The Epic of Gesar of Ling

by Robin Kornman

You say that the prophecy of the emanation of Hayagrīva

  Is a bad omen, misfortune’s guide.

  [Your doubts] have disordered the gateway of good fortune.

  The only reason I don’t cut off your mouth and nose for this

  Is that we’ve lived together and had nine sons.

  The moment Sengcham arrives

  At the inner castle of Tiger Fortress,

  You should place in her hands

  The keys to the treasury, the jewel case, and the bedroom, these three.

  The handle of the spoon, the ladle, and the cup,20

  You can keep in your own hands.21

  Or if not, if you want to go far away, then you should go.

  In the three months of spring, wrathful wrinkles in the ice

  Can’t help but thaw for they are chased away22 by the warmth.

  In the three months of autumn, the frenzy to harvest the lentils and grain

  Can’t be helped, for the harvest is chased by the frost.

  Denza, who resents the gods,

  Will now have no choice but to wander off alone.

  When the sun of Sengcham arises

  It will then be time for this homely owl to fly away.

  The divine flower of Sengcham

  Ornaments the lake of the great province of Tag-rong;

  Nectar for the eyes of those who behold her,

  To be partaken of and enjoyed by the bee, Trogyal.

  You, Denza, but a meadow flower

  Blooming on the plains, think you are beautiful,

  But the hoarfrost of age chases after you.

  You are but a path for people to tread on.

  Although this may be sad, there is no need to feel regret, for this is the decree of karma.

  Concerning the treasure trove of Tag-rong’s food,

  If your hands are too clumsy for the work,

  There is no need for you, Denza, to be there, just go your way.

  My daughter Tromo-tso [Wrathful Lake],

  Playmate of Sengcham Drugmo,

  Must now quickly prepare for the festival.

  You, the messenger Akhöd Tharpa Zorna,

  Don’t linger but go without delay

  To upper Dil-yak Tiger Plain [Good Hill Tiger Plain]

  And strike the great gong of the law

  And quickly sound the loud conch of the law.

  Take particular care to inform Gyatsha and

  Formally invite Chief Zigphen.

  Tell them that before the hailstorm of the other districts

  Steals away the radiant lotus of Sengcham’s smile,

  I think that Kyalo’s daughter as well as his wealth should be wagered along with

  The sevenfold jewels of the treasure trove

  As the prize for the fastest horse.

  This great festival to celebrate a noble goal

  Will be arranged by the Tag-rong clan.

  Let us invite all the brethren to join in.

  We will deliberate on the tenth day of the waxing moon;

  The horse race will be held on the fifteenth.

  These are my plans; please discuss them among yourselves.

  If you have understood this, it is sweet to your ears.

  If not, there is no way to explain it.

  Denza thought, “A proverb tells us:

  Just as karma from past lifetimes cannot be sidestepped,

  Wrinkles on one’s forehead cannot be erased.

  That’s just what this is like: I can’t separate from my previous karmic connection with Trothung. Day or night I’ve always spoken to him with an open heart, yet not only does he not listen, he keeps on getting angry. Perhaps it is useless to try to explain myself.” Hence she just gave up and began making preparations for the festival.

  Akhöd Tharpa Zorna rushed off to sound the gong and the conch of the law. Besides Gyatsha Zhalkar, he invited all of Upper Ling with ki! and all of lower Ling with so! He made sure that Gyatsha was told, and he extended a personal invitation to Zigphen. So, when the highest mountains donned their golden hats, the Thirty Mighty Warriors, the Seven Super Warriors, and the Three Ultimate Warriors—Falcon, Eagle, and Wolf—all came together, just as the fine red tiger rises from his lair. They came thronging with drala flags on their threefold panoply, pennants flapping on their helmets, longevity knots billowing behind from their cloaks, the swift-gaited horses dazzling in formation. Once they had all arrived, Akhöd Tharpa Zorna began to relate the details of the planned festival in Tag-rong and recounted how Trothung had received the prophecy. He sang this song in the melody of A Gently Flowing River:

  The song is Ala Ala Ala.

  Thala is the melody.

  May the Three Refuges of guru, yidam, and ḍākinī

  Remain inseparable as my crown ornament.

  Dwelling there, may blessings be bestowed.

