宏智禪師廣錄 9.88

9.88

Look, look at the transformations on the tip of a hair! / The spring breeze does not melt the snow upon the crown; / autumn colors naturally polish the chill of the pupils. / Laughing widens the face, stretching both brows; / having partaken his fill, his belly is three hoops wide. / Sitting on the bent-wood seat, / holding the black rattan staff, / he casts the mold of buddhas and ancestors / and brings to life the atmosphere of the monastic grove. / Do not come pulling whiskers from the tiger's mouth; / who would dare scratch an itch upon a snake's head?