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¤£¤j¤£¤p¡A«D¥h«D¨Ó¡F
·L¹Ð¥@¬É¡A¥æ¬M½¬»O¡C
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Neither great nor small,
Neither come nor gone,
In worlds as many as motes of dust,
They shine upon each others' lotus thrones.
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¦³±¡Ä±®©¡A¸õ¥X¹Ð®J¡F ¤»«×¸U¦æ¡A®É¨è°ö®â¡C
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Sentient beings when enlightened
Leap out of the dust.
Their six perfections and ten thousand practices
At all times are nurtured.
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½tı¸t½å¡A©t®p¿W¯v¡F ¬Kªá¬îÁ¡A¤Q¤G³sÀô¡C
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The holy sages enlightened to conditions
Doze high on mountain peaks alone.
Springtime's flowers wither in the fall
In a cycle of twelve interconnecting links.
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Án»D²³¹¬¡A¤£½×¤k¨k¡F ¥|¿ÍÆ[¦æ¡AÁô¹ê¥ÜÅv¡C
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The Shravaka Sangha,
Both men and women,
Contemplate and practice the four holy truths,
Concealing the real and displaying the provisional.
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¦¹¬OW¡A¹G¢©Ê¡C
¦¹¬O¶°¡A©Û·P©Ê¡C
¦¹¬O·À¡A¥iÃÒ©Ê¡C
¦¹¬O¹D¡A¥iשʡC
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This is suffering, it's nature is oppression;
This is accumulation, it's nature is enticement;
This is cessation, it's nature is that it can be realized.
This is the Way, it's nature is that it can be cultivated;
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¦¹¬OW¡A¦¼À³ª¾¡C
¦¹¬O¶°¡A¦¼À³Â_¡C
¦¹¬O·À¡A¦¼À³ÃÒ¡C
¦¹¬O¹D¡A¦¼À³×¡C
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This is suffering, you should know it;
This is accumulation, you should cut it off;
This is cessation, you should realize it;
This is the Way, you should cultivate it.
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¦¹¬OW¡A§Ú¤wª¾¡A¤£´_§óª¾¡C
¦¹¬O¶°¡A§Ú¤wÂ_¡A¤£´_§óÂ_¡C
¦¹¬O·À¡A§Ú¤w·À¡A¤£´_§ó·À¡C
¦¹¬O¹D¡A§Ú¤wסA¤£´_§óסC
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This is suffering, I already know it and need not
know it again;
This is accumulation, I have already cut it off and
need not cut it off again;
This is cessation, I have already realized it, and
need not realize it any more;
This is the Way, I have already cultivated it and
need not cultivate it any more.
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¤»±ý±ë¤Ñ¡A¤§Ù¤Qµ½¡F ºØ¦³º|¦]¡A½ü°jÃøÂ_¡C
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The six desire and Brahma gods,
With five precepts and ten good acts,
Plant seeds that have outflows,
So the turning wheel is hard to stop.
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×ù©Ê¼É¡A¦³ºÖµLÅv¡F ¦n«i°«¬½¡A¯B¨H·~²o¡C
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Asuras have a violent nature;
Laden with blessings, lacking power,
Absolutely determined to fight,
They bob along in karma's tow.
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¤H¹D©M¦X¡A¥\¸o¬Û¶¡¡F ¼w¤ÉÄ^°¡A°Z¦³¥L²j¡I
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The way of people is harmony,
With merit and offenses interspersed.
On virtuous deeds you rise, offenses make you fall;
It has nothing to do with anyone else at all.
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¯b¥Í¦n³g¡A¦h¦ÓµL¹½¡F
±N¶Â§@¥Õ¡A¬O«D²ö¿ë¡C
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Eager animals feed on greed,
Never sated by a lot.
Because they make what's black white,
They don't distinguish wrong from right.
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°Ãþ³ß½Q¡A¬NªG°g¦]¡F µL©úÄAË¡A¤é¿n¤ë²`¡C
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The ghostly crew delights in hate,
Deluded by effects, confused about cause.
Their ignorance and upside-downness
Grow greater each day, deeper each month.
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¦aº»¼~W¡AµLªù¦ÛÆp¡F
°_´b³y·~¡A¨ü³ø´`Àô¡C
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The hells' anxiety and suffering
Is devoid of doors, yet one bores right in.
Giving rise to delusion, deeds are done.
The retribution is borne in due accord.
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Depressed and melancholy, you roam through the hells;
Happy and smiling, you enjoy eternal youth;
Weeping and woe make a small dark room in the hells.
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¤Q¬É¤@¤ß¡A¤£Â÷·í©À¡F
¯àı¦¹©À¡A¥ßµn©¼©¤¡C
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All of these ten realms¡Ða single thought¡Ð
Are not apart from your present thought.
If you can understand that thought,
You immediately reach the other shore.
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¡@ |
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