Samguk Yusa

by Ilyon

  The five old temples of Silla—Greater Chakgot, Lesser Chakgot, Sobogot, Ch'onmungot and Kasdgot—were all destroyed during the wars of Samhan (the conflicts leading to the fall of Silla) and the burnt timbers were piled on the ruins of Greater Chakgot Temple. When Chisik (Poyang), the founder of this temple, was returning to Silla from the Middle Kingdom, the King Dragon of the Western Sea welcomed him to his watery palace. The dragon chanted Buddhist scriptures, gave Poyang a gold-laced robe, and commanded his son Imok to escort the monk on his homeward journey, saying, “At present the three kingdoms in your country are at war and are without a king who believes in Buddha, but if you go home with my son and build a temple at Chakgot (Magpie Cape) and live there, you will be safe from attack until a wise king appears who worships Buddha and will pacify the nation.”

  Poyang bade the King Dragon farewell and returned to Chakgot. Here he met an aged monk calling himself Wonkwang who gave him a seal-box and disappeared. In fact, Wonkwang went to China in the closing days of the Chen state and returned to the East (Silla) during the years of Kai-huang. He resided at Kasdgot and died at Hwang-nyong Temple. Had he been alive at the time mentioned he would have been 300 years old. It would seem, therefore, that Poyang, upon returning home, lamented over the ruins of the temples of Silla and had a vision of their restoration in the future.

  Poyang wished to reconstruct a dilapidated temple and climbed the Northern Peak, where he had seen a five-storeyed yellow pagoda. But when he came closer it vanished, and in its place there was a flock of magpies pecking at the ground. Remembering what the King Dragon had said about Chakgot (Magpie Cape), he dug a hole where the birds had been and soon found great quantities of ancient bricks. He built a pagoda of these and founded a new temple nearby, calling it Chakgot-sa. Soon King T'aejo (Wang Kon) unified the country and donated 500 kyol of farmland on the five capes to this temple, honoring Poyang, who lived there.

  In the fourth year of Ch'ing-t'ai (937) Imok, the son of the King Dragon of the Western Sea, took up residence in a deep pool near the temple to help Buddhism flourish in the kingdom. One year a drought withered all the fruit trees and there were not even any vegetables to eat. Poyang commanded Imok to bring rain to refresh the withered vegetation.

  One day Imok told Poyang that a heavenly god was trying to kill him, so the good priest hid the dragon under his bed. Suddenly an angel appeared before Poyang and demanded that he surrender the dragon, but the quick-witted priest pointed to a pear-tree in his garden. Immediately a deafening thunderbolt struck the tree and the angel vanished. The dragon knit together the broken branches and gave new life to the tree. (Some say, Ilyon remarks, that Poyang revived the tree by his magic art.) In recent years this tree fell to the ground, so a man made two staffs from it and placed one each in the Golden Hall and the dining hall of the temple. The staffs bear inscriptions concerning this story.

  When Poyang returned to Silla from China he first lived at Pong-song-sa in Ch'uhwa (Miryang). At that time King T'aejo had set out on his eastern expedition and arrived at Ch'ongdo, where he laid siege to Kyonsong, or Dog Fortress. (Ilyon says it was so called because it was near a projecting rock in the shape of a dog's muzzle on the mountainside.) The men in the fortress refused to surrender, and T'aejo was at his wits' end. He visited Poyang, who lived at the foot of the mountain, and asked him how the stubborn defenders might be brought to submission.

  “The dog keeps vigil by night and sleeps by day,” Poyang told him. “It watches in front but does not look back. If you attack the fortress from the north in broad daylight you will defeat the outlaws who now bark their war-cries at night whenever your soldiers come near.” T'aejo took this advice and, just as the wise monk had foretold, surprised the outlaws in their sleep and forced them to sue for peace. T'aejo admired Poyang's wisdom even in military strategy and conferred annual gifts of fifty large bags of rice on the temple, to keep the censer burning before the portraits of the two sage monks in its Golden Hall, and named the temple Pongsong-sa (Temple of the Sages).

  Some years later Poyang moved to Chakgot. These anecdotes about him are not found in the old biography but there is a Silla legend that he became the blood-brother of Sokkul Pihosa, known also as Piro. The three temples—Pongsong, Sokkul and Unmun—stood above the clouds on the three peaks of the mountain, and communicated frequently with each other.

