如淨和尚語錄 2.39

2.39

Minor convocation on New Year's Eve: "The year is exhausted, the month is exhausted, the day is exhausted, the hour is exhausted."
Drawing a stroke with his whisk, he said: "Utterly stroke it off!"
Holding up the whisk, he said: "This one is inexhaustible!
Do you still see it?
Calling it Qingliang's whisk,
its functioning is inexhaustible.
Tonight, parting with the year together with all of you,
the preaching of the Dharma is inexhaustible.
Therefore, the spring waters filling the four marshes are inexhaustible;
the summer clouds forming many wondrous peaks are inexhaustible;
the autumn moon casting bright radiance is inexhaustible;
the winter ridges showing off solitary pines are inexhaustible.
One year is like this: the past is inexhaustible;
one year is like this: what arrives is inexhaustible.
If you can see it like this,
day by day your eyes move steadily,
hour by hour your nostrils flare high;
as of old, year, month, day, and hour are all inexhaustible.
Although it is so, exhausted and inexhaustible
have nothing whatsoever to do with this whisk.
Just at such a time, if a fellow should suddenly come out before the assembly
and snatch it away to avoid seeing inexhaustible entangling vines,
everyone would rejoice with inexhaustible joy.
If this is not yet so, prostrate yourselves and listen to the ruling."
Striking with the whisk, he said: "Look at the brand-new calendar tomorrow morning;
the Grand Year rides an ox upside down to heaven."
He cited: "A monk asked Xianglin, 'What is the matter beneath the patch-robe?'
Xianglin said, 'In the twelfth month, fire burns the mountain.'"
The Master made a verse:
"The matter beneath the patch-robe is fire burning the mountain;
in the twelfth month, the household is poor and bone-chillingly cold.
How laughable that the continuous flames have never ceased;
the eyebrows are singed red, the facial skin mottled."