諸經要集 2.72

2.72

To hear [the Way] in the morning is truly a joy; / to die in the evening brings no sorrow at all.
Yet vainly looking, one searches the green bamboo slips; / how can this cleanse the mysterious flow?
Sprinkling one's blood is indeed difficult to match; / burning one's body—how could it be easy to seek?
A drifting coolness floats on the layered fluids; / the flying radiance illuminates the deep darkness.
The flock of wild geese initiates approaching celebration; / a single bird transforms earlier cultivation.
At first, one is joyful opening the precious casket; / in the end, one indeed throws the Dharma-boat into confusion.
The eight treasuries are subtle and hard to fathom; / the three asaṃkhyeyas cannot yet be brought to rest.
Unless one chastises the defilements of the mind, / how can one unite with suchness?