明覺禪師語錄 5.30

5.30

The foundation of name, the stem of reality— / Deep and solid, continuous one after another. / The name of antiquity lay in rare sound; / The reality of today is like floating cataracts. / Men of the ilk of Zizhou and Shanjuan: / Yao drove and Shun hurried, yet had no leisure to yield. / Return, oh return! Returning or not returning? / In the end, one has not stepped outside the dim and dark. / Among our followers, who claims to mark out the rare and peerless? / Movement and stillness rely on you to test and discern. / Leaves fall one by one—half withered in late autumn; / Flowers bloom petal by petal—all blossoming in warm spring. / Old Chan master Xian, Old Chan master Xian! / Your intention was once high and vast, casting aside fishing for praise, / Suddenly encountering praise and blame. / Devas and humans array their invitations, yet you repeatedly laugh lightly; / The position of patriarchs and buddhas is low, and you still intend to flee. / I fear that in fleeing you cannot flee: / The great direction has no outside, everywhere is filled. / Vast and surging, who knows where it ends? / Fragrant breeze on all eight sides brushes your monastic robe.