佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄 6.23

6.23

Hares and horses have horns; (斩—Exceedingly extraordinary! Exceedingly fresh!)
Oxen and sheep have no horns. (斩—What form does this take? Deceiving others might work.)
Not a single strand of hair, not a single hair-tip; (Above heaven and below heaven, I alone am the honored one. Where can you grope for it?)
Like mountains, like peaks. (Where is it? Raising waves on level ground. It pokes right into your nostrils!)
The golden holy relics are still present now; (Cutting off the tongue! Stuffing up the throat! Setting it aside, one only fears no one recognizes him.)
White waves surging to the heavens—where can they be placed? (Letting him pass this once. Blundered past right under his heels! It cannot be accommodated in the eyes or the ears.)
Nowhere to place them! (Indeed. It gets a little bit closer; indeed drowning in a deep pit.)
Returning to the West with a single sandal, it was once lost. (The ancestor was not finished with it, implicating his descendants. Striking, he says: Why is it right here?)