nothing but reciting the nembutsu. One night, as he sat deep in prayer before the Buddha, a voice spoke from the air: “You have placed your trust in me with great devotion. Now that you have accumulated so many recitations of my name, I shall most certainly come to welcome you tomorrow at the hour of the Sheep. Be sure that you do not slacken in your prayers.” Hearing this voice, the holy man recited the nembutsu with boundless fervor. He bathed, burned incense, scattered flowers, and had his disciples join him in prayer as he sat facing west. Presently something began to shimmer. Rubbing his hands together and reciting the nembutsu, he looked and saw golden rays streaming toward him from the Buddha’s body. Like the autumn moon emerging from a break in the clouds, the Buddha appeared, showering flowers of every kind, while light from the white curl between his brows shone upon the holy man. At this, the holy man bowed so low that his backside rose into the air, worshiping with such fervor that the cord of his prayer beads seemed about to snap. Kannon approached him, holding aloft a lotus throne, while purple clouds billowed thickly all around. The holy man shuffled forward and climbed onto the lotus throne, and they departed toward the west. The disciples left behind in his dwelling wept in reverence and offered prayers for their master’s life to come. Seven or eight days later, some of the low-ranking monks at the dwelling went deep into the mountains to gather firewood, intending to heat water so that the monks who recited the nembutsu might bathe. There was a cedar growing out over a waterfall, and from its top they heard a voice crying out. Puzzled, they looked up and saw a monk stripped naked and bound among the highest branches. One of them, who was a good climber, went up to look and found that it was their own holy master, who had supposedly been welcomed into the Pure Land. He had been tied to the tree with vines and left there. “Master, how have you come to such a plight?” the monk asked, drawing near to untie him. But the holy man said, “The Buddha told me, ‘I shall come for you soon. Stay here a little while until then.’ Why are you untying me?” When the monk went on loosening his bonds, he cried, “Amida Buddha! Someone is trying to kill me! Help! Help!” Nevertheless, several of the monks climbed up, untied him, brought him down, and took him back to his dwelling. His disciples were beside themselves with grief at this bitter turn of events. The holy man remained out of his senses and died two or three days later. Thus was a holy man without wisdom deceived by a tengu.