In the sixth year of K’ai-pao (973), the archivist at Kimhae[271] sent a report to the throne, saying that on a certain day and month of that year, a monk of strange appearance[272] wearing a coir-palm hat was seen going to the seashore. On being asked his name and his place of residence, he referred to himself as Vipaśyin[273] and said “Five hundred kalpas ago, I happened to pass through this land, and so formed a karmic link with it. Just recently, seeing that the Three (Kingdoms of) Han had become unified[274] but that the Buddhist teachings had not flourished, I came for a while to the foot of Mount Song’ak to spread the Dharma and the scriptures in accordance with my former vow.[275] Now I intend to go to Japan.” And so saying, he vanished. The king marvelled at this (report), and ordered that the date be determined. It turned out to be the day on which the Master had conformed to the way of the world (and passed away).
This concludes the chapter on his apparent submission to the cycle of birth and death.
When the Master was still alive, he formed a strong bond with King Taesŏng.[276] The king made a vow to build a new monastery called Kwibŏp Monastery, at the foot of Mount Song’ak, and when the monastery was completed, he invited the Master to be its abbot.[277] The Master respectfully called for the burning of incense and the lighting of lamps, so giving guidance to the people and causing the Dharma to flourish.
Once, on the day before he was to deliver a sermon, the Master had the Great Worthy Chŏnŏp compose an Introduction[278] to a sūtra. This composition came to more than ten pages, and Chŏnŏp stepped up and showed it to the Master just as the latter was about to leave for the lecture room. The Master offered incense and set off in procession. Then he glanced through the Introduction once, but when he proceeded to expound it, it was as though he had rehearsed it beforehand. Such were his intelligence and his powers of comprehension.
But alas, bodhisattvas appear because of karmic conditions, and when these conditions are exhausted, they die in this life to be reborn in the next: such is the nature of their work. At the__[279] hour of the seventeenth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of K’ai-pao (973), he passed away[280] at Kwibŏp Monastery and was buried on P’aldŏk Hill, which is a hundred paces or so to the south-east of the monastery. It is a fertile spot where Nature flourishes.
He reached the age of (51) years and had been a monk for __[281] years. Among his talented disciples[282] were Tamnim and Cho, both of whom were eminent members of the Sangha[283] in that generation, and reached the rank of chief monk. And there descended from them a truly great number of disciples, and disciples of these disciples, so that nowadays they are like stalks of paddy or strands of hemp, and are to be found everywhere, some wandering the countryside and others keeping to their home monasteries.
Some time afterwards, Kim Chŏngjun,[284] Prime Minister and Vice-President of the Chancery, saw a phoenix fly away, leaving its nest behind. This reminded him of the Master, and he went to pay his respects in the Master’s quarters, which he subsequently had rebuilt and renamed Nectar Hall. It was for this reason that Ko Chŏng[285] Grand Secretary of the Imperial Chancery, wrote a commemorative account which said, in part:
Wisdom has withered and now roams through Heaven;
The Wheel (of the Dharma)[286] has been shattered and levelled with the dust.
Now Sudhana has departed, and the jewelled pavilions and gemstudded pillars are covered with weeds;[287]
Since Chih Tun left, the green hills and white clouds have changed colour with grief...[288]
and so on.