Precious poems.

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Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 7:40 am

Realisation of Dreams and Mind
by Marpa (Marpa Lotsawa)
(1012 - 1097




Lord Paindapa, you who practice yogic discipline!
Your name has been prophesied by the devas; what a great wonder!
Under the hand of glorious Advayalalita
Are the vajra brothers and sisters whose minds do not differ.
Headed by Sri Gunamati,
Dakas who are sitting in the right hand row, listen to me!
After them, the secret yoginis,
Headed by the consort Sukhavajri,
Dakinis who are sitting in the left hand row, listen to me!
Generally, all Dharmas are illusion.
Dreams are exalted as special illusion.
Early in the night, dreams arise born from habitual patterns.
There is nothing whatsoever to rely on there.
At midnight, the deceptions of Mara appear.
One should not trust in these.
At dawn, there are prophecies by the devas.
How wondrous, how great indeed!
At the break of dawn this morning,
The great lord master appeared
And taught the Dharma which revealed the ultimate.
This is the unforgettable memory of what Maitripa said:
"In general, all Dharmas are mind.
The Guru arises from mind.
The Guru is nothing other than mind.
Everything that appears is the nature of mind.
This mind itself is primordially non-existent.
In the natural state, unborn and innate,
There is nothing to abandon by discursive effort.
Rest at ease, naturally, without restriction.
This can be shown by signs:
A human corpse, an outcast, a dog, a pig,
An infant, a madman, an elephant,
A precious jewel, a blue lotus,
Quicksilver, a deer, a lion,
A Brahman, and a black antelope; did you see them?" Maitripa asked.
The realization of the truth was shown by these signs:
Not fixated on either samsara or Nirvana,
Not holding acceptance or rejection in one's being,
Not hoping for fruition from others,
Mind free from occupation and complexity,
Not falling into the four extremes,
Nonmeditation and nonwandering,
Free from thought and speech,
Beyond any analogy whatsoever.
Through the kindness of the Guru, I realised these.
Since the experience of these realisations has dawned,
Mind and mental events have ceased,
And space and insight are inseparable.
Faults and virtues neither increase nor decrease.
Bliss, emptiness, and luminosity are unceasing.
Therefore, luminosity dawns beyond coming or going.
This transmission of the innate, the pith of the view
Through the sign meanings which reveal the unborn,
I heard from the great lord master.
The reason why I sing these words
Is the insistent request of the honourable lords.
I could not refuse the Dharma brothers and sisters.
Dakinis, do not be jealous!

Thus, this song was sung for the Dharma brothers and sisters headed by Paindapa at the Rinchen Tsul monastery in Nepal to show the meaning of the signs of mahamudra as revealed by Maitripa's appearance in a dream.


Last edited by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 9:33 am; edited 5 times in total

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 7:42 am




Fortunate Birth

In the kingdom of children
Every one of you is this child,
An innocent being
Who jumped out of heaven
And landed in Shambhala.
Fortunate birth is who you are—
Everything is perfect in your world.

Your clothing is the mist of heaven,
Your feet covered by dragon's breath,
You are the most fortunate beings on earth.
You are the children of dharma.
Nothing can close your open heart.
Other children suffer, caught in perpetual dilemma—
Because Buddha has touched you,
You are fortunate.

Be dharmic now,
Be powerful now,
Be benevolent now—
Not for me, not for others—
But because that is your blood.
When you feel privileged, use it.
When you feel ashamed, pounce.
Consume that hesitation—
It's only a flicker of your imagination.

You are the blessed people on this earth.
Every atom of your being is Buddha—
What's left is joy.
You have no excuse;
Don't sulk.
You can be sad, for sadness is
the most genuine expression.
Expression of goodness is who you are.
Being a child of dharma is dilemma.
Being a child of dharma is freedom.

Consume this hesitation of not knowing.
Never doubt,
Only walk forward.
Love everything,
For that is why you are here.




