無競齋質湖隱
非俗非僧。非凡非僊。打開荊棘林。透過金剛圈。眉毛廝結。鼻孔撩天。燒了護身符。落紙如雲烟。有時結茅晏坐荒山巔。有時長安市上酒家眠。氣吞九州。囊無一錢。時節到來。奄如蛻蟬。湧出舍利。八萬四千。讚嘆不盡。而說偈言。嗚呼此其所以為濟顛者耶。
Neither worldly nor monastic, neither ordinary nor immortal. He opened the thorny forest, passed through the diamond circle. Eyebrows tangled, nostrils flared to the sky. He burned the protective talisman, ink flowing like clouds and mist. Sometimes he built a thatched hut and sat in silent meditation atop a desolate mountain peak; sometimes he slept in a tavern in the bustling capital. His spirit could swallow the nine provinces, yet his pouch held not a single coin. When the time arrived, he vanished like a cicada shedding its shell. From him emerged 84,000 relics. Endless praise could not suffice, so a verse was spoken: Alas, is this not the very essence of Crazy Ji?