After the winner has the prize,
Then each one may take in hand their respective arrows or spears.
On the peak of the mountain place thirteen drala castles,
With thirteen smoke-offering urns before them.
First, the golden throne that quells the three realms,
Second, Sengcham Drugmo of Kyalo,
Third, the Sevenfold Jewel of the Ancestral Treasury,
Fourth, the twelve volumes of the One Hundred Thousand Verses of the nāgas,
Fifth, the little nine-portioned blue tent of the nāgas,
Sixth, the fortress Sengtrug Tagtse,
Seventh, the districts of Ling, the twelve myriarchies.
These seven will be wagered on the horse race.
From the highest, Chipön,
Down to the most humble, Gu-ru,
No matter who wins, all must accept this without feuding,
For the brethren have reached their agreement.
Led by the one venerated by all, Guru Künga [All-Joyful],
Rabten of Ga who increases virtue, and
Guru Darbum [Silk Myriads] of Yatha,
May the thirteen gurus of Ling
Perform a smoke offering and a mighty praise of the dralas
So that the brethren are not cast down
And the horses beneath them are not injured.
Implore the imperial gods for refuge and protection.
These are my main points in this song.
Now listen to the way things are:
The general interests of everyone are like the moon on the third day;
Although slender, they will grow in purpose and result.
Personal desires are like the moon on the sixteenth day;
Although sizeable, they will grow smaller and smaller.
Given that the sole ornament of Jambudvīpa, this field of power, is the prize;
I think to settle this through a horse race is a bit too much.
When the competition begins, concerning the question of the horse’s speed,
I think that the determination of the winner can occur whether they run or not.
However the karmic patterns of the power field may be drawn,
What makes you think they can be uncovered by a mere animal?
If the power of your karma does not mandate leadership,
Do you really think just a horse could get the prize?
If you analyze it, it’s strange to give that such importance.
Oops, not supposed to say that—just joking!
When the horses are running neck and neck
There’s no way for there not to be one ahead and the others left behind;
There’s no way for two to be the fastest.
One wins, all the others lose when you’re competing for a prize.
Water can be free-flowing or held in a pot,
But when it turns to ice, the water is less yielding than the pot.
A beggar both has a head and [carries] a stick,
But until his dying day, the beggar’s head is harder than the stick.
A man and a stallion each have their own pace,
But if the pathway is narrow, the man will be faster than the horse.
Whoever wins will depend on their previous karma.
Thinking you’re the winner is fooling yourself.
This year, the horse race in White Ling
Is the dream of the humans that is revealed by the gods.
The divine prophecy has taken shape in your minds.
May whatever you wish for be placed in our hands.
May the gurus grant their blessings,
May the meditation deities dispel obstacles,
May the dharmapālas assist us in accomplishing miraculous activities,
And may the local deities befriend us.
May there be the auspiciousness of abundant well-being and happiness.
People of White Ling please keep this in mind.
Thus he offered this song.
Everyone thought that his words were true, because when honest speech is heard its nature is such that the listeners can gain confidence in their understanding. Feeling joy and gratitude, they each returned to their castles.
The decision of a goatskin-clad arbiter
Can’t be defaced even by a tigerskin-clad ruler.
So the proverb says and so it was. However, there were three men who, overcome by selfish desires, intended to oppose the arbiter’s decision.
Bumpa Gyatsha Zhalkar thought, “If the prize is lost to Dongtsen, it would mean that I had lost the horse race. I am not willing to give away this wager, and furthermore I will receive it through my own bravery. There is no way that I will leave my arms behind!”
Trothung of Tag-rong, not knowing what would come of it if Joru were in Ling, wondered what could be done to stop Joru from joining the ranks of the other brethren in the race.
Lowly Gu-ru, because he had none of the fine brocade and jeweled ornaments that were said to be necessary, sat there in a state of all-too-familiar anxiety.
This concludes the first chapter, which begins with the prophecy and leads to the celebration, known as the Saga of the Precious Wheel.
Thus the meaning of the phrase
At the moment the lotus appears from the mud,
The garland of lightning dawns in the center of the red mirrorg
has been explained. However, to recap, “garland of lightning” refers to the fact that during this time Joru created the false prophecy that was hard to believe in. Trothung boastfully professed to be a practitioner of Lotus Power Hayagrīva, and he actually convinced himself that the deity of his generation stage practice had appeared in the clear “red mirror” of his mind.
a. Menmo (Tib. sman mo) are female demons.
b. There is no way to literally translate “Hara Hurthung,” which means singing a song in a rough and frantic manner.
c. Bön deities are addressed because Trothung practiced a mixture of Buddhist and indigenous traditions.
d. Also called Nangchung Yuyi Metog and Nangchung Metag.
e. The traditional hat of each district.
f. The first month of summer (Tib. dbyar zla ra ba) is April or May.
g. At the end of every chapter there is a verse from the prayer written by Mipham Rinpoche, called the Supplication for the Horse Race. A short commentary by Gyurmed Thubten Jamyang Dragpa follows.
