柏上簡帖 The Note on the Cypress
三藏聞言，合掌頂禮。又只見那後邊古柏樹上，飄飄蕩蕩的掛著一張簡帖兒。沙僧急去取來與師父看時，卻是八句頌子云：三藏闻言，合掌顶礼。又只见那后边古柏树上，飘飘荡荡的挂著一张简帖儿。沙僧急去取来与师父看时，却是八句颂子云：
逐句解 Line by line
Hearing this, Tripitaka pressed his palms together and bowed his head in reverence.
合掌頂禮 “joined palms and made obeisance,” the monk's gesture of homage (三藏, 藏 zàng) — Tripitaka's devout acknowledgment of the bodhisattvas' visitation.
Then they saw, on an old cypress tree behind them, a slip of paper hanging and fluttering in the breeze.
那後邊 那 nà; 古柏樹上 “upon the old cypress,” 上 the locative. 掛著一張簡帖 “a note hanging there,” 著 the durative zhe (兒 the suffix). The bodhisattvas have left word behind.
Sha Monk hurried to fetch it for the master to read, and it proved to be an eight-line gatha, which ran:
八句頌子云 “an eight-line sòng (gatha) that says,” 頌子, 子 the suffix zi — the storyteller's tag ushering in the verse of revelation.
The Old Mother of Mount Li had no yearning for the mundane; / the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea invited her down the mountain.
黎山老母 the Old Mother of Mount Li, a goddess — the “widow” of the night's trial. 南海菩薩 the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea, i.e. Guanyin, who convened the test. 不思凡 “not longing for the dust-world.”
Samantabhadra and Manjusri were both the guests; / they took the form of fair maidens amid the grove.
普賢文殊 the bodhisattvas Samantabhadra (普賢) and Manjusri (文殊), attendants of the Buddha — here two of the “daughters.” 化成美女 “transformed into beauties,” the four saints' disguise now named.
The holy monk, being virtuous, was yet free of the worldly; / Bajie, lacking Chan, was the more full of the mundane.
聖僧有德還無俗 “the holy monk has virtue and is still without worldliness,” 還 hái (“still”) — praise of Tripitaka's steadfastness. 八戒無禪更有凡 “Bajie, without meditation, has all the more of the mortal,” 更 gèng (“the more”), the contrast pointed against Bajie's failure.
From now, still your mind and mend your faults; / should you grow slack, the road ahead is hard.
靜心須改過 “calm the mind and reform.” 若生怠慢路途難 “if negligence arises, the journey will be arduous,” 難 nán — the bodhisattvas' parting admonition to the pilgrims.
Tripitaka's reverent bow gives way to a further sign: a slip of paper fluttering on an old cypress behind them. Sha Monk fetches it, and it proves to be an eight-line gatha — the bodhisattvas' own account of the night's trial, left behind as both explanation and lesson.
The verse names the four saints at last. The “widow” was the Old Mother of Mount Li; the Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea — Guanyin — had convened the test; and the bodhisattvas Samantabhadra and Manjusri were the “guests,” taking on the shapes of the fair daughters. The elaborate seduction is revealed as a coordinated probing of the pilgrims' discipline, staged by the highest powers watching over the journey.
The gatha's second half draws the moral balance. Tripitaka, virtuous, kept free of the worldly; Bajie, void of Chan-discipline, proved all the more a creature of appetite. And its close is an exhortation for the road ahead — still the mind, mend the faults, for negligence will make the pilgrimage hard. The chapter's didactic purpose stands fully disclosed: the trial was mercy in the guise of temptation, and its record a warning inscribed for all four to read.