In this school there is no Chan to explain, no Way to transmit; there is only a sword—whether Buddhas come, or Patriarchs come, or sages come, or ordinary people come, I pick it up and cut them down. Those who know how to flip under the sword blade are free to leave a community and enter a company, and take a poke at the old fellow on the meditation seat. If they see him slobbering, they pack up and leave right away. Isn’t that sharp?
Ying-an, Chan Instructions, Cleary
There is only a sword. It does not pose for a king or shudder before the holy robe.
As the blade swings near, those without blood spill it all on the ground nonetheless.
With tears in my eyes, the man on the high chair appears to glow.
Better not upset him, lest he sends me away.
Who then would tell me how to breathe?
Submitted October 08, 2020 at 03:33PM by Coinionaire https://ift.tt/2SDrBsw
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