宏智禪師廣錄 6.7

6.7

Patch-robed monks wither their mind's thoughts and put to rest extraneous conditions, single-mindedly polishing this single patch of field until the weeds and overgrowth are completely hoed away. Within its boundaries on all four sides, there is not the slightest taint. Spiritual and bright, vast and translucent, it illuminates right before the substance, thoroughly polished, pure and clean, unable to lodge a single speck of dust. Then turn the ox's nose around: naturally its horns are lofty and distinct. Treading among different species, it never violates others' sprouts and crops. Drifting freely, following conditions; following conditions, drifting freely, there is nowhere to restrain or arrange it. This is precisely the one who plows up the field of the kalpa of emptiness. Coming forth in just this way, it is clearly distinct and unclouded, fully present in every place. A single thought for ten thousand years, it is originally without any abiding characteristic. Therefore it is said: 'The mind-ground contains all seeds; when universal rain falls, all of them sprout. Once enlightened to the sentiment of the blossom, the fruit of bodhi ripens of itself.'