To My Father, to the Vajra Sangha


The body is young, but moss grows all around.
The inside has become brittle and open to fire.
The arms look full, but the milk has gone.
The veins are thick, full of rivers of doubt.
Fear holds the back.
The legs are quick, full of intent and desire,
But are heavy with the long week's work.
The feet are wide and strong.
The arches tall, the toes firm,
But are lost in the fog of doubt.

Let us join in the mind of the guru.
Let us fill our lungs with songs of devotion
And rid the dragon of victory.
Let us eat the sun of discipline
And drink the dharma of generosity.
All I wish is to see you smile.
All I want is to share a meal of butter and highland meat.
Let us rejoice in the vision of Shambhala.
Let us rejoice for you who are craziness itself.
When I walk, I think only of you.
When I sleep, I only become sad because you are ther.
Let me not fail you.
Let me be of you.
Let us enjoy
In the mountain of Magyel Pomra
The feast of the Great Eastern Sun.



Snow Fell Twice, The Sun Always Shone

Incorrigible state of bewilderment,
You make retreat life possible.
Desolate green grass, rolling far beyond;
Spring can see the clarity of dew-dropping morning cherries.
Achiness that comes from the fourth session
Leaves me humbled and inspired.
Opening the front door,
A gust of wind, round and billowing
Cold at the edges, warm and forceful at the center
Comes gushing in‹
Happiness pervades my entire body.
My joints feel achy‹
Slouch and sit straight up.
The shrine is messy, haphazard
Ordered and neat beyond my understanding
Simplified to a level of doubt.
Lighting the first candle,
I smell the sulfur of apprehension.
The delight of spark and flame‹
My end of the world becomes illuminated:
So simple, so mine, so obvious.
Basking in a moment of loneliness,
I watch the bright light of sun
Slide and mesmerize.
Early morning view:
A spider has crawled into the sink.
Plastic flaps, cold air seeps in‹
Karma is caused by a moment of agitation.
In the distance I hear the labored activity
Of a small bird making its home in a tree.
Gentle breezes sway the green grass
And common song is sung.
Meditating on a rock has made me soft;
Smelling wildflowers has hardened my understanding.
Delight in a small crease where rice has fallen
Delight in a space‹
Time has become smooth and sweet.
Rise, drink bitter tea
Light a piece of broken incense‹
Life is full of retreat.




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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 7:55 am


The View, Concisely Put


by Naropa
(1016 - 1100)
Khenchen Thrangu Rinpoche and Erik Pema Kunsang





This mind that knows emptiness
Is itself the awakened mind, bodhicitta.
The Buddha potential is just this.
The sugata essence is just this.

Because of tasting what is,
It is also the great bliss.
The understanding of secret mantra is just this.
Means and knowledge is just this.

This self-knowing, while one is still defiled,
Does not depend on other things,
So self-existing wakefulness is just this.
Being aware, it is cognizance.

A natural knowing that is free of thought.
This self-knowing cannot possibly form thoughts.
Without conceptualizing 'a mind,'
Since it is not something to be conceived,
This original wakefulness, cognizant yet thought-free,
Is like the wisdom of the Tathagata.

Therefore, it is taught, "Realize that luminous mind
Is the mind of original wakefulness,
And don't seek an enlightenment separate from that."

[/td][/tr][/table]