  Writers in later generations ascribed the stories of the Magpie Pagoda and the dragon's son to the life of Wonkwang and that of the Dog Fortress to Piho, basing themselves on Silla sources and thus creating great confusion. Moreover the author of Haedong Sungjon (Biographies of the Monks of the East) has greatly falsified the life of Poyang with his embellishments.

  99. Yangji's Magic Staff

  (One of the rules of conduct for Buddhist monks is that they shall not be gainfully employed or handle money, but support themselves by begging their food. The layman who gives food to a monk improves his chances of a better life in his next incarnation.)

  Nobody knows who Yangji's ancestors were or where he was born, but the following story is told about him. During the reign of Queen Sondok in Silla (632-647) there lived a monk whose name was Yangji. He had a magical metal staff. He tied a large bag to the end of it and pronounced a spell over it ending with the Buddhist invocation, “Namuami Tabul.” The staff then walked away by itself and visited each house in the neighboring villages. When the housewives heard it clacking on the road they came out and put rice and money in the bag, smiling happily. When the bag was full the staff returned to its master. This went on every day of the monk's life until he died, and the temple where he lived was therefore called Sokjang-sa, the Temple of the Metal Staff.

  Yangji worked many wonders of this sort and was also an artist of great talent, adept at painting, sculpture and calligraphy. The three sixteen-foot images of Buddha and the statue of the heavenly king, besides the roof-tiles and pagodas at Yongmyo-sa (Temple of the Holy Shrine), the eight heavenly generals beneath the pagoda at Ch'Sn-wang-sa (Temple of the Heavenly King), the three images of Buddha at Popnim-sa (Temple of the Buddha Forest), and the Herculean wrestlers guarding the gate of this last temple are all his work. He wrote the inscriptions for the panels at Yongmyo-sa and Popnim-sa, and modeled three thousand Buddhas in beautiful designs on bricks from which he built a small pagoda for his home temple and worshipped it.

  While he was working on the sixteen-foot Buddha image at Yongmyo-sa he modeled the clay while keeping his mind as vacant as a clear mirror (the basic prerequisite for Buddhist meditation). The people of Kyongju competed in supplying him with clay, singing a ballad as they did so: “Coming, coming, this body is coming! Oh how heavy and sad was my heart, but now it is light and gay, for I see Buddha with my own eyes.” Even today the country folk sing this ballad while pounding rice.

  The images Yangji made cost 23,000 large bags of rice. (This may actually be the cost of regilding the images, Ilyon says.) Indeed he was a hidden national treasure both in virtue and accomplishments.

  Song of Praise to Yangji

  When the Buddhist ceremony was duly over,

  The metal staff lay idle in the Golden Hall;

  After burning sandalwood with many incantations,

  There was no more work to do;

  He sculptured statues of perfect beauty

  And gazed upon them with folded hands.

  100. The Monks Who Traveled to India

  (As will have been seen in other sections, knowledge of India was vague even in Ilyon's own time. The name Ch'onch'uk-kuk means land of the heavenly bamboos, and its division into five kingdoms simply corresponds to the five directions—the four points of the compass plus the center.)

  In the Kwangham Kupop-jon (Biographies of the High Monks) it is written that Arina (Ariya) Palma, the monk, was a native of Silla. In order to study the Buddhist religion he first traveled to China, where he was encouraged to make an extensive pilgrimage to various holy places in India. During the years of Chen-kuan (627-650) he depa
rted from Changan and made his way to the five Ch'onch'uk kingdoms of India. There he stayed at Naranta Temple and studied books of Buddhist doctrine and commentaries, which he copied out on the leaves of the Paitara tree in order to take them back to Silla. But unfortunately he was taken ill on the eve of his departure and died at the temple. He was then more than seventy years old.

  Later other Silla monks including Hyeop, Hyont'ae, Kupon, Hyonkak, Hyeryun, Hyonyu and two others (whose names are lost) journeyed to Middle India to study Buddhism. Some died on the way and some arrived safely and resided at temples, but none ever returned to Kerim (Silla) or to China except Hyont'ae. However, nobody knows where he died.