CHAPTER TWO
Zhal-lu Karpo sends Drugmo to invite Joru.
They meet at Lower Ma Valley.
Obstacles are cleared, and auspicious connections set.
This gives rise to the Saga of the Precious Queen.
THE SECOND [CHAPTER], describing how Drugmo came to invite [Joru] is as follows:
Uncle King Chipön, elder of the clan, knew that there was no other way to invite Joru other than to send Drugmo. Therefore, Chipön spoke to the warrior Gyatsha and the minister Denma about inviting the divine child Joru from Lower Ma. He told them, “Of course, it would be fine for me, Chipön, Father Senglön, or somebody else to go to invite him, but in order to fulfill the divine prediction so that Joru can open the auspicious connection gateway to his enlightened activity, we have no choice but to send Sengcham Drugmo. The two of you must go to the upper encampment of Kyalo and tell Drugmo that she has to go and get Joru, since it is she who is the reason for his banishment to Lower Ma and the source of this dispute. Force her to go with threats and hostile speech.”
Then the chieftain Bumpa Zhal-lu Karpo and the minister went up together and arrived at the tents of the upper encampment of Kyalo Tönpa Gyaltsen of Ga, where they engaged in extensive discussions. Finally, Bumpa Zhal-lu Karpo sang this song explaining the reason why Drugmo must go to invite Joru. It was sung in the melody White with Six Modulations:
The song is sung with Ala Ala Ala.
Thala is the melody of the song.
I supplicate the divine Rare and Precious Three Jewels.
Grant your b
lessings so that my speech may accomplish the words of truth.
In this place, the encampment of Kyalo,
I am Bumpa Gyatsha Zhalkar;
I am called the son of the Mu clan of the Lesser Lineage of Ling.
And I am Gyatsha, the nephew of the Chinese [emperor].
From the time I was born until today, like a father and mother
I have always taken care of my weaker cherished ones.
I have acted as the hammer that strikes the evil enemy.
Now at this time in this year [it has been said that]
The golden boulder of the governance of Ling
And Aunt Drugmo, the lake-born flower,
Are being placed as the trophy of the horse race.
If you really heard what I said, then the metaphors are like this:
The governance of Ling is the ocean of milk
Which, in this time of change, we must churn in a skin bag
Hoping to garner its essence of rich butter.29
If we don’t get it, I think I’ll just split the bag with my sword.
I won’t have any regrets, even if my thirst is unquenched.
Maiden Drugmo is the divine cuckoo bird,
She must alight to adorn our juniper tree of the Mu clan.
If she doesn’t, I think I’ll just scatter her feathers everywhere.
I won’t have any regrets, even if her song is no longer heard.
Just when my younger brother of Bumpa, Joru,
Thought to stay in his own happy land,
You, Drugmo, said you saw him kill the seven hunters;
That’s the root of the scandal that expelled him from White Ling.
With that, the apple of warrior Gyatsha’s eye was banished to the borderlands;
Joru paid the blood price of murdering no one.
In the end even though the falsity of these accusations has become clear,
The right hand of truth was never extended.
The brethren of Greater and Middle Ling are united,
But I, the chieftain of Bumpa, am without my younger brother.
Like a nose-less bride going to her in-laws
Seeing no happiness, my mind is pierced with pain
That cannot be cured even by the six good medicines.
So, to atone for your misdeeds, you must
Bring the boy Joru and his mother Gogmo
To the door of this warrior Gyatsha’s home.
If not, from this day onward,
The maiden Drugmo will atone with her very body;
With her eyes, nose, and right arm, these three,
She will recompense the families of the Lesser Lineage.
Then I can give Drugmo, less these three body parts,
As the prize to the horse Turquoise Bird.
As the ancient Tibetan proverb states:
Rather than give a valuable jewel to an enemy,
We’d happily throw it in the harmless river.
If you manage to invite the boy Joru back,
That will expiate all your crimes, maiden Drugmo,
And spare Father Kyalo mental anguish,
For who wins the prize is the result of their previous karma.
If someone is a true warrior, the trophy is already in his hands.
If you understood this song, it is sweet to your ears.
If not, there is no way to explain it.
Maiden Drugmo, bear this in mind.
Thus he spoke, proposing that Kyalo Tönpa Gyaltsen and Drugmo deliver an invitation [to Joru]. Zhalkar and his minister then departed.
