Poezie: Trungpa

Van Zen koans tot de liederen van Milarepa, het boeddhisme lijkt doordrenkt te zijn in poëzie. Verschillende grote meditatiemeesters hebben hun wijsheid en dichtvorm uit weten te drukken. Naar alle waarschijnlijkheid zullen we nooit begrijpen wat ze precies bedoeld hebben maar dat neemt niet weg dat we niet kunnen genieten van een gezonde dosis verlichtte poëzie.

A cripple runs on the primordial plain.
A mute proclaims the dharma of prajna.
A deaf man listens to the command of mahayana.
At that time, mahamudra arises.
Saraha bursts out laughing.
The only father guru is very pleased.

Chögyam is drunk with the liquor of one taste.
At that time, a ganachakra occurs.
At that time, Marpa Lotsawa laughs.
From the suchness of the fourth abhisheka,
The transcendent world manifests.

No dharma, no source of dharma,
No existence, no manifestation of existence,
The dakini who devours the three worlds,
I pay homage to you who dry up the ocean.

Because I have no father or mother,
I always dwell alone.
Because I have no friends,
I am always surrounded by mirage friends.
These friends are like a treacherous pathway.
These parents are like poisonous food.
I am without friends or parents.
Always joyful, cultivating disciples,
I take delight in cultivating the dharma kingdom.
Getting old, still I grow younger.

Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche
1979 by the Nālandā Translation Committee


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