泣訴師恩 Weeping for the Master
沙僧攙著行者，一同到松林之下坐定。少時間，卻定神順氣，止不住淚滴腮邊。又叫：「師父啊！沙僧搀着行者，一同到松林之下坐定。少时间，却定神顺气，止不住泪滴腮边。又叫：「师父啊！
逐句解 Line by line
Sha the Monk supported the Pilgrim, and together they went beneath the pine-wood and sat down.
沙僧攙著行者 ‘Sha supported the Pilgrim (攙 chān)’: 著 zhe (durative). 一同 (一 before 同 t2 → yì). A quiet prose opening to the lament.
After a little while, when he had steadied his spirit and calmed his breath, he could not stop the tears dripping down his cheeks.
少時間 ‘after a little while’: 少 shǎo (‘a little’); 間 jiān. 定神順氣 ‘steadied spirit and calmed breath’. 止不住淚滴腮邊 ‘could not stop the tears (腮 sāi, cheek)’ (不 before 住 t4 → bú). Wukong's grief, recovered enough to weep.
And he cried again: ‘Master! —
又叫 ‘cried again’: 叫 jiào. The prose lead into the lament that follows; the verse is the content of Wukong's cry.
I recall those years of old, when we set out from Great Tang; before the cliff you saved me and freed me from calamity.
憶昔當年 ‘recalling that year of old’: 當 dāng (temporal). 巖前救我脫災殃 ‘before the cliff you saved me from calamity’ — Tripitaka's freeing of Wukong from beneath the Mountain of Five Phases (Ch.14). The 七律 lament opens with gratitude.
Through three mountains and six waters we met with demon-snares; ten thousand hardships, a thousand toils, cut me to the inmost gut.
三山六水遭魔障 ‘three mountains, six waters, met demon-obstacles (魔障)’. 萬苦千辛割寸腸 ‘ten thousand pains, a thousand toils, cut the inch-gut (寸腸)’: 寸 cùn (the length-unit, here figurative for the innards). The pilgrimage's trials recalled.
With alms-bowl at morning's meal, taking rich fare or poor; in Chan at dusk we lodged, now in a wood, now a hamlet.
托缽朝餐 ‘alms-bowl at the morning meal’: 朝 read zhāo (‘morning’, 朝餐暮宿 ‘eat at morning, lodge at dusk’), not the cháo default. 隨厚薄 ‘taking thick or thin (薄 bó)’. 參禪暮宿 ‘in Chan-practice lodging at dusk’: 參 cān (參禪 ‘to practise Chan’). The austere life of the road.
Single-minded I hoped to achieve the fruit of merit; how could I have known that today I would suffer such grievous hurt?
一心指望成功果 ‘single-mindedly hoped to achieve the merit-fruit’ (一 before 心 t1 → yì). 今日安知痛受傷 ‘how could [I] know today's grievous wound?’ The lament closes on the bitter reversal of the chapter's defeat.
Wukong's lament is a regulated 七律 (eight lines, four couplets) and a rare moment of the Great Sage's tenderness. Cradled by Sha after his near-death, he weeps not for himself but for the master — recalling how Tripitaka freed him from beneath the Mountain of Five Phases (巖前救我), the shared hardships of the road, and the austere pilgrim's life of alms-bowl and roadside Chan.
The closing couplet turns the gratitude to grief: ‘single-minded I hoped to achieve the fruit of merit — how could I have known that today I would suffer such hurt?’ The verse marks the chapter's emotional low point. The Great Sage, beaten and broken, can see no way forward by his own power — which is precisely what makes the turn to Guanyin, in the scene that follows, both necessary and humbling.