Poetry

Chatty Lord Hornbill ... kruk ... krik ...
pecking my back as if to scratch it.

All the times you threw my sandals around
playing, dragging, shoving them about like a tractor.

Now you've died, gone and left us
after landing on a high power transformer.

One foot burnt to a crisp, your last breath
no peacock's screech could compare.

The hearts of everyone who knew you
skipped a beat when they got the news.

No matter how or where, whoever dies
having lived virtuously can't really sadden anyone.

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I offer this life and body to the Buddha,

the Buddha is my master,

I am the Buddha's servant.

Thus, I am called “Buddhadasa.”

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Blind & silly when finding joy
Don't be fooled into suffering about it,
Though happy it's poisoned with impermanence,
See the dukkha-ness in each kind of joy.

While everything is poisoned by impermanence,
We go mad, like falling in love with a ghoul,
They delude & confuse most disgustingly:
This dukkha-ness means “revolting.”

Both “sukha” and “dukkha” are despicable,
The thickest prisons entrapping the heart,
Tricked by them like a fish by tasty bait,
Despite having eyes, still caught on the hook.

Seeing only the joy, not the dukkha within,
Like a fish crazy about lasting stability,
So used to its tricks they seem real
Until mind lets go seeing dukkha in sukha.

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It's always been that fish never see the water
Flowing over their eyeballs day & night.

However you try there's no way to make
A fish see water — O, you Fish!

Human fish pass through the world the same way.
Has there ever been one who saw

The world clearly just as it is, without 
getting caught in the world's tricky net?

The word “see” is taken in many ways;
Fools claim to see even a single hair.

Why don't they see this disease infested world?
If you wonder, ponder well, these fishy matters.

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“Work with me, carry on with me, that’s what remains
together as partners, until sky and earth dissolve.
Work with me, carry on with me, that doesn’t die,
while all of you together without end.”

How are we to act that this will be so?
Well, enter into the gist of what He taught —
the undying, reachable every step and stage
as all that’s deathly is discarded, truly that’s it.

Any concoction or creation in this world:
don’t delight or cling to partner Him.
Mind empty and free of Ego-I, doesn’t fool
when no longer seeing anything as dying.

(*) nirandara, though commonly understood as “eternal,” more literally “without end,” which fits somewhat better with classic Buddha-Dhamma.

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If we say, “the more progress, the more insane,”  
It looks rather hard that we'll find any takers, 
Because everyone likes progress that exceeds reality — 
Progress like a spirit possession is even better!

The world progresses beyond its means and Nature breaks up
Many strange things changing the world sorrowfully,
Making humans into an extraordinary species
Caught up in killing both above and below the ground.

The more progress, the more it boils and bathes in blood;
The smarter, the more sinful, far worse than the stone age;
Creating tortuous problems proliferating endlessly,
The whole world clings to craziness as progress. 

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If we compare ourselves with chickens we'll see, 
They don't have headaches, insomnia, or ulcers. 
They're free of nervous tension and mental disorders. 
Chickens don't go crazy like we do every day. 

The world's people take drugs by the ton, 
While the chickens don't take even a speck. 
They sleep tight, minds at ease one-hundred per cent. 
Don't you feel a little embarrassed by the chickens?

Human birth gives us the right to be neurotic: 
Should we count this as a blessing or a curse? 
Please find some Dhamma before it's too late, 
To live happily, no longer shamed by the chickens. 

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Look well, there's only profit and never loss.
When losing a child or a spouse, one still receives 
life's genuine knowledge that depends on no-one 
how everything proceeds according to its evil and good.

This kind of knowledge brightens the heart, 
seeing the way to Nibbana, the only true support. 
Plunging forward to reach the goal of our lives, 
don't get all bothered and make yourself suffer!

One ought to know only profit and never loss,
but end up losing because of misguided thinking. 
Ponder carefully, there's only gain and no anxiety, 
being “Truly Buddhist” at the pinnacle of Dhamma.

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Life is what struggles eternally
For the undying realm of happiness 
Yet now, still needs some support 
Namely, food, fight, and procreation.

Falling for the charms of food, fun, & fame, 
Subjects human beings to all kinds of stress. 
Their superiority to animals is most miraculous
In how much more enslaved by sensual fluff.

Having achieved this level of life we carry on
Passing beyond minor and major defilements 
Till reaching life's timeless-complete end, 
In harmony with “God” — entering Nibbana.

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That work gives humanity its true value 
and is of the highest honor there's no doubt. 
If one enjoys work with a blossoming heart, 
soon knowledge of Dhamma deeply pervades.

Because work is the very essence of Dhammic living, 
superbly bringing together wholesome virtues, 
By analogy, compare the intelligent sharpshooter
who with a single shot bags a sack full of birds.

Naturally, work is to be done mindfully, 
with calm focus, patience, and industry, 
with honesty, self-control, and intelligence, 
with faith and courage, truly love your work.

The more one works, the more these dhammas flourish
promoting the transcendent shore without pause; 
seeing the universal characteristics in everything, 
in a flash plunging into vimutti^* and freeing itself.

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(*) Vimutti = liberation, release

Sometimes I have a chat with “God,”
Who looks after this trembling world
With so much tolerance, kindness, and care, 
Yet the world’s beings still tremble and quake.

The world is stinking drunk on materialism,
Heartbroken with pains worse than violent death.
“Living dead” hour to hour as if life is a joke 
Is worse than dying just once into the coffin.

Whatever they attempt, they still miss seeing the path,
Too terrified of giving up and abandoning everything.
It will happen only when Dhamma returns just in time
And the world turns towards the joy of Sri Araya’s Age.*

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(*) Sri Araya Mettaya is popularly believed to be the next Buddha, who will usher in an era of peace and universal kindness.

The world today is encyclopedically foolish, 
because of texts heaped upon us to death's door, 
all these books, papers, journals, and the rest 
as we outdo each other in overflowing the libraries. 

With scriptures flooding their heads till they waddle, 
knowledge flooding their hearts most pitifully, 
weary scholars washed out by their studies, 
a world staggering without the light of Dhamma. 

The more learning the more stupid, it's hard to believe, 
but the simple matter is ridiculously thus, 
learning only what pulls the mind into more karma, 
fondling sensuality, raving mad about status & fame. 

Lots of play, eating too much, excessive money, 
babbling speech, indulgent veterans in obscenity, 
whoever upsets is joyfully cursed all day long — 
yet they think this gravely malignant ignorance is good.

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