佛果圜悟禪師碧巖錄 8.17

8.17

Within the shadows of white clouds, laughing with a great guffaw; / (In his laugh there is a knife. What are you raving feverishly about? The patch-robed monks of the world do not know where it lands.)
Holding it with both hands, he brings it and hands it over to them. / (How could there be such a thing? You had better not slander Jinniu. Can you call it a rice bucket? If he were a genuine patch-robed monk, he would not eat this kind of tea and rice.)
If he is a child of the golden-haired lion, / (He must be beyond the pattern before he gets it. I grant that he has eyes; I only fear his eyes are not true.)
From three thousand leagues away he sees the discrepancy. / (Not worth half a coin. A total leakage. Where is the discrepancy? Blind fellow!)