  The people of Ch'onch'uk called Haedong (Silla) Kukuta-Yesolla. Kukuta means chicken and Yesolla means dear. The combination of the two Chinese characters for these words is Kekwi, which is another name for Kerim. The Indians said that the Silla people worshipped the god of chickens and wore cocks' feathers about their persons as decorations.

  Song of Praise to the Monks who Traveled to India

  Over ten thousand peaks far away to Ch'onch'uk

  The pilgrims climbed and climbed on weary feet:

  How many times have their lone ships sailed from the east!

  Once gone, they returned no more;

  Year after year the floating clouds sail back

  Yet we never hear the tap of their staffs journeying homeward.

  101. Miracles of Hyesuk and Hyegong

  The monk Hyesuk was in his youth a follower of Hoserang, one of the most renowned of the Hwarang of Silla. When his master was excluded from this order, Hyesuk retired to a mountain villa called Chokson-ch'on (Chokkok-ch'on in Ankang-hyon), where he led the life of a religious recluse for twenty years.

  One day Kugam, a noble Hwarang came riding to hunt in the mountains near his residence. Hyesuk ran out to meet him and held his horse's head. “Welcome, master,” he said. “Permit me to follow you in the hunt. I can keep up with your steed on my flying feet.”

  “Fine!” said Kugam. “Come along, then.” They had a long chase-over the hills, and when they had killed many birds and animals with their arrows they sat down to rest while the meat was cooked and fell into conversation.

  “I have some meat more delicious than this,” Hyesuk said. “May I serve it to you?”

  “Good, bring it,” said Kugam. “I have a good appetite today.'*

  Hyesuk thereupon cut a piece of flesh from his thigh with a sharp knife and set it before Kugam. “Please help yourself,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” Kugam exclaimed in astonishment.

  Then Hyesuk admonished him. “I thought you were a kind-hearted gentleman and merciful to your fellow creatures, so I followed you in admiration of your high virtues. But now I see that you are a cruel and selfish man who likes to kill living creatures, doing harm to others in order to fill your stomach. This is not the way of benevolence and you do not belong to our order.” And with these words he went away.

  “Ah, the sad day,” said Kugam, blushing with shame. “But what is this? I have eaten my fill, and yet the table is still spread with the same dishes and appears untouched.”

  Kugam returned and told his strange story to King Chinp'yong-The King thought that Hyesuk must be an uncommon monk, and sent an official to fetch him to the court. When the official arrived he found Hyesuk (as he thought) lying in bed with a woman, and cursing him for his shameless breach of Buddhist law turned back. But he had gone only seven or eight li when he met the same monk coming from the opposite direction. “Hello, good monk,” he said, “where have you been?” ' “I have been at a rich man's house in the city.” Hyesuk said. “I officiated at a memorial service and offered prayers for the departed soul for seven days, and now I am returning to my home in the mountains.”

  The official went and reported his experience at court. Puzzled, the-King sent a messenger to the house Hyesuk had mentioned and found that indeed the monk had been there when he said he was.

  Not long after this Hyesuk died and the village people buried him on a hill east of E-hyon (Ear Pass). But while his friends were still crowded around the grave a traveler arrived from the other side of E-hyon who said that he had just met Hyesuk over the hill. When asked where he was going, Hyesuk had said, “I have lived too long in this mountain village and now I am going on a sight-seeing trip.” Then, the traveller said, the monk had mounted a cloud and soared into the sky about half a mile from where he had said goodbye. Amazed, the villagers dug into the grave they had just finished, and found in it only one of the monk's old shoes.

  Even today there is a temple called Hyesuk-sa north of Ankang-hyon, where the mysterious monk lived, and visitors can see his image in bas-relief on one of its walls.

  Another famous Silla monk was named Hyegong. He was the son of a woman servant in the house of Ch'onjin-kong and his childhood name was Ujo. One day the master of the house was taken seriously ill with a malignant growth, and felt that death was approaching. The house was constantly full of people, noble and common, who came to enquire after his health. Ujo was only seven years old, but he knew that something unusual had happened.

  “O my mother,” the child said, “What has brought so many people into this house?”

  “Don't you know,” she replied, “that the master of the house is very sick, and lies upon his deathbed?”

