汾陽無德禪師語錄 3.18

3.18

Vast and boundless, the divine pearl's body is immense;
spacious and completely empty, without obstruction.
The myriad phenomena crisscross and manifest as reflections within it;
red, white, blue, and yellow are constantly self-at-ease.
A vessel of nature, containing the Dharma realm,
not clinging to the noble, the ordinary, or ancient times.
Its spiritual power illuminates, its substance is flawless;
'this' and 'that', right and wrong, are shattered into a hundred fragments.
Possessing majestic spirit, free of arising and ceasing;
those who are destitute and impoverished must arouse it.
Relieving and providing within the three destinies and six paths,
benefiting living beings, it draws out the moon of heaven and earth.
Whether large or small, people do not distinguish;
hidden or manifest among humans and devas, it is free of waxing and waning.
When used, it is used immediately without deliberation;
to those who gather gravel, it is luminous and pure.
A priceless treasure, a wish-fulfilling jewel;
according with conditions and meeting things, its transformation is not empty.
In spring, warmth arises and completes the true appearance;
at the autumn equinox, the fruit ripens and fills the granaries.
The mind is like space, the intellect is like a mirror;
when defilement is exhausted and even emptiness is empty, there is no mirror either.
Thoroughly clear and transparent, it is simply this single pearl;
fools do not recognize the nature of all buddhas.
Vivid and lively, brilliant and white,
ancient sages and present worthies all play with it in their palms.
In the four quarters and eight directions it manifests spiritual light;
radiantly lofty, it transcends lightness and heaviness.
When good friends obtain it, it relieves hunger and stinginess;
stepping straight beyond Bhīṣmagarjitasvararāja to the presence of the ultimate sage.
Clearly recognize this pure and true thing,
and for long kalpas you will avoid being dragged along by the hordes of Māra.
Real monks of our lineage, cast your eyes high;
a thatch knife will never cut it, though you wait until the year of the donkey.