如淨和尚語錄 1.43

1.43

Ascending the hall on the eighth day of the twelfth month: When Gautama lost his eyes, / amid the snow there was only a single branch of plum blossoms. / Now, thorns and briars grow everywhere; / he smiles instead as the spring wind blows in disarray. Everywhere they speak of Chan; Qingliang recites poetry. Can that be sufficient? If indeed it is not, one burns incense, lights candles, and bows to lumps of mud, while behind one's head a hawk flies across the distant sky.