宏智禪師廣錄 8.149

8.149

In the cloudy forest, wind and snow at twilight are delicate and fine;
Dripping cold sounds at dawn cease beneath the eaves.
A single mind of begging aligns with staff and sandals;
Fully transformed affairs enter the hammer and tongs.
The cleared light is as if wiped clean; the moon meets no obstruction;
Brocade flowers fall from the loom; spring does not disfavor them.
Hundreds of billions of transformation bodies pervade the dust-like lands;
Seeing and hearing are crisp and free—who clings to another?