TL;DR: Cáo tật thị chúng (meaning declaring one's illness to everyone) is a Chinese-character kệ verse by Mãn Giác thiền sư (Zen master Mãn Giác) of the Lý dynasty, recorded in Thiền uyển tập anh. The first four lines tell of spring going and spring coming, of worldly affairs drifting past before one's eyes, and of old age arriving from above one's head; the last two lines break that way of thinking: do not say spring is over and the flowers have all fallen, for last night a single branch of plum already stood before the courtyard. This is a religious and literary text, not a prophecy about personal fate.
Who was Mãn Giác thiền sư and in what circumstances was the verse composed?
Mãn Giác thiền sư was a monk of the Lý dynasty. According to Thiền uyển tập anh, at the end of 1096 he announced his illness and composed this verse to tell everyone; the title Cáo tật thị chúng was given by Lê Quý Đôn[1].
The verse bears the Chinese title 告疾示眾 (Cáo tật thị chúng), literally meaning to speak to everyone on the occasion of being ill. This naming shows it is not a formal sermon treatise, but a message uttered in a specific circumstance: when the author was ill and wanted to restate the essential point for his followers.
As to dating, Thiền uyển tập anh records the verse at the end of 1096; other details of Mãn Giác's life rest mostly on that same work, so when reading, the text should be separated from the stories around the author.
Full Chinese text, romanisation and meaning
The Chinese original of the verse in the commonly copied version has six lines:
春去百花落，春到百花開。事逐眼前過，老從頭上來。莫謂春殘花落盡，庭前昨夜一枝梅。
Hán Việt romanisation:
Xuân khứ bách hoa lạc, Xuân đáo bách hoa khai. Sự trục nhãn tiền quá, Lão tòng đầu thượng lai. Mạc vị xuân tàn hoa lạc tận, Đình tiền tạc dạ nhất chi mai.
Meaning: Spring departs, a hundred flowers fall; spring returns, a hundred flowers bloom. Worldly affairs pass right before the eyes; old age arrives from above the head. Do not say spring has ended and flowers have fallen away; last night, before the courtyard, a branch of plum[1].
The poetic translation by Ngô Tất Tố as recorded in the source text:
Xuân ruổi trăm hoa rụng Xuân tới, trăm hoa cười Trước mắt việc đi mãi Trên đầu già đến rồi Đừng bảo xuân tàn hoa rụng hết Đêm qua, sân trước một nhành mai[1]
Ngô Tất Tố's rendering chooses the word cười (laugh) for blooming flowers, creating a rhythm of its own that the plain meaning translation lacks.
Why is the verse called Cáo tật thị chúng?
Cáo tật thị chúng is a name given by function: on the occasion of illness, to thị chúng, that is, to present before the assembly. In the Zen tradition, speaking to the assembly when nearing death or while ill is a form of final testament, not merely a poem. The verse therefore carries both a literary and a religious character: it is a last teaching, usually short, usually using concrete images rather than lengthy argument.
In the context of Lý dynasty Buddhism, Zen masters often used verses to convey the core of the teaching to disciples. A verse is a rhymed form, easy to remember, easy to chant, and able to hold many layers of meaning. A six-line verse such as Cáo tật thị chúng must therefore be read as a guide to practice, not as a purely descriptive poem.
What do the first two lines say about the law of arising and ceasing?
First two lines: Spring departs, a hundred flowers fall; spring returns, a hundred flowers bloom. This is direct observation, nothing mystical. When spring comes flowers bloom, when spring goes flowers fall. What is noteworthy is that the author does not stop at describing scenery, but uses that scenery as a background to speak of human life.
In the Buddhist worldview, arising and ceasing is the law of all conditioned phenomena. Flowers blooming then fading is the most visible expression of impermanence. But note: the verse does not say everything is meaningless because of impermanence. It merely records the operation: what comes then goes, what blooms then falls. This is the first layer of the verse.
Why say worldly affairs pass before the eyes and old age comes from above the head?
Next two lines: Worldly affairs pass right before the eyes; old age arrives from above the head. This is a shift from scenery to person. Worldly affairs here are the events of daily life, drifting past the eyes, not stopping. Old age coming from above the head is a concrete image of growing old.
Are the last two lines a denial of the idea of impermanence?
Last two lines: Do not say spring has ended and flowers have fallen away; last night, before the courtyard, a branch of plum. This is the closing line, and also the line that gives rise to many different readings.
First reading, common in literary teaching: these two lines break the pessimistic conclusion. When people see spring fading and flowers falling, thinking life has ended, there before the courtyard is a plum branch just blooming. Plum blossoms bloom in late winter and early spring, often seen as a sign of life returning after the cold season. That image says life is not completely destroyed; it only changes form.
Second reading, tied to the Zen spirit: the plum branch before the courtyard is an expression of the unborn and undying. What is seen by ordinary eyes is falling flowers, but what operates behind the falling and blooming is not lost. From the perspective of practice, this is a guide to look through the phenomena of arising and ceasing and see the original nature.
These two readings do not exclude each other. In actual teaching and research, the two are often combined: the verse is both a consolation before death and old age, and a guide to Zen contemplation on impermanence and the unborn.
Where does Cáo tật thị chúng stand in Lý dynasty Buddhist literature?
The Lý period was a time when Buddhism was patronised by the state and had great influence on political and cultural life. Many Zen masters of this period left verses, and some verses were included in school literature curricula as classical literary works. Cáo tật thị chúng belongs to that group.
What is noteworthy is that these verses are usually very short, yet hold many layers of meaning. They were not written to argue philosophy, but to convey an attitude to life and a way of seeing. When reading, therefore, one usually does not need to analyse every word in a philological manner, but needs to place it in the context of the author's practice.
Textually, Cáo tật thị chúng is recorded in Thiền uyển tập anh, a work gathering biographies and verses of Vietnamese Zen masters. Poetic translations such as Ngô Tất Tố's are one way of rendering, not the original text.
Points to note when reading the verse
First, the verse is not a prophecy or advice about personal destiny. It does not say which age meets which fortune, does not speak of compatible or incompatible ages. This is a religious and literary text, and assigning divinatory meanings to it has no basis in the text.
Second, the image of the plum branch should be understood in the cultural context of Vietnam and China, where plum blossoms in late winter are seen as a sign of spring returning. This is a natural observation, not a mystical symbol needing decoding by a fixed system.
Third, the name Cáo tật thị chúng shows the verse is tied to a specific circumstance. When reading, one should picture the author ill and speaking to those around him, not sitting down to write a literary work for posterity.
In summary
Cáo tật thị chúng is a short but weighty verse, because it speaks of what everyone encounters: time passing, old age arriving, things changing. The closing line about the plum branch before the courtyard does not deny impermanence, but opens another way of seeing: within what seems finished there is still what continues. For today's reader, the verse can be read as a reminder of transformation, not as a formula for predicting destiny.
