Rechungpa, after returning from India, had contracted the disease of pride and in various ways Milarepa tried to cure him. As his disciple required food, they went for alms but were abused by an old woman who declared that she had no food. The next morning they found her dead and Milarepa said: “Rechungpa, like this woman, every sentient being is destined to die, but seldom do people think of this fact. So they lose many opportunities to practise the Dharma. Both you and I should remember this incident and learn a lesson from it.” Whereupon, he sang… The Song of Transiency and Delusion When the transience of life strikes deeply into one’s heart One’s thoughts and deeds will naturally accord with Dharma. If repeatedly and continuously one thinks about death, One can easily conquer the demons of laziness. No one knows when death will descend upon him— Just as this woman last night! Rechungpa, do not be harsh, and listen to your Guru! Behold, all manifestations in the outer world Are ephemeral like a dream last night! One feels utterly lost in sadness When one thinks of this passing dream. Rechungpa, have you completely wakened From this great puzzlement? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma. The pleasure-yearning human body is an ungrateful creditor. Whatever good you do to it, It always plants the seeds of pain. This human body is a bag of filth and dirt; Never be proud of it, Rechungpa, But listen to my song! When I look back at my body, I see it as a mirage-city; Though I may sustain it for a while, It is doomed to extinction. When I think of this, My heart is filled with grief! Rechungpa, would you not cut off samsāra? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma! A vicious person can never attain happiness. Errant thoughts are the cause of all regrets, Bad dispositions are the cause of all miseries, Never be voracious, oh Rechungpa, But listen to my song! When I look back at my clinging mind, It appears like a short-lived sparrow in the woods— Homeless, and with nowhere to sleep; When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief. Rechungpa, will you let yourself indulge in ill-will? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma! Human life is as precarious As a single slim hair of a horse’s tail Hanging on the verge of breaking; It may be snuffed out at anytime Like this old woman was last night! Do not cling to this life, Rechungpa, But listen to my song! When I observe inwardly my breathings I see they are transient, like the fog; They may vanish any moment into nought. When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief. Rechungpa, do you not want to conquer That insecurity now? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma. To be close to wicked kinsmen only causes hatred. The case of this old woman is a very good lesson. Rechungpa, stop your wishful-thinking And listen to my song! When I look at friends and consorts They appear as passers-by in the bazaar; Meeting with them is only temporary, But separation is forever! When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief. Rechungpa, do you not want to cast aside All worldly associations? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma. A rich man seldom enjoys The wealth that he has earned; This is the mockery of Karma and samsāra, Money and jewels gained through stinginess and toil Are like this old woman’s bag of food. Do not be covetous, Rechungpa, But listen to my song! When I look at the fortunes of the rich, They appear to me like honey to the bees— Hard work, serving only for others’ enjoyment, Is the fruit of their labour. When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief. Rechungpa, do you not want to open The treasury within your mind? Oh, the more I think of this, The more I aspire to Buddha and His Teachings. ~ Songs of Milarepa When Milarepa was sitting in meditation, a frightened deer dashed by, followed by a ravening hound. By the power of his loving-kindness and compassion (mettā-karuā), Milarepa made them lie down, one on either side of him, and then preached to them. Then came the fierce and proud huntsman, Chirawa Gwunbo Dorje, who was enraged by the sight of the Jetsun and shot an arrow at him, but missed. Milarepa sang to him and his heart began to turn to the Dharma. Then the hunter saw that Milarepa was living an austere life and great faith arose in him. He wished then to practise Dharma after talking with his family but the Jetsun warned him that his present meritorious thought might change and he sang: Hearken, hearken, huntsman! Though the thunder crashes, It is but empty sound; Though the rainbow is richly-coloured, It will soon fade away. The pleasures of this world are like dream-visions; Though one enjoys them, they are the source of sin. Though all we see may seem to be eternal, It will soon fall to pieces and will disappear. Yesterday perhaps one had enough or more, All today is gone and nothing’s left; Last year one was alive, this year one dies. Good food turns into poison, And the beloved companion turns into a foe. Harsh words and complaints requite Good-will and gratitude. Your sins hurt no one but yourself. Among one hundred heads, you value most your own. In all ten fingers, if one is cut, you feel the pain. Among all things you value, yourself is valued most. The time has come for you to help yourself Life flees fast. Soon death Will knock upon your door. It is foolish, therefore, one’s devotion to postpone. What else can loving kinsmen do But throw one into samsāra? To strive for happiness hereafter Is more important than to seek it now. The time has come for you to rely upon a Guru, The time has come to practise Dharma. ~ Songs of Milarepa
Posted on: Sat, 15 Mar 2014 14:14:20 +0000
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