31Yunmen's Pillar雲門露柱
Introduction 示眾
向上一機，鶴沖霄漢；當陽一路，鷂過新羅。直饒眼似流星，未免口如匾檐。且道：是何宗旨？
The move from above: a crane shoots into the open sky. The straight road in broad daylight: a hawk streaks past Korea. Even with eyes quick as shooting stars, your mouth still hangs flat as a doorsill. So tell me, what's the point of it?
雲門垂語云：「古佛與露柱相交，是第幾機？」眾無語。自代云：「南山起雲，北山下雨。」
Yunmen put it to the room: "The ancient Buddhas get tangled up with this pillar. What order of working is that?" No one spoke, so he answered himself: "Clouds rise on the south mountain, rain falls on the north."
Verse 頌
一道神光，
初不覆藏。
超見緣也是而無是，
出情量也當而無當。
巖華之粉兮蜂房成蜜，
野草之滋兮麝臍作香。
隨類三尺一丈六，
明明觸處露堂堂。
One stroke of holy light,
never hidden from the start.
Past all seeing: real, yet nothing to call real.
Beyond all reckoning: right, yet nothing to call right.
Pollen on cliff flowers turns to honey in the hive,
sap of wild grass to the musk deer's scent.
Three feet tall or sixteen, it meets each thing as it is,
plain as day, wherever you touch, standing wide open.