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:00 am



The Summary of Mahamudra


by Naropa
(1016 - 1100) Timeline


English version by
Khenchen Thrangu Rinpoche and Erik Pema Kunsang




Buddhist : Tibetan
11th Century

Homage to the state of great bliss!
Concerning what is called Mahamudra
All things are your own mind.
Seeing objects as external is a mistaken concept;
Like a dream, they are empty of concreteness.
This mind, as well, is a mere movement of attention
That has no self-nature, being merely a gust of wind.
Empty of identity, like space.
All things, like space, are equal.
When speaking of 'Mahamudra'
It is not an entity that can be shown.
There the mind's suchness
Is itself the state of Mahamudra.
It is neither something to be corrected nor transformed,
But when anyone sees and realizes its nature
All that appears and exists is Mahamudra,
The great all-encompassing Dharmakaya.
Naturally and without contriving, allowed simply to be,
This unimagined Dharmakaya,
Letting it be without seeking is the meditation training.
But to meditate while seeking is deluded mind.
Just as with space and a magical display,
While neither cultivating nor not cultivating
How can you be separate and not separate!
This is a yogi's understanding.
All good deeds and harmful actions
Dissolve by simply knowing this nature.
The emotions are the great wisdom.
Like a jungle fire, they are the yogi's helpers.
How can there be staying or going?
What meditation is there by fleeing to a hermitage?
Without understanding this, all possible means
Never bring more than temporary liberation.
When understanding this nature, what is there to bind you?
While being undistracted from its continuity,
There is neither a composed nor an uncomposed state
To be cultivated or corrected with a remedy.
It is not made out of anything
Experience self-liberated is dharmadhatu.
Thinking self-liberated is great wisdom,
Non-dual equality is dharmakaya.
Like the continuous flow of a great river,
Whatever you do is meaningful,
This is the eternal awakened state,
The great bliss, leaving no place for samasara.
All things are empty of their own identities.
This concept fixed on emptiness has dissolved in itself.
Free of concept, holding nothing in mind,
Is in itself the path of the Buddhas.
For the most fortunate ones,
I have made these concise words of heartfelt advice.
Through this, may every single sentient being
Be established in Mahamudra.


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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:01 am


An Adamantine Song on the Ever-Present


by Longchen Rabjampa
(1308 - 1363) Timeline


English version by
Thubten Jinpa and Jas Elsner

Original Language
Tibetan



Buddhist : Tibetan
14th Century

To experience the ocean of essence,
resembling the sphere of unchanging space:
free of center and perimeter,
pervading the expanse.
Enlightened mind transcends cognitions!

Rootless and baseless are appearance
and void, in the self-arisen rikpa
of every perception.
Vivid is the sense of noncessation:
luminous, the absence of object perception.

Within the voidness free of class distinction
all appearances dissolve, for their ground is lost;
The rikpa of liberation is spread evenly.
Subject and object are both void,
for their roots are lost.

The essence of self-arisen wisdom
and all duality are cleansed like the sky;
subjects and objects arise as free from bounds,
as naked dharmakaya!
This is the Great Perfection, free of cognition!

The self-arisen ground primordially pure,
the ultraversed path supremely swift,
the unsought fruit spontaneously savored,
such is the Great Perfection,
in the radiant dharmakaya.

This primordial sphere of pervasive essence
is the Great Perfection of samsara
and nirvana; this song of transcending --
beyond cause and effect, beyond all endeaver,
was sung by Longchen Rabjam Zangpo.


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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:03 am

