124. Seeing Off a Monk Returning to Japan | Qian Qi
Text
English translation
Original Chinese text
上国随缘住，来途若梦行。
English translation
In the upper land he dwells as karma leads; the road by which he came seems a journey in a dream.
"The upper land" is how the monk refers to China. "Following karma" is Buddhist language, here suggesting both an unsettled itinerary and a mind without attachment.
Original Chinese text
浮天沧海远，去世法舟轻。
English translation
The vast sea floats to the sky and lies far off; leaving the world, the Dharma boat travels light.
"The Dharma boat" is a Buddhist figure: the Dharma ferries people across as a boat does. "Light" describes the vessel and the absence of hindrance alike.
Original Chinese text
水月通禅寂，鱼龙听梵声。
English translation
The moon in the water is infused with the stillness of Zen; fish and dragons listen to the sound of your chanting.
"Water moon" is the scriptural image of the moon in water, standing for the unreality of all things. The image of fish and dragons listening to chanting extends the sermon's effect into the underwater world.
Original Chinese text
惟怜一灯影，万里眼中明。
English translation
I only cherish the glow of a single lamp; across ten thousand li it is bright in the eye.
"One lamp" is both the monk's lamp and the lamp of the transmitted teaching. "Bright in the eye across ten thousand li" is where the poem lands: the man leaves, the light stays.
赏析 · Commentary
写给一位日本僧人的送别诗 · A Farewell for a Japanese Monk
被送的人是一位从日本渡海来唐求法的僧人。写这样的对象，最难的是既要写行程，又要写身份。钱起的办法是全诗用佛家语贯穿：随缘、法舟、禅寂、梵声、一灯。这些词既是实指（僧人、船、诵经、灯），又是譬喻（无执、渡人、传法）。双层的写法让一首送别诗带上了经文的质地。
The person seen off was a monk who had crossed the sea from Japan to seek the teaching in Tang China. Writing such a subject, the difficulty is covering both the journey and the vocation. Qian Qi's solution is to thread Buddhist language through the whole poem: karma, dharma boat, meditative stillness, chanting, one lamp. Every term is literal (a monk, a boat, a recitation, a lamp) and figurative (non-attachment, ferrying, transmission). The double layer gives a farewell the texture of scripture.
「万里眼中明」好在哪里 · Where "Bright Across Ten Thousand Li" Succeeds
末句是全诗的落点。前面写的是僧人渡海远去，写的是分别；末句忽然把光留了下来。灯在海那边亮着，也在送行人的眼里亮着，万里是距离，「明」是抵消距离的东西。钱起没有说舍不得，也没有祝福平安，只写了一盏灯，诗意却完整了——因为灯是传法的象征，法不断，人就不算真走。
The last line is where the poem lands. Everything before is a monk crossing the sea, a parting; then a light is left behind. The lamp burns on the far shore and in the eyes of the man seeing him off. Ten thousand li is distance and "bright" is what cancels it. Qian Qi says nothing about reluctance and wishes no safe journey; he writes one lamp and the poem is complete — because a lamp stands for transmission, and while the teaching continues, the man has not really gone.
送别诗的两种收法 · Two Ways to End a Farewell
唐诗的送别结尾大致有两路：一路写空（青山空向人、风尘何处期），一路写不空（一灯影、月照一孤舟）。这首诗走的是第二路，用物象对抗距离。选哪一路，取决于送别的性质——送僧人回国，写「空」就不合适，因为他带走了法。钱起的用词是跟着题材走的，这也是这首诗比一般送别诗耐读的原因。
Tang farewells tend to end one of two ways: on emptiness (hills empty before a man; where will we meet amid the dust) or on non-emptiness (one lamp; moonlight on a single boat). This poem takes the second, fighting distance with an object. Which way to go depends on what the parting is: for a monk returning home, emptiness would be wrong, since he carries the teaching away with him. Qian Qi's diction follows his subject, and that is why the poem outlasts the ordinary farewell.