And metal like that of their offspring, like shooting stars,19
With patterns on the blade like banking southern clouds.
Wielding it, it outshines the eight classes of gods with its splendor.
Striking with it crushes boulders to dust.
Jang Nyitri Karchen, I offer this to you.
The iron dust that the birds shat out
The blacksmith of the king of the tsen spirits, Yamshüd,k
In the obscure darkness of night forged into the sword
Azi Dugral Barwa [Blazing Poison Slasher].
The nape of the sword is as radiant as dawn,
The belly of the blade is as dark as nightfall,
The patterns on the blade swirl like the ocean.
Hard, tempered iron like an angry rākṣa,
Malleable iron like a tied knot.
Striking, it eats the enemy’s flesh.
Lhabu Legpa of Hor, I offer this to you.
The iron still left in the birds’ stomachs,
Even as the morning star shone
The blacksmith of the the’u ranglmagically forged into another sword—
Striking molten bell metal
And forging molten bronze
Tempered in crocodile blood.
Dralas surround the nape of this sword,
Teeming and ready to act.
Gandharvas throng the dark razor edge of the blade,
They gather so densely that their groaning can be heard.
Patterns swirl on the blade like the ocean,
Their pounded imprint like swelling waves.
It is said that if you strike a great river
With this wind sword,20 it will reverse the river’s flow.
When it was in the country of China,
It was known as Tongtse Zilnön [Splendidly Quelling a Thousand Sword Tips].
This is the sword of your heritage, Chief Zhal-lu of Ling.
Here are various types of gold, silver, and silk,
Varieties of tea and so forth which I offer—
Offerings by the hundreds to each one of you in celebration.
These [offerings] are to show my appreciation at meeting my nephews.
To be a high leader of the great districts
You must bring down the mighty and
Like a parent, protect the humble and weak.
Like split bamboo, your actions discern truth from falsity.
Be open-minded like the expanse of space,
With upāya and prajñā like the rising sun;
Then your plan will be gentle like the earth and water in spring.m
Goals will not be accomplished solely by persistence.
If you can’t defeat the enemy and he overcomes you,
Then you will be unable to protect those who are weak.
If you only think of gaining wealth
Then you will never have a reputation for honest justice.
According to ancient Tibetan proverbs:
On nine round trips to China with the white garuḍa dzo,n
Although there is no intention to wound its back with a heavy burden,
That’s the likely outcome if business is profitable.
Riding your steed nine roundtrips to steal,
Although there is no intention to whip its buttocks,
That’s the likely outcome if you are after a pretty penny.
Swearing oaths of friendship nine times,
Although there is no intention to hurt each other’s feelings with evil words,
That’s the likely outcome if the mind is stirred to anger.
Heart essence of China, my three nephews,
You are close relatives so don’t think to bicker.
But if there is strife between the great countries, that’s the likely outcome.
With unwavering minds, keep this in your heart.
It’s pointless for three brothers to show a hostile face to one another.
Let all three brother swords remain sheathed together,
Always corral the three brothers’ horses together,
For this promotes the dignity of the pure maternal lineage.
No doubt the great garuḍas are powerful,
But it is unthinkable that they would bare their claws and fight up in space
For they think only of the dignity of the king of birds.
No doubt the three strengths of the white snow lion are fully matured,
But it is unthinkable that they would fight down on the earth
For they think only of the dignity of the wild beasts.
If you understand this, it is treacle to the ear;
If you don’t, there is no explanation for this song.
Three princes, keep this in mind.
After he spoke, everyone was filled with measureless delight. Then the three princes with their ministers, retinue, horses, mules, and the like safely returned to their own places.
[Gyatsha Zhalkar learns of the death of Lenpa Chögyal.]
While Gyatsha of Bumpa had been traveling from colorful White Ling to China, war had broken out between Gog and Ling. Eighteen paternal clans of Gog were destroyed by Ling. In the end Chipön’s own son, Lenpa Chögyal, was lost to Gog. For some time they kept this secret from Gyatsha. One day Gyatsha went hunting and, near the spring Karmo Bumkhyil [White Spring of Myriad Swirls], he killed a deer. Just then two wandering villagers from Ling, a mother and son, showed up. The mother realized who he was and said, “Hey, you must be Gyatsha. How wonderful! With you White Ling has everything; without you there is nothing. It’s really true. Last year without Gyatsha, Gog and Ling fought, and even though Ling destroyed eighteen patriarchal clans of Gog, what was the point, since Lenpa Chögyal, Chipön’s cherished heart-son was killed? Even now, in the districts of White Ling they are saying that you, Gyatsha, will take revenge. Since I happen to be here in your honor’s presence, kind leader, won’t you please give me a share of this meat you’ve just killed?” He gave her whatever meat she wanted and carefully asked her questions. She spoke without concealing anything.