by Tilopa
(988 - 1069) Timeline


English version by
Lex Hixon




Buddhist : Tibetan
11th Century

Mahamudra, the royal way, is free
from every word and sacred symbol.
For you alone, beloved Naropa,
this wonderful song springs forth from Tilopa
as spontaneous friendship that never ends.
The completely open nature
of all dimensions and events
is a rainbow always occurring
yet never grasped.
The way of Mahamudra
creates no closure.
No strenuous mental effort
can encounter this wide open way.
The effortless freedom of awareness
moves naturally along it.
As space is always freshly appearing
and never filled,
so the mind is without limits
and ever aware.
Gazing with sheer awareness
into sheer awareness,
habitual, abstract structures melt
into the fruitful springtime of Buddhahood.
White clouds that drift through blue sky,
changing shape constantly,
have no root, no foundation, no dwelling;
nor do changing patterns of thought
that float through the sky of mind.
When the formless expanse of awareness
comes clearly into view,
obsession with thought forms
ceases easily and naturally.
As within the openness of universal space
shapes and colors are spontaneously forming,
although space has no color or form,
so within the expanse of awareness
realms, relations and values are arising,
although awareness possesses
no positive or negative characteristics.
As the darkness of night,
even were it to last a thousand years,
could not conceal the rising sun,
so countless ages of conflict and suffering
cannot conceal the innate radiance of Mind.
Although philosophers explain
the transparent openness of appearances
as empty of permanent characteristics
and completely indeterminable,
this universal indeterminacy
can itself never be determined.
Although sages report
the nature of awareness to be luminosity,
this limitless radiance cannot be contained
within any language or sacramental system.
Although the very essence of Mind
is to be void of either subjects or objects,
it tenderly embraces all life within its womb.
To realize this inexpressible truth,
do not manipulate mind or body
but simply open into transparency
with relaxed, natural grace
intellect at ease in silence,
limbs at rest in stillness
like hollow bamboos.
Neither breathing in nor breathing out
with the breath of habitual thinking,
allow the mind to be at peace
in brilliant wakefulness.
This is the royal wealth of Mahamudra,
no common coin of any realm.
Beloved Naropa, this treasure of Buddhahood
belongs to you and to all beings.
Obsessive use of meditative disciplines
or perennial study of scripture and philosophy
will never bring forth this wonderful realization,
this truth which is natural to awareness,
because the mind that desperately desires
to reach another realm or level of experience
inadvertently ignores the basic light
that constitutes all experience.
The one who fabricates
any division in consciousness
betrays the friendship of Mahamudra.
Cease all activity that separates,
abandon even the desire to be free from desires
and allow the thinking process to rise and fall
smoothly as waves on a shoreless ocean.
The one who never dwells in abstraction
and whose only principle
is never to divide or separate
upholds the trust of Mahamudra.
The one who abandons craving
for authority and definition,
and never becomes one-sided
in argument or understanding,
alone perceives the authentic meaning
hidden in the ancient scriptures.
In the blissful embrace of Mahamudra,
negative viewpoints and their instincts
are burned without remainder, like camphor.
Through the open door of Mahamudra,
the deluded state of self-imprisonment
is easily left behind forever.
Mahamudra is the torch of supreme liberty
shining forth through all conscious beings.
Those beings constituted by awareness
who try to ignore, reject or grasp awareness
inflict sorrow and confusion upon themselves
like those who are insane.
To be awakened from this madness,
cultivate the gracious friendship
of a sublime sage of Mahamudra,
who may appear to the world as mad.
When the limited mind
enters blessed companionship
with limitless Mind,
indescribable freedom dawns.
Selfish or limited motivations
create the illusory sense of imprisonment
and scatter seeds of further delusion.
Even genuine religious teaching
can generate narrowness of vision.
Trust only the approach
that is utterly vast and profound.
The noble way of Mahamudra
never engages in the drama of
imprisonment and release.
The sage of Mahamudra
has absolutely no distractions,
because no war against distractions has ever been declared.
This nobility and gentleness alone,
this nonviolence of thought and action ,
is the traceless path of all Buddhas.
To walk this all-embracing way
is the bliss of Buddhahood.
Phenomena on every plane of being
are constantly arising and disappearing.
Thus they are forever fresh,
always new and inexhaustible.
Like dreams without solid substance,
they can never become rigid or binding.
The universe exists in a deep, elusive way
that can never be grasped or frozen.
Why feel obsessive desire or hatred for it,
thereby creating illusory bonds?
Renounce arbitrary, habitual views.
Go forth courageously to meditate
in the real mountain wilderness,
the wide open Mahamudra.
Transcend boundaries of kinship
by embracing all living beings
as one family of consciousness.
Remain without any compulsion
in the landscape of natural freedom:
spontaneous, generous, joyful.
When you receive the crown of Mahamudra,
all sense of rank or attainment
will quietly disappear.
Cut the root of the vine that chokes the tree,
and its clinging tendrils wither away entirely.
Sever the conventionally grasping mind,
and all bondage and desperation dissolve.

