宏智禪師廣錄 8.87

8.87

Gate after gate opens through to the Chang'an road; / Reaching out a hand to pick it up, it is just right. / One's heel steps onto Zhaozhou's barrier; / The sixteen-foot golden body is a single stalk of grass. / When I first met this person of the way, / All phenomena were completely penetrated, revealing what was in his breast. / Following with staff and sandals, we came to the place of the Way, / Not learning foolish Chan that attends to gating and sweeping. / Green mountains and white clouds, a single pathway through; / Walking, walking along the bird-path, who searches for it? / Master Baofeng is a descendant of Mazu; / Finding each other now, he regrets it was not sooner. / Layman Pang swallowed all the West River; / He called back Old Juzhi who raised his single finger. / The mud ox ploughs with effort the spring of the kalpa of emptiness; / The wooden figure brings forth the treasure of the mountain of form. / Cease stroking the tiger's whiskers and return home; / Let yourself rise and fall amid the thorn thicket. / The midday sun adorns the sky, its light shining brilliantly.