  “I can cure his disease,” said Ujo.

  “What! You can, can you?”

  “Yes I can.”

  With a wondering heart the woman told Ch'onjin-kong what her child had said, and the nobleman sent a servant to fetch the lad. When Ujo appeared he sat down at the foot of the sick man's bed with his mouth shut tight. Then suddenly the abscess burst and the patient was saved. Ch'onjin-kong did not wonder greatly at this, however, considering it to have been a mere coincidence.

  When Ujo had grown into a youth he tamed Ch'onjin-kong's pet falcon, and was such a good fowler that his master could not help liking him. One day Ch'onjin-kong's younger brother set out on a long journey to take up a new official post in the country and took this hawk with him by permission of the nobleman. But one night Ch'onjin-kong bethought him of his faraway falcon and decided to send Ujo to bring it back early the next morning.

  Ujo knew the mind of his master. Magically, he brought the falcon back in an instant and presented it to Ch'onjin-kong before daybreak. The latter reflected that this was the same lad who had cured his abscess earlier. “I did not know a great sage was living in my house,” he exclaimed, “and I abused him with mad words and discourtesy. How can I apologize enough to you? And he stepped down into the courtyard and made a low bow to the fowler boy.

  When Ujo's wonder-workings had become widely known in the world he became a monk, changing his name to Hyegong, and went to live at a small temple. He often drank wine like a whale and staggered about the streets singing and dancing like a madman, with a pan-shaped refuse basket slung over his shoulder. The people called him Pugwe-Hwasang (Basket-carrying monk) and named his temple Pugae-sa (a corruption of Pugwe-sa).

  He often went down into the temple well and would not come out for two or three months, so this well was named after him. When he did come out a heavenly being dressed in blue was sure to precede him. Stranger still, even though he had been sitting in the water for so long, his robe never got wet.

  Late in life he went to live at Hangsa-sa (now Oo-sa in Yongil-hyon), where he associated with the great monk Wonhyo, who was then compiling a commentary on the Buddhist scriptures. Wonhyo asked him all sorts of difficult questions which he did not understand, but he would always answer quickly and in jest. One day the two monks went fishing and made a good catch. While they were eating some of the fish on a rock, Hyegong laughingly said, “You eat my fish.” From that time the people called the temple 05-sa (My Fish Temple.)

  One day when Kugam-kong was out on a picnic he found the body of Hyegong on a mountain path, mouldering in the open air and infested with maggots. He mo
urned over the body of the faithful follower of his Hwarang days and returned to Kyongju, where he found Hyegong singing and dancing merrily in his cups. (This sounds as if Hyegong had gotten confused with Hyesuk.)

  Another time Hyegong twisted rice-straw into a long rope and wrapped it round and round the Golden Hall and the south gate tower of Yongmyo-sa. Then he said to the chief monk, “Undo this fastening in three days and you will see a miracle.” The dumbfounded monk followed his directions and sure enough, in three days the beautiful Queen Sondok visited the temple and the flames of Chigwi, the “Love fire of the heart” swallowed the temple pagoda, but the Golden Hall and the tower were not damaged.1

  Myongnang, the founder of Sinin-sa (Heavenly Seal Temple) also founded Kumgang-sa (Diamond Temple) and held a ceremony on this occasion in which the nation's most eminent monks participated. Hyegong was absent, and it was not until after Myongnang had lighted incense and chanted prayers that he appeared in the temple. He came through a heavy downpour but his robe was not wet, nor were his feet soiled with mud. He smiled at Myongnang and said, “You called me, so here I am.”

  After working countless wonders like this he disappeared into the sky, from which thousands of sari fell to earth. While in this life he read the “Commentary on Buddha” by one Cho, an illustrious monk, and said, “This book was written by myself long, long ago.” From this it would appear that Cho was one of his previous incarnations.

  (Some of the antics of Hyegong are strongly suggestive of the tenets of the Son (Zen) sect, which held that the study of scripture was worthless and that only pure meditation could bring salvation. The apparently pointless tricks of the monks of this sect were intended to detach the neophyte's mind from the logic and conventions of the material world so that it might more readily penetrate to the spiritual reality behind it and thus achieve enlightenment.)