Anguish pierced Zhalkar’s heart, and instantly he went to the Falcon Fortress to see Chipön, saying, “O King Uncle Chipön, sir. In the first place, how regretful it is to lack the ability to guard one’s own kind; in the second place, to be and to act lewd and brainless; and third, indulging in the practice of thievery, keeping this secret to yourself while it is spoken of by the rest of the world.21 It seems that this is really the way things are,” he said, and then broke into this short warrior’s song:
The song is Ala Thala Thala.
Thala is the melody.
I bow at the feet of the refuge, the Oceanic Victorious One.
In case you don’t recognize this place,
It is the wealthy Trakhar Namdzong.
In case you don’t recognize the likes of me,
I am Gyatsha Zhalkar of Bumpa.
I am a maternal nephew of the leader, the Emperor of China.
Now then, King Chipön, sir,
They say your great intelligence is like the dawn sky.
But look at you—you’re more like the dusk than the dawn.
According to the ancient proverbs of the elders:
If the minister is corrupt, it should be discussed with the chief.
When at war, if somebody is lost to the enemy, a full account should be reported to the warriors.
If there’s been a robbery, then call out for a clever lad.
These are three instances where it is good to speak out.
But man, you have stayed silent to hide your faults
And the words of a beggar woman have shamed me with her chiding.22
My older cousin Lenpa Chögyal—
When I think of him now, the winds of my heart grow angry.
First of all, a meaningless battle with Gog,
Second, allowing intermarriage with Hor.
It started with the evil shadow of Yellow Hor
And the ill-omened daughter of Künga [All Joy
ous];
These two brought the downfall of my elder cousin.
Künga’s daughter, Zima-tso [Ocean Froth],
Must be sent back to Hor with her tears.23
I will not allow her to remain in White Ling.
My elder cousin was lost to Gog:
I, Gyatsha, will be his avenger.
I am Zhalkar, like a white snow lion;
The six skills of a warrior are my luxuriant turquoise mane.
To eat the red meat of my enemy like a hunter eats his game
I do not need the help of a carnivorous fox.
I am Gyatsha, like a tiger in its prime;
My body shining with its armor and weapons are its six smiles.
To drink the heart’s blood of the enemy ponies
I do not need a platoon of spotted leopards.
I’ll tarry no longer, but go to the land of Upper Gog,
First to take ninefold revenge,24
Second, to drink more of the heart’s blood of the enemy,
And third to see to it that the land of Gog is no more.
Failing this, I, Gyatsha, will be merely a corpse.
If you understand this speech, it is sweet to your ears;
If you don’t, there is no way to explain it.
Chipön keep this in your mind.
[Chipön counsels Zhalkar to moderation.]25
As soon as he had finished, Gyatsha decided to set off for Gog by himself without further discussion. Chipön thought that it was better not to go to war at this time, but he could not manage to convince Zhalkar. He wondered how Zhalkar could possibly go there alone and decided he had better speak with him about this. So Chipön sang this song about the previous events and preparations the warriors must make for the coming battle:
I can’t help but sing this song;
If I don’t sing it, there’s nothing left to do.
When happy, this is a marvelous song for drinking tea and liquor;
When sad, it is a song to uplift the spirits.
Unfailing Three Jewels of Refuge and
Worldly zodors of White Ling,
Come here today to befriend Chipön.
Precious jewel of the divine lineage of Bumpa,
With a relaxed mind, please listen to what I have to say.
Last year, we clashed with Gog about land and people
And, since we reached neither treaty nor accord
The result was war between Gog and Ling.
Three men could wait no longer:
The chieftain Zigpen of Tag-rong,
Chipön’s son Lenpa Chögyal, and the
Maternal Uncle Denma Jangtra
Left for the upper land of Gog
And destroyed the eighteen father tribes of Gog,
But the benefit was little for in the end
Lenpa Chögyal was slain.
Hence, Ling has had its ninefold revenge;
The lives of all the men were taken
And Gog became a land of widows.
But the community of Ralo Tönpa
Had been concealed by gods, nāgas, and nyens, and
Overlooked by Ling, they had been forgotten.
Still the thought of defeating him doesn’t fit in my mind,
For their protector and refuge is known as Padma Uḍḍiyāṇa,
Their guardian is the nāga king Tsugna Rinchen,
And nāga Tsugna’s own daughter is in Gog.
So this is what I, Chipön, think:
In the Mother Text of the Mukpo clan it is said:
That jewel within the ocean
Will be taken by the mouse from the pinnacle of the victory banner.
Whatever positive qualities are desired will be accomplished.26
Thus it is said.
If you analyze this, isn’t it about the present situation?
Last year during the turmoil of battle we:
Raised a really long club,
But only smacked a really short mutt.
This unwanted year of famine
Fell upon those who are weak, unfortunate, and suffering.
The kinsmen of Ling put their heads together,
But I, Chipön, was without my son.
According to the ancient proverbs:
Even if the feathers of the king of birds fall out,
Don’t think that the white crag will change.
Even if the golden-eyed fish is caught on a hook,
Don’t think the ocean will swell or ebb.
Even if in battle you lose a loved one, who is as precious as your own eyes,
Don’t think to take revenge your whole life.
Knowing I’m sonless does not make me sad
Because my maternal nephew Gyatsha is alive and well.
I have no thought to seek revenge.
I swear this is true on the ancestral One Hundred Thousand Verse Scripture.
Let me tell you my darkest secrets:
First, the daughter of the nāga king Tsugna,
Second, the dri with prosperity horns,
Third, the little blue nine-partitioned tent,
Fourth, the twelve scriptures of the nāgas’ One Hundred Thousand Verses—
The inner treasures of the underwater nāgas—
Are now the inner wealth of Ralo Tönpa.
I wonder if Ling will have dominion over these four.
When that happens, whatever we wish will be fulfilled.
When the year of the Mouse begins
I think the prophecy will have come to pass.
Treasure these words as the jewel within your collar.
If you go, there’s no reason for you to go alone.
Let us all go shoulder to shoulder with Zigphen of Tag-rong,
And with Denma bringing up the rear guard.
Go with an army seventy-thousand strong.
You must bring together the heads and necks of your kinsmen.
To the divine country god zodor
Make offerings, praise with smoke and windhorse.
Dear leader Zhalkar, this is your first raid;
Perhaps without fighting you may be victorious.
If you understand these words, they’re sweet to your ear.
If not, there is no way to explain it.
Leader Zhalkar, keep this in your heart.
Then the uncles and nephews had a productive discussion. The very next morning, messages and messengers were sent forth like falling snow to the upper, lower, and middle regions of Ling. The Brethren decided among themselves that they would dispatch an army of seventy thousand to Gog. Three days later, at the crack of dawn, assembling at Tagthang Tramo, they gathered in a state of perfect readiness.
[Trothung forewarns Ralo Tönpa Gyaltsen.]
Then Trothung thought: “This Bumpa Zhal-luo is the very one who is skillful at holding a white snow lion by its claws and a tiger in its prime by the tips of its ears. If the Brethren and his comrades-in-arms follow him to Gog, then the land of Gog will be no more; they will utterly annihilate it. This daughter of nāga Tsugna as well as their wealth will be our spoils. Zhal-lu will become legendary throughout Tibet. Even though all the treasures we capture will become the general property of Ling, surely the daughter would come to belong to the Lesser Lineage. I must do something about this.
Therefore, I’ll do them the great favor of sending a messenger pigeon. Afterward, exercising my skill, I will ask them to give the nāga princess to Tag-rong, where she will be my portion and personal possession. Along with her I will certainly acquire some of the wealth of the nāgas. Even if that doesn’t work out, the nāga Tsugna Rinchen is still her father, so what could be better than that?”
And so, he got himself a golden arrow, wrote this letter, blessed it with the mantra for speed travel and attached it to the neck of the arrow, releasing it from the bowstring.
Respectfully presented to Ralo Tönpa Gyaltsen of Gog, From Trothung, the Chief of Tag-rong:
Seeking vengeance for the death of Chipön’s son last
year, Bumpa Zhalkar, leading seven armies of ten thousand mighty warriors each, has decided to attack you the day after tomorrow. Fighting them off is beyond hope. Therefore by nightfall it is vital for you to escape and hide in a safe place.
Now I have done you a great favor. Afterward, if I have a little hope, don’t forget to honor it.
[Ralo Tönpa receives Trothung’s letter and makes his escape, but the nāga princess wanders away.]
Then he [Trothung] invoked and enjoined the arrow to land on the top of Ralo’s tent. He shot it from the peak of Gedzo Rimar [Red Mountain of the Spirit-Lord Gedzo] and, with a crackling sound, the arrow struck the top of the tent. Ralo Tönpa quickly read the letter tied to the neck of that arrow, and, understanding its meaning, he immediately sent messengers and messages throughout the land of Gog. The entire country of Gog including its army fled, but the mules and yaks were unable to carry the turquoise tent and the One Hundred Thousand Verse Scripture. They just managed to lift the nāga treasure onto the back of the dri with wealth horns. That very night they started out and headed for the Ma Valley, which borders the country of Hor. While they were making their nightfall escape, the dri carrying the nāga treasure turned around and went back in the other direction on the path. The nāga daughter saw this, but no one else did. Because the moment of destiny had come, although the nāginī was riding a horse, she dismounted and, feeling more inclined to walk, tracked the dri on foot. She was unable catch the dri, but her horse got loose and went back the other way, following the clan. Although she called back to them, by the power of karma, no one could hear her. Alone, she followed after the dri along the banks of the empty Ma Valley, and, when she stopped, the dri would stop as well. Whether she went quickly or slowly, the dri would do the same, and so she couldn’t quite catch up with it. Continually falling just short of catching it, she wandered wherever the dri went. The path they took wandered about aimlessly. During that time it never even occurred to her that she might be suffering from hunger, thirst, pain, and exhaustion.
The Epic of Gesar of Ling Page 24