圓悟佛果禪師語錄 1.56

1.56

Ascending the hall, a monk asked, "Who is the true host?"
The Master said, "The myriad streams all return to the sea; the thousand mountains must look up to the ancestral peak."
The monk continued, "It becomes a ready-made gong'an."
The Master said, "Under your feet it is black as lacquer."
The monk continued, "It would be best not to deceive the student."
The Master said, "Do you possess the eye of pilgrimage yet?"
The monk said, "What did the Venerable say?"
The Master said, "Fallen into a pit, dropped into a trench."
He then said, "The light of wisdom thoroughly illumines the ten directions; the myriad existences completely return to a single thought. Vastness is not outside; solitude is not inside. The Son of Heaven in the bustling marketplace; the old monk at the tips of the hundred grasses. In each and every thing, the complete body; in every dust mote and every land, the great function. The single phrase that does not fall into one's own views or external conditions—how do you speak it? Where Yu's power did not reach, the sound of the River flowed westward." He stepped down from the seat.