宏智禪師廣錄 2.98

2.98

收把斷襟喉。風磨雲拭。水冷天秋。錦鱗莫謂無滋味。
釣盡滄浪月一鉤。

Gathering and taking hold of the lapel, cutting off the throat; / The wind polishes, the clouds wipe clean. / The water is cold, the sky is autumn. / Do not say the brocade-scaled fish has no flavour— / Having fished the blue waves completely, there is only a hook of the moon.