  If you don’t recognize this place

  It is the gathering place of upper Tiger Plain,

  Tshogs-sa A-lung Rawa [Assembly Ground Circle Enclosure].

  If you don’t recognize me,

  I am known as Akhöd Tharpa Zorna.

  I am the personal minister of Chieftain Tag-rong.

  I have been sent here on an important mission

  That concerns the political affairs of White Ling.

  The night before last, in the predawn hour,

  The chieftain of Tag-rong, Trothung, received

  This prophecy from the God of the North:

  In the rich field of Father Kyalo,

  Grows the sprout of well-born Drugmo;

  Now her youth has reached maturity like the six grains.

  If the brethren don’t know how to hold and cherish her,

  It is said she will be carried away by the hail of foreign districts.

  The golden throne, the status of king, along with Drugmo—

  These precious jewels of the ocean of White Ling,

  Will be received in reliance upon the ship of the noble steed.

  If the karmic windhorse23 of whoever is the fastest is placed atop the victory banner,

  It is said that they will be honored by reaping all that is desired.

  Now hear the command of mighty Tag-rong:

  Today, on the excellent occasion of the tenth day,

  Let us gather to celebrate and discuss the festivities;

  On the fifteenth day the noble steeds should line up for the race.

  What does everyone think?

  In order to make a plan, invite the brethren to be seated in their ranks for the celebration.

  Not idling I have come as the assiduous servant.

  There is a well-known proverb of the ancient ones:

  A beautiful maiden as a life companion

  Many desire, but few receive.

  The harvest of saṃsāric happiness

  Many think feasible, but few reap.

  With arrow, horse, or dice,

  Of course you go all-out, hoping to win;

  Whether you win or lose is your previous karma.

  There’s not a single chief in White Ling

  Who doesn’t fancy Sengcham Lotus Garland.

  If only each one of you could win her!

  It’s such a shame that there can be only a single winner.

  Even if you three great chiefs [Senglön, Trothung, and Chipön] and the mighty warriors

  Were to beseech Kyalo Tönpa Gyaltsen at once,

  There would be no way for him to bestow her.

  In China, India, and Yellow Hor,

  Sengcham appears like food to the hungry.

  Therefore the youthful warriors should agree that,

  No matter who wins this prize, they will have no regret.

  I think this would align with the prophecy of the gods and accord with the wishes of humans.

  I mean no disrespect; this is just how it is.

  If you heard this song, it is an offering ornament to your ears.

  If not, there’s no way to explain it.

  T
hus he sang, and although Gyatsha, Darphen, Sengtag, and most of the warriors saw no problem with the wager itself, nevertheless, given that Trothung had said that the reward would go to the winner of the horse race, they realized that Tag-rong’s son Dongtsen’s horse, Turquoise Bird, was the fastest horse of all. This made them feel that Tag-rong’s idea was a bit self-serving. As a result, they didn’t take to the idea, but still they said nothing while everyone sat there wondering what Uncle Chipön would say. Uncle Chipön already knew that it was predicted that “when Joru reached the age of twelve he would catch the noble steed and based on the wager, the sun [Joru] would rise [Gesar] from the eastern peaks, and that until then the blue swords would remain sheathed.” Although he now knew that the time had arrived for what had been set down in the prophecy, Chipön thought it would be good to delay [the horse race], otherwise it would be meaningless, since it was predicted that Joru would capture a magical horse.

  Then his [Chipön’s] face broke out into a smile, and his chest shook with laughter as he said, “Ya, well then, Tharpa Zorna, you’re right. Sengcham is renowned, and Kyalo is rich. This is going to pose a major calamity for the land of Ling. Now, according to the prophecy, there is no problem with wagering this prize on the horse race, but if the race is held in this particular place in the third month of winter, the mountain pass will be solid ice and there will be dust storms on the plains. If a horse gallops on frozen ground, even a robust rider will fall off, plus there is the danger that even a wild horse could be injured. Therefore, it is necessary to delay this for awhile. On the fifteenth day, all the people of Upper and Lower Ling without exception should assemble for the festival, and we can then discuss all of this in more detail.” When the mighty warrior brethren heard this, they all agreed and went back to their homes.