The illumination from an oil lamp
lights the room instantly,
even if it has been dark for aeons.
Mind is boundless radiance.
How can the slightest darkness
remain in the room of daily perception?
But one who clings to mental processes
cannot awaken to the radiance of Mind.
Strenuously seeking truth
by investigation and concentration,
one will never appreciate
the unthinkable simplicity and bliss
that abide at the core.
To uncover this fertile ground,
cut through the roots of complexity
with the sharp gaze of naked awareness,
remaining entirely at peace,
transparent and content.
You need not expend great effort
nor store up extensive spirtual power.
Remain in the flow of sheer awareness.
Mahamudra neither accepts nor rejects
any current of energy, internal or external.
Since the ground consciousness
is never born into any realm of being,
nothing can add to or subtract from it.
Nothing can obstruct or stain it.
When awareness rests here,
the appearance of division and conflict
disappears into original reality.
The twin emotions of anxiety and arrogance
vanish into the void from which they came.
Supreme knowing knows
no separate subject or object.
Supreme action acts resourcefully
without any array of instruments.
Supreme attainment attains the goal
without past, future or present.
The dedicated practitioner
experiences the spiritual way
as a turbulent mountain stream,
tumbling dangerously among boulders.
When maturity is reached,
the river flows smoothly and patiently
with the powerful sweep of the Ganges.
Emptying into the ocean of Mahamudra,
the water becomes ever-expanding light
that pours into great Clear Light
without direction, destination,
division, distinction or description.

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:05 am

Yeshe Tsogyel

The Supreme Being is the Dakini Queen of the Lake of Awareness!
The Supreme Being is the Dakini Queen of the Lake of Awareness!
I have vanished into fields of lotus-light, the plenum of dynamic space,
To be born in the inner sanctum of an immaculate lotus;
Do not despair, have faith!
When you have withdrawn attachment to this rocky defile,
This barbaric Tibet, full of war and strife,
Abandon unnecessary activity and rely on solitude.
Practice energy control, purify your psychic nerves and seed-essence,
And cultivate mahamudra and Dsokchen.

The Supreme Being is the Dakini Queen of the Lake of Awareness!
Attaining humility, through Guru Pema Jungne's compassion I followed him,
And now I have finally gone into his presence;
Do not despair, but pray!
When you see your karmic body as vulnerable as a bubble,
Realising the truth of impermanence, and that in death you are helpless,
Disabuse yourself of fantasies of eternity,
Make your life a practice of sadhana,
And cultivate the experience that takes you to the place where Ati ends.


Last edited by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:13 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:11 am

Yeshe Tsogyel 8 th century.

Now until the dualistic identity mind melts and dissolves,
it may seem that we are parting.
Please be happy.
When you understand the dualistic mind,
there will be no separation from me.
May my good wishes fill the sky. :hands:


Last edited by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:21 am; edited 1 time in total

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 8:17 am

http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/Traditions/Tibetan.htm

For more and books about. May all see the jewel by wisdom and spontaneous compassion. 🌈 :heartani:

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Thu May 07, 2009 12:32 pm

His Holiness The Sixt Dalai Lama. :buddha1:




White crane!
Lend me your wings
I will not fly far
From Lithang, I shall return" Lithang ko ney leb yong!




Never have I slept without a sweetheart
Nor have I spent a single drop of sperm"


. . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Over the eastern hills rises
The smiling face of the moon;
In my mind forms
The smiling face of my beloved’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Yesterday’s young sprouting shoots
Are withered straws today,
Like the ageing body of a youth
Stiff bent as a southern bow’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’If only I could wed
The one whom I love,
Joys of gaining the choicest gem
From the ocean’s deepest bed would be mine’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’She smells sweet of body
My sweetheart, the highway queen;
Like the worthless white turquoise
She was found, to be thrown away’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Longing for the landlord’s daughter
Blossoming in youthful beauty
Is like pining for peaches
Ripening on the high peach trees’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Sleepless I am
Because I am in love;
Fatigue and frustration overwhelm
When day brings not my beloved to me’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Spring flowers fade in the fall;
It is not for the turquoise bees to mourn.
I and my sweetheart are fated to part;
It is not for us to cry’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Frost gathers on the glistering flowers
And then the cold north wind blows.
The frost and the wind must have come
To drive the bees away from the flowers’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’I have hoisted prayer-flags
For the good luck of my beloved.
Forest keeper, Ajo Shelngo,
Do not trample her good luck flags’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’I incline myself
To the teachings of my lama
But my heart secretly escapes

To the thoughts of my sweetheart’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Even if meditated upon,
The face of my lama comes not to me,
But again and again comes to me
The smiling face of my beloved’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’If I could meditate upon the dharma
As intensely as I muse on my beloved
I would certainly attain enlightenment
Surely, in this one lifetime’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’When my luck was good
I hoisted auspicious prayer-flags
And the young lady of noble birth
Hosted me at her home’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Your sweet smile is
To steal away my young heart.
If your love for me is true,
Promise me so
From the depths of your heart’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’When the gem was mine
I cared not, and ignored its value.
Now that the gem is lost to others,
Melancholy overwhelms me
As its pure worth dawns on me’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’My sweetheart who truly loved me
Has been stolen to wed another.
I am sick with longing sorrow
And frustration emaciates my frail body’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’In my dreams often
I see my lost beloved;
A soothsayer I must seek
To search for her soon for me’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’If the maiden will live forever
The wine will flow evermore.
The tavern is my haven;
With wine I am content’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’My beloved from childhood
Seems to be of the wolf’s race;
Even after many nights together
She tries to escape,
Like the wolves, to the hills’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’To the wings of this eagle
The wind and the rocks have been cruel.
The sly and scheming ones
Have harassed me, always without ceasing’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Pink clouds
Hide frosts and hailstorms;
He who is a half-monk

Is a hidden enemy of the dharma

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’The moon tonight seems
To be the full moon,
But the hare* inside the moon
Does not seem to be alive"

* Refers to a Tibetan belief that a giant hare resides in the moon
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Like the rising moon of the third day
My beloved is dressed is pure and white,
But on the full moon of the fifteenth day
Take an oath of meeting as pure and bright’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’Even the stars in the sky
Can be measured by astrology.
Her body can be caressed,
But not so fathomed
Her deep inner longing’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

’Sweetheart awaiting me in my bed
Yielding tenderly her sweet soft body,
Has she come to cheat me
And disrobe me of my virtues?’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

’Peacocks from eastern India,
Parrot from the depths of Kongpo,
Though born in separate countries
Finally come together
In the holy land of Lhasa’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’People gossip about me.
I am sorry for what I have done;
I have taken three thin steps
And landed myself in the tavern of my mistress’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .
’In the short walk of this life
We have had our share of joy.
Let us hope to meet again
In the youth of our next life’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

’The garrulous parrot
Please stay with your mouth shut.
The thrush in the willow grove
Has promised to sing a song for me’

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

’Yama,
the mirror of my karma
Residing in the realm of death,
You must judge and grant justice.
Here, while alive, I had no justice"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYqvJj32Yrg&feature=related

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93rjhGKH5T0&feature=related

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by LauraJ on Fri May 08, 2009 12:55 am

Lovely! Bow

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Fri May 08, 2009 6:22 am

By Yidam Tsering


In the sun’s holy hands, that the magic silver comb,
is the pure snow land in my world,
when you realize the ocean like blue sky within the calmness ,
To imagine she may devote to Rivers of melody under the sky,

To congeal ice and snow are all sentient life and love!

Therefore ,it's tide and wave join the moon and sun’s light,
Not let the dust fall on my pure land ! _/\_

🌈

muni

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by muni on Fri May 08, 2009 6:45 am

Painting in luminious expression
abiding in unconditioned love
No fear can hold its pinching fist
in boundless radiance.

The constructions of my creative mind
illuminate in concepts' phantasy
Abiding in magical experiences
labels in blending brushstrokes.


I love poetry as well, because it is showing us to see behind words. Bow

muni

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Re: Precious poems.

Post by LauraJ on Fri May 08, 2009 4:29 pm

"When All Thoughts"

When all thoughts
Are exhausted
I slip into the woods
And gather
A pile of shepherd's purse.

Like the little stream
Making its way
Through the mossy crevices
I, too, quietly
Turn clear and transparent.

Ryokan (1758 - 1831)

LauraJ

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Re: Precious poems.

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