宏智禪師廣錄 7.67

7.67

The painter has caught his likeness; / His spirit is captured rather well. / Where grass does not sprout hides the fragrant elephant; / From the seamless scabbard roars the green snake. / Spring thunder wakes the hibernating creatures; / Warm pitch-pipes bring forth a thousand flowers. / Surely the people of Pingjiang will laugh: / 'Having just left last year, has he come back again?'