The next poem Lao Zhou read to him was from the Zen master Fayan:
老周读给他听的下一首诗来自法演禅师：
"In front of the mountain, an idle field. I asked my grandfather about it. I sold it and bought it back again, just to let the pines and bamboos welcome the breeze."
"山前一片闲田地，叉手叮咛问祖翁。几度卖来还自买，为怜松竹引清风。"
Mingxin frowned. "What does it mean?"
明心皱着眉。"什么意思？"
"What do you think it means?"
"你觉得什么意思？"
"I don't know. Something about buying and selling land?"
"不知道。关于买卖地？"
Lao Zhou laughed. "The land isn't land. It's your self-nature. You've been selling it and buying it back your whole life. You chase after things, you get them, you lose them, you chase after something else. But the field was always there. You didn't need to buy it. You just needed to recognize that you already owned it."
老周笑了。"那块地不是地。是你的自性。你一辈子都在卖它又买回来。你追逐东西，得到了，失去了，又追别的。但那块地一直都在。你不需要买。你只需要认出你已经拥有它。"
Mingxin stared at the tea in his cup. The tea leaves were settled at the bottom. They had been there all along. He had just been looking at the surface.
明心盯着杯里的茶。茶叶沉在杯底。它们一直都在。他只是看着表面。
"Is that what Buddhism is?" he asked.
"佛教就是这个？"他问。
Lao Zhou shook his head. "Buddhism isn't anything. It's not a thing you get. It's a thing you notice. You've been carrying your own self-nature around with you your whole life, and you've been looking for it everywhere else."
老周摇了摇头。"佛教不是什么。它不是你能得到的东西。是你能注意到的东西。你一辈子都带着自己的自性，你却一直在别处找它。"
