虛堂和尚語錄 3.97

3.97

The Master held up his staff and said: "Right here is the solitary peak of Wonderful Loftiness; why meet on another peak? The wind howls, the water is cold and clear; patch-robed monks cannot blink their eyes. If one speaks of beckoning across the river and rushing crosswise, one has already fallen into his shadow. To speak further of whether questions are answered or not answered tonight—in this sky-covering net, who does not know? Since you know clearly, just as the capital city has twelve gates, from morning till evening carriages and horses crowd together, robes, caps, and cultured regalia pass in and out incessantly—tell me, what matter is each and every one upholding? If you know, our meeting tonight will not have been in vain. If not:" Striking the staff: "Soaring into the sky, the iron pagoda remains forever; deep in the night, who listens to the wind singing in the tiles?"