萬松老人評唱天童覺和尚頌古從容庵錄 2.63

2.63

師云。雲門一倒。雪竇一起。仰山指師子。要過此色。三箇鼎足闕一不可。三玄三要盡在於茲。仰山恐人坐在明白裏。豈非慎犯懷仁也。指似於人令過此色。豈非勇為見義也。魯語曰。見義不為無勇也。雲門又恐坐在一色邊也。豈非慎犯懷仁。便與推倒。亦勇為見義也。雪竇恐人只解推倒。乃慎犯懷仁也。更能扶起。勇為見義也。不見。趙州道。老僧不在明白裏。良以清光照眼猶自迷家。明白轉身未免墮位。只解推倒不解扶起。而堪作什麼。本色衲僧如珠走盤。雖同死同生而不居生死。雖無彼無此而權立彼此。末後兩句。有時。太陽門下。有時。明月堂前。萬古長空。一朝風月。朝菌蟪蛄。且道。而今是什麼時節。且隨老木同寒瘠。將逐春風入燒瘢。

The Master said: Yunmen pushes it down; Xuedou helps it up; Yangshan points to the lion, wanting to surpass this color. Like the three legs of a tripod, not one can be missing. The three mysteries and three essentials are completely present here. Yangshan feared people would sit in clarity; is this not "cautious about violation, yet harboring benevolence"? Pointing it out to people to make them surpass this color; is this not "cautious in action, seeing what is right"? The Analects of Lu states: "To see what is right and not do it is a lack of courage." Yunmen also feared people would sit on the side of the single color; is this not "cautious about violation, yet harboring benevolence"? Immediately pushing it over for him is also "cautious in action, seeing what is right." Xuedou feared people would only know how to push it over; this is "cautious about violation, yet harboring benevolence." Being able further to help it up is "cautious in action, seeing what is right." / Have you not seen: Zhaozhou said, "This old monk is not inside clarity." Truly, when pure light shines in the eyes, one still loses one's way home; turning around in clarity, one cannot avoid falling into rank. If you only know how to push it over and do not know how to help it up, what are you good for? A genuine patchrobed monk is like a pearl rolling in a bowl: though dying together and living together, he does not abide in life and death; though there is neither "that" nor "this," he provisionally establishes this and that. / As for the last two lines: sometimes beneath the sun; sometimes before the hall of the bright moon. Boundless space throughout ten thousand kalpas; a morning's wind and moon. Morning mushrooms and summer cicadas—and tell me, what season is it right now? Just follow the old tree in its cold bareness; about to chase the spring breeze into the burnt scars.