佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄 6.13

6.13

"Wild ducks— (Forming flocks and bands, and yet another one.) / where do they know to go? (What is the use of them? Like hemp, like millet.) / Mazu saw them coming and spoke with him, (Entangling vines—when will they ever end? What are they saying? Only Mazu recognizes an outstanding one.)
exhausting completely the sentiments of mountain clouds and ocean moon. (The eastern house's ladle handle is long; the western house's ladle handle is short. Who knows how many entangling vines he has made?)
As before, not understanding, they still fly away: (Aha! Do not say he does not understand words. Flown past where?)
about to fly away, (The nostrils are in someone else's hands. Already a footnote has been added for him.)
he pulls him back: (His grandmotherly heart is earnest. What more does he say?)
'Speak! Speak!'" (What "speak"? You cannot make this mountain monk speak, nor can you make the cry of a wild duck. Blue heaven, blue heaven! Under his heels, give him thirty blows of the staff. I do not know where he went.)