佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄 1.31

1.31

Xuedou naturally saw the ancient master; he only needed to give a prick right on his life-pulse and eulogise it for him: "Ox head submerges, horse head turns back." Tell me, what does this say? For those who see through it, it is just like eating gruel in the morning and eating rice at the midday meal—ordinary and nothing more. In his compassion, Xuedou shattered it with a single hammer blow right on the head, cutting it off with a single phrase, yet it remains solitary and steep. Like spark struck from flint, like a flash of lightning, not exposing any sharp tip, leaving you no place to approach. Tell me, can you grope for it in the intellect? These two lines have said it all at once. In the third line, Xuedou instead opened up a thread of a path, slightly revealing some style, which was already falling into the weeds. In the fourth line, he fell into the weeds even more directly. If you produce words upon words, phrases upon phrases, ideas upon ideas, forming interpretations and understandings, you will not only encumber this old monk, but also fail Xuedou. Although the ancients' phrases were like this, their intent was not like this; in the end they did not use doctrines to bind people. "In the mirror of Caoxi, dust and grime are utterly gone." How many people say, "A calm mind is the mirror"? Fortunately, it has no connection! If you merely make calculations and rationalisations, when will there ever be an end? This is talk of the fundamental share; this mountain monk does not dare not rely on the fundamental share. "Ox head submerges, horse head turns back"—Xuedou explained it clearly; it is just that people do not see it themselves. Therefore Xuedou so sloppily praised it, saying: "Behold, the drum is struck, yet you do not see." Do you foolish people still see? Further, he says to you: "For whom do the hundred flowers bloom when spring arrives?" It can be said that he threw open doors and windows, laying it wide open for you all at once. When spring arrives, in secluded valleys and wild ravines, even in places where there are no people, the hundred flowers burst into bloom together. Tell me, for whom else do they bloom?