虛堂和尚語錄 1.97

1.97

An informal gathering on New Year's Eve: "Last year's poverty was not yet poverty: guarding the stump waiting for a rabbit. This year's poverty is truly poverty: mistaking a thief for one's son. Last year poor: not an inch of ground to plant an awl—a mangy dog tied to a withered stump. This year poor: not even an awl—surrendering the stolen goods and signing a confession. Like this, like this: three hundred and sixty days revolving without end. Not like this, not like this: the seventy-two seasonal pentads depart and return again. Those who wash while hugging the bridge pillar never understand in the end. Those who paint a calabash according to the model merely increase their delusions. Even if they tumble right into the boundary between the years, their eyes remain pitch-black. Does Bao'en have an expedient means?" Striking the staff, he said: "Heaven above, what a bitter injustice!"