圓悟佛果禪師語錄 2.14

2.14

Ascending the hall, a monk asked, "When a single rain universally moistens, is there still the Buddhadharma or not?" The Master said, "Entirely receiving its power." The monk continued, "Then above the head is vast and boundless, and beneath the feet is vast and boundless." The Master said, "You must also be bone-dry before you get it." The monk said, "The entire earth is all teaching; how does the practitioner enter?" The Master said, "Submerged together with the head." The monk said, "In that case, a two-tiered encounter." The Master said, "Completely irrelevant." The Master then said, "The ox's head sinks and the horse's head turns—the thousand sages do not know; the front three-three and the back three-three—the river sands cannot reckon. In low places leveling it leaves a surplus; in high places viewing it is never enough. In the eastern continent of Pūrvavideha a horse gallops; in the southern continent of Jambudvīpa someone tumbles. The fan leaps up to heaven; the carp of the Eastern Sea is enraged. It reaches where the rain pours down like from basins, and the great trichiliocosm is entirely flooded. And tell me: is the ox's head sinking and the horse's head turning? Is it the front three-three and the back three-three? The ocean god knows its preciousness but not its price; / Leaving it to the human world, its light shines through the night." He stepped down from the seat.