虛堂和尚語錄 7.242

7.242

相逢道人漆雙瞳，衣衫零落迎秋風，甘將百骸作泥土，
冷笑萬事如展蓬。當今祖道薄如紙，
瓦缶雷鳴鬧人耳，正音却作一線懸，兩手枕胸淚如洗。
行行不惜兩莖眉，魔宮虎穴俱探窺，
山窮橋斷始得路，伎倆盡時方見伊。

Meeting the man of the Way with lacquered pupils,
His clothes in tatters as he faces the autumn wind.
Willing to let his hundred bones turn to mud and earth,
He laughs coldly at the myriad matters, like rolling tumbleweed.
Nowadays the Patriarchal Way is thin as paper;
Earthen jars thunder, grating on people's ears.
The correct sound instead hangs by a single thread;
With both hands propping his chest, his tears flow like a wash.
Walking on and on, he does not spare his two eyebrows,
Prying and peering into both māra palaces and tiger dens.
Only when the mountain ends and bridges break is the road found;
Only when trickery is exhausted does one see him.