  Then Akhöd Tharpa Zorna went back to Trothung and recounted every detail of what had transpired. Trothung was overjoyed and was further convinced that this prediction of Hayagrīva had not been mistaken. At the same time, all the warriors of upper White Ling, from the highest elders of fathers and uncles to the youngest babies, from the highest Tag-rong to the lowest Gu-ru, yearned to win the lovely Drugmo even more than they all hoped to gain the golden throne and the treasure trove. Each one of them supplicated his own gods, each asked his own lama to pray, and each asked their ceremonial masters to do rituals just for him. Each made smoke offerings to his own local deity and raised windhorse as his own drala castle. Among them all, only the man of great vision, King Chipön, and the man of great wisdom, Denma Jangtra, knew from previous signs that Joru would take his seat on the throne.

  Although Gyatsha Zhalkar of Bumpa knew that there was no other possible master than Joru, he still thought, “I’m afraid he might lose to Dongtsen,” and sat there in a state of doubt.

  Then, at the pinnacle of the Earth Ox year, on the fifteenth day of the twelfth month, in the community tent of Tag-rong, gurus like the sun and the moon in the firmament, fathers and uncles like royal Mount Meru, mothers and aunts like silken ice on a lake, young braves, the tigers in their prime swift as new-feathered bamboo arrows, and all the maidens fresh as blossoming flowers in the summertime, all arrived for the festival. They were like snow descending on a mountain pass and fog banks drifting into the valley. Then the great arbiter Werma Lhadar sang this song to arrange the seating of the ranks:

  It’s Ala Ala Ala,

  And Thala is the melody of the song.

  Machen, the cosmic Zodor,

  Lha, nyen, lu, wermas, and so on,

  All the dralas who keep the ancestral tradition of Mukpo clan,

  Come here today and befriend this arbiter.

  This place is near the Tag-rong castle.

  Within this assembly ground of the Joyful Enclosure

  Is the community tent that is in line with the law.

  In case you don’t recognize me,

  I am the great arbiter Werma Lhadar.

  Today on this auspicious occasion,

  First is the gathering of the brethren for the festival celebration.

  Second is the announcement of the prophecy that will lead us to happiness.

  Third, the discussion of how the finish-line ribbon will be broken,

  And fourth is the arrangement of the ranks for Tag-rong’s festival.

  Since the proper arrangement of the four stations24 creates an auspicious connection,

  This arbiter will begin with the arrangement of the ranks.

  In the front are silver thrones on either side.

  On stacks of cushions covered with silk brocade:

  Gyatsha Zhalkar of Bumpa,

  Nyibum Daryag of Serpa,

  Anu Paseng of Ombu,

  And Rinchen Darlu of Muchang

  Will be seated as the Four Divine Heirs.

  Next, in the middle rank upon rows of cushions,

  Upon silken seats covered with silk brocade:

  First, King Chipön will be seated,

  Second, King Trothung of Tag-rong,

  Third, King Senglön,

  Fourth will be Namkha Sengzhal [Sky Lion Face],

  Fifth will sit Guru Gyaltsen [Guru Victory Banner],

  Sixth, Tönpa Gyaltsen [Teacher Victory Banner],

  Seventh, Nyima Gyaltsen [Sun Victory Banner] of Kar-ru,

  And eighth, Tharpa Gyaltsen [Liberation Victory Banner] of Nag-ru.

  These last four are the men who hold the name Gyaltsen.

  Then the row for the brethren

  Seated in rank on the right upon stacked cushions,

  And round seats covered with leopard skin:

  Chieftain Zigphen of Tag-rong,

  Second will be Chökyong Bernag of Gadei,

  Third, Chölu Buyi Darphen of Mukpo Dong,

  Fourth, incomparable Sengtag Adom,

  Fifth, the royal maternal nephew Denma Jangtra,

  Sixth, the fierce warrior Nya-tsha Aten,

  Seventh, Dongtsen Nang-ngu Apel,

  And eighth, fierce Nyima Lhundrub.