Sengcham Drugmo of Kyalo, an emanation of White Tārā, was an undeceiving child of noble family, with a keen mind and clear insight, and she was a trustworthy friend on whom one could infallibly rely with complete confidence. She kept her promises and had great courage. She had both great passions as well as morality. Her body was supple like bamboo; her face as white as the rising moon, with cheeks so red it was as if they were smeared with vermillion. The proportions of her body were perfect and lovely to behold. Her black shiny hair flowed down her back. She had almond eyes with clear pupils. Her white teeth were perfectly even, and her soft skin was not too warm and not too cool. Her lips had the beautiful lines of a lotus and her tongue was ornamented with the white syllable ĀH. Her voice was melodious, and she was a skillful speaker. She got along with everyone, was easily adaptable, and utterly beautified without exception with all the excellent qualities of a youthful maiden. She was also skilled in the art of love. From every angle she was faultless, and charming from every point of view. The hair on her right was combed to the right. The hair on her left was combed to the left. Her plaited hair resembled the spread wings of a garuḍa. The hair falling down was tied so that it would not fly in the wind. It was studded with precious amber that outweighed the weight of the world. So that the fine hair at her temples would not flutter, it was held down by loops of turquoise and coral. She wore a long colorful necklace of zi beads interspersed with red coral, and she held a blue turquoise mala and a ruby amulet. She had a sapphire bracelet and a golden ring like the rising sun. Her beaver-lined chuba was spotted with the nine layers of color similar to astrological trigrams,30 and her silken boots were banded with the three colors of the rainbow. She was adorned with silk brocade encrusted with jewel ornaments. Even the sun and moon would lose their luster in comparison with her, even a divine celibate rishi would feel desire for her, even the radiance of the dazzling lotus would be stolen away by her, and even an enemy as murderous as Yama the Lord of Death would do whatever she asked.
Then Drugmo mounted her sorrel steed Garuḍa Wing and, carrying her provisions, set out for Lower Ma.
Meanwhile the divine child Joru told his mother Gogmo the following, “Mother, today Sengchen Drugmo of Kyalo is coming here. I must go to receive her,” and he left. When Drugmo arrived at the neighboring valley of the land of the Beri tribe at the edge of the Ma Valley, she came to a deserted place in the foothills. Given that she was a young woman wearing many ornaments, without a companion, the thought suddenly occurred to her that there could be bandits and thieves in the vicinity. She continued on but was overcome by fear. It was then that Joru intentionally manifested himself as a man in black riding a black horse. Brandishing in space a spear with a black banner that reached into the sky, he sang this song to Drugmo:
It’s Ala Ala Ala
And Thala Thala Thala.
In the palace of the Red Copper Castle
All classes of red tsen know me.
If you don’t recognize this place,
It is said to be the solitary alcove of Jachen Yölmo [Great Rainbow Alcove].
If you don’t recognize me,
The iron mountain beyond and the copper mountain
Merge as this fort of copper and iron
Where I reside and am known as Nyima Gyaltsen of Beri.
I’m a man who eats the raw flesh of the enemy;
I’m a man who quenches thirst with the enemy’s blood;
I’m a man who takes as booty the enemy’s possessions.
I’ve never let anyone get the best of me.
For the powerless, I know no pity.
Now then, you flashy young girl,
Listen, I have a few questions for you.31
A person carrying valuables on their back Must have some plan in mind,
For if not, why carry all that baggage?
Merchants from Ladakh and central Tibet have mules laden with boxes of gold.
Their aim is to get the silk from the Chinese girls’ looms.32
They hope to bring lots of silk back to central Tibet;
Thinking they will hawk it before a great man,
They aim to profit from the precious goods.
Merchants from China have dzo laden with boxes of tea.
Their aim is to get the white silver.
They hope to bring the shining silver back to China;
Wishing to make public their profit in the bazaar,
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br /> They hope to fill their treasury with white silver.
The maiden girl carries her gold as ornaments on her body.
Her aim is to attract a gigolo.
She hopes to hook a true love;
Planning to make her cunt and its coverings common property,
Her wish is to make the gigolo’s penis her very own.
To rely on what your mind actually desires is difficult.
All your goods, the profit of good business, will be taken by this robber.
Young piece of ass desiring a gigolo, you will now just go naked.
Let’s see if this is true, flashy young girl.
The mind of a girl and that of a pig are the same,
One will wiggle their ass in front of a boy and the other in front of food.
A raven and a girl are the same,
They will chatter while perched on a tree of paradise,
And will be cheerful when looking down upon the dunghill of misery.
The mind of a girl and that of a fish are the same,
If you pick them up with a gentle hand, they will quiver and thrash,
But if you pierce them with a cruel iron hook, they will ease off.
Your jewel ornaments seem to be the ancestral wealth of the nāgas;
Your body with its countenance makes you seem a daughter of the gods,
But without refuge, it seems that misfortune is your guide.
Now I will tell it like it is:
First, your bracelet of pure gold,
Second, your self-originating zi stone ornament,
And third, your earrings of excellent white turquoise—
If these jewels are in the hands of a rich person, it is the abundant wealth of a lifetime
Gathered here on a lovely woman’s body for just one day.
Tell me honestly how you have collected this and
What father’s name you have left behind
And to what family are you heading.
Don’t keep it secret, quickly tell me the truth.
The Epic of Gesar of Ling Page 43