  Next the row for the warriors

  Seated in rank on the left upon stacked cushions

  Colorful seats covered with tiger skins:

  Michen Gyalwei [Great Man Spontaneously Accomplished Victor],

  Second, the chiliarch Treltsei,

  Third, the centurion Serghaṃ,

  Fourth sits Yuyag Gönpo,

  Fifth, Buchung Daryag, [Young Lad Excellent Banner] of Serpa,

  Sixth, Tsangpa’i Ngo-lug of Agê,

  Seventh, Dar-’jam25 Ngo-lug of Mupa

  And eighth, Sintsha Ngo-lug of Tag-rong.

  The last three are the Ngo-lug [Sheep-a-Peep] brothers.

  Furthermore, at the row for the swift-horsed ones entitled Chieftains,

  Seated in lateral ranks on stacked cushions

  And seats covered with the spotted lynx fur

  Is first, Norbu Lhadar, maternal nephew of Rong,

  Second, sweet youth Yuyi Metogd [Turquoise Flower],

  Third, handsome Drug-gyal [Victorious Dragon] of Kyalo,

  Fourth, the young warrior Cho-nga Paser Dawa [Young Warrior of the Full Moon],

  Fifth, Lynx Cub Kyatra,

  Sixth is Chief Singsing of Ca-nag,

  Seventh is Changtri Ngamchen of Ombu.

  Eighth is Zhalkar Gyangdrag of Mupa.

  Following them, in the row for the dear lads,

  Seated in a lateral rank on the left

  On neatly arranged cushions covered with white-breasted bear skin

  Will be Lingchen Tharpa Sönam

  And Abar Puyi Paljor [Prosperity of Abar’s Son],

  The judge Wangpo Darphen

  And the great arbiter Werma Lhadar, myself,

  The doctor Künga Nyima,

  And diviner Künshei Thigpo,

  The astrologer Lhabu Yangkar [Prince White Prosperity],

  And eighth, the magician Khache Migmar.

  Following them at the row for the relatives and friends,

  Seated on the back rank
at the right on cushions covered with silk,

  Is first Sengcham Drugmo of Kyalo,

  Second, Kyidkyi Nichung [Joyful Little Parrot] of Ngolo,

  Third, Chipön’s daughter Yudrön,

  Fourth, Pekar Lhadzei of Drolo [White Lotus Divine Beauty],

  Fifth, Denma’s daughter Dzeidrön [Lovely Lamp],

  Sixth, Yatha’s daughter Ser-tso [Golden Lake],

  Seventh, Tag-rong’s daughter Tromo-tso.

  These are the Seven Fair Maidens of White Ling.

  Following them another beauteous line of fair maidens are

  Seated on the back rank on the left on cushions covered with silk:

  First is Tashi Lhatso [Auspicious Divine Lake] from central Tibet,

  Second, Lhakar Drönma [Divine White Torch] of China,

  Third, Kharagdza of Ser-tso [Golden Lake],

  Fourth, the great father’s daughter Ragza of Ge-tso [Lake of Virtue].

  These in turn were the swift-horsed mothers and aunts.

  Seated on the remaining long kyang-hide cushions

  Are the Tibetan youth Michung Khadei [Young Clever Mouth],

  The handy servant Pagyal Akhöd Tharpa Zorna,

  The son of Khyishi Gu-ru,

  And the rest, who will take their seats according to age.

  In the white dharma tent on the highest seats of all,

  I need not say that the gurus will be seated according to their ordination rank.

  Each man, please sing of your pleasure;

  Each fair maiden, step out a lovely dance;

  Brethren, cheerfully meet and discuss your plans.

  Today on the occasion of this festival,

  May the blue sky show that there are no divine grudges.

  May the dense earth show no enviousness among us.

  May all disaster be gone in greater Tibet.

  If my song has brought confusion, I confess it.

  If my words were frivolous, I beg your forgiveness.

  Thus he sang as each of them took their respective seats. The three whites and the various victuals were like a swirling ocean; the three sweets and the fruits seemed to fall like a pleasant rain. Like an avalanche from a crag there were meats, cheese, and other victuals and drink; tea, liquor, and other beverages flowed like a river. Each person sang a song of good cheer. The fair maidens gaily performed their playful dances. When everybody was enjoying themselves, the chieftain of Tag-rong, Trothung, in order to tell how the festival had come about, how he had received the prophecy, and why it would be best to have a horse race, raised this song in the melody of the Roaring Tigress: