The Epic of Gesar of Ling
Page 49
I can’t tell the difference!
Thus she sang this lovely song, and Joru threw the lasso such that the loop caught the musk deer by the neck. Then Joru pulled the deer in front of Drugmo, and as they struggled, Drugmo began stoning the deer to death. Suddenly Joru stood up and said, “Shocking! Sister Drugmo, I’m supposed to be the one who tamed the deer, but you jumped the gun and killed him. This deer’s death was in vain, and Joru’s opportunity to tame him was lost.71 Now the mind of this deer has been cast down into the lower realms, and you have dishonored your father Kyalo’s tribe. You even said something as crass as, ‘if it is a buck, I want the musk; if it is a doe, I want the meat,’ like the saying, ruining one’s wealth over a single meal.
When it comes to the horse race of White Ling, since you are the heart jewel for which the Noble Steed is competing, now I’m compelled to broadcast this story using your name and reputation. Not only that, if I really think about the way you spoke, pretending to see that appearances were not really as they seemed, I would have thought you would never kill this deer. You seem to care about evil deeds versus virtue, but look at how viciously you killed him. Now listen to this song,” and he began to sing in the melody of Unchanging Longevity:
It is Ala Ala Ala.
Thala is the melody of the song.
May the Three Jewels of Refuge
Dwell inseparably as my crown ornaments.
This place is Nyag-ma’i Dong [Notch Ridge]72 in the shade of Ma,
I am called Gogmo’s Joru.
Listen and I’ll tell you how it is:
Meditation that is without learning
Is like an arrow without a bow, and Learning without any practice
Is like a bow without an arrow.
It is hard to unite these two,
But if it is done, that makes an authentic guru.
Bravery without armor and weapons
Is like a sword without a handle, and
Armor and weapons without bravery
Are like a handle with no sword.
It is hard to unite these two,
But if it is done, that makes a hero.
A good-looking woman with no wisdom
Is like a slingshot without a stone;
Although fashionable, is not practical.
A wise woman without good looks
Is like a stone with no slingshot;
There when you want her, but not useful.
It is hard to unite them,
But if it is done, that makes the perfect woman.
With inner intelligence as sharp as the point of a lance,
Speech as elegant as the colorful banner,
Deeds as valuable as the sandalwood handle—
If these three unite, that’s called a wise person.
But to have brought them together is difficult.
Mistakes that are made through lack of understanding
Are like the suicide of a madman.
Having understanding but applying it mistakenly
Is like an animal that licks its own ass.73
Words without deeds
Are like a bird without its six wings.
Saying that Joru does not really exist, but is an illusion—
What’s the point of bringing a mere phantom to Ling?
Saying that the musk deer does not really exist, but is an illusion—
What’s the point of killing a magical emanation with a stone?
Your intentions, words, and deeds, these three,
Each one is more exaggerated than the next.
Your devious intent, your critical words,
And your deeds only sow the seeds of sin.
Your name Sengcham, Lion Sister, means nothing,
Calling yourself Drugmo is full of conceit.
A raven carrying meat ascends to the mountain peak,
A deer carrying an arrow descends to the valley floor.
I, Joru, will bring this story to the attention of the brethren,
Explaining the basis of this quarrel.
Joru was mandated by the gods above
To be the one to bind the demon musk deer by oath.
But you, Drugmo of the middle world of nyens,
Unskillfully jumped the gun.
This act has denigrated the merit of the black-haired race,
Brought disgrace upon the female gender, and
Defamed the brilliance of Ling.
Now Joru is hard-pressed not to take action.
If you think my decision unfair,
Then among Kyalo Tönpa’s innermost wealth,
The golden bridle called Wishing Gem,
And the golden crupper called Wish-Fulfilling,
Are really the karmically destined possessions of the gods above.
When there is a horse race of White Ling
Don’t place them among the prizes, but give them to me.
If you do, then Joru will shut his mouth.
You, Drugmo, keep this in mind.
Thus he sang, and Drugmo thought that, no matter what, there was no choice but to offer the golden bridle, so she promised she would present it to him.
After that, they departed for Ling. As soon as Joru mounted Drugmo’s mule (or horse), he whipped it once or twice with the white willow staff, Jangkar Berka,74 and, like an arrow shot by a skilled archer, he crossed the mountain pass Lha-lam Gongma [Upper Divine Path] of Ma Kali [White Ma]. Even though Drugmo ran as fast as she could, she couldn’t keep up with him. When she reached the top of the mountain pass, looking down, she saw Joru’s severed head. Terrified and utterly bereft, she started down the mountain, weeping, and overcome with misery. There she saw Joru’s severed right arm with the sleeve still stuck to it and, a little farther down, was his right leg with the shoe still on. His inner organs and guts were strewn everywhere. The horse (previously called a mule) Dromug was standing there, steaming in its own sweat, with Joru’s other severed foot and leg still in the stirrup. Drugmo gathered all the pieces of his scattered body. His two eyes were bulging from his head. Saying, “Turn back the dead eyes that look upon the living,” she threw ashes on the face, hiding it from view.75 So that no one would walk over his corpse, she pilled many white stones upon it, stating, “Now I’m definitely not going back to my homeland of Ling. I don’t want to suffer, since no one with a body can avoid death, but I failed in my responsibility to bring Joru, the younger brother of the Bumpa, back alive. If I, Drugmo, am not there, then the Lesser Lineage will be happy, and it will be easier for my parents as well.” Thinking that she should go jump into the poisonous lake Beri, she left riding Dromug.
When she reached the shore of the poisonous lake, she thought to herself, “Now, there’s no reason to take my own life as though I were truly insane, but instead I should supplicate my personal deity and transfer my consciousness and that of Joru together to the pure lands. It’s best to throw this illusory material body into the lake.” So she covered her head with her nomadic hooded cape and called on all the deities for help, while she sang this song:
It is Ala Ala Ala.
Thala is the melody of the song.
From the tip of the central energy avadhūti,a
Dharmakāya Great Vajradhara, know me.
From the tip of the lalana channel,b
Sambhogakāya Avalokiteśvara, know me.
From the tip of the rasana channel,c
Nirmanakāya Padmasambhava, know me.
From the sun and moon seat on the crown of my head,
Kind and gracious root guru, know me.
From the tent of light in the space in front,
Buddha Amitābha, know me.
In the ocean of suffering of saṃsāra,
If one can abandon confused appearances there will be bliss and well-being.
Well-being and suffering rely upon each other.
By working to attain happiness and well-being,
One will succeed in producing a harvest of suffering;
It’s hard to acco
mplish the purpose of one’s goals.
It is said that the essence of saṃsāra is suffering;
If so, then they have reaped the essence.
Happiness and suffering are like ripples on the water.
This material body is like a narrow valley;
If too many things come its way, something’s going to give.
It’s hard to put up with this for too long.
Well, then, since Joru has died,
Why should I regret my death?
I’ll go to join the assembly of pure deities.
They say that saṃsāra is impermanent.
Merely saying that does not make it true.
Delighting in the objects of desire
Brings pleasure to the five sense faculties.
It is said that death is suffering.
Merely saying that does not make it true.
A guru steeped in practice will take joy in death,
A prisoner of great crimes takes joy in death,
A person maddened by demons takes joy in death,
Parents with a burden of great suffering take joy in death.
If you have whatever makes you happy, you have well-being, and
If that sense of well-being pervades your mind,
Then unhappiness is just an acquired label.
That’s why Drugmo now takes joy in death.
May the unobstructed emptiness and luminosity of my mind
Mingle inseparably with the mind of Joru.
Unsullied by the confusion of hope and fear,
May we mingle as one taste in the expanse of the dharmakāya.
This karmic illusory material body
Came about from the three poisons,
And now it will be thrown back into the middle of the lake of poison.
May all the buddhas and bodhisattvas
Come to lead Joru to the pure land,
And Drugmo’s view will push from behind;
Through this may Joru achieve the immutable state.
Through this deed that discerns saṃsāra from nirvāṇa,
Into the mental bardo body of further confusion
This girl will definitely not go.
If this girl can accomplish these words of truth,
May Dromug go back to Ling, and
May my parents have no suffering.
Thus she sang, and kicked her horse with the stirrups to ride forward, but she felt as if somebody was restraining the horse, and when she looked back to see, there was Joru, pulling the tail of her horse, Dromug. When Drugmo saw that, she was overwhelmed with shame and burst into tears as well as uncontrollable laughter that cleared away the pain. She dismounted, and Gesar said to her, “Hey, Kyalo Sengcham girl, the worldly proverb says:
Cloyed by happiness like a buck howling in the wilderness,
Cloyed by suffering like an owl laughing in the darkness,
Cloyed by a full stomach like a wolf still crying for meat.
You are too beautiful; your father, Kyalo, too rich; and the brethren cherish you too much. Is this the suffering that makes you want to throw yourself in the lake? That may be true, but I, Joru, didn’t die when you crushed me under those rocks. Why do you need to do Transference of Consciousness [phowa] for the living? From your own lips you said, ‘I am happy to die,’ but you must be afraid of death because you closed your eyes. You’re afraid of being wounded, because you covered your head. You’re afraid of getting wet, so you came riding the horse. What were you really thinking? Although you said you’re not going to the bardo, does closing your eyes and covering your head stop you from entering the bardo? I’m going to tell my brother Gyatsha and all of White Ling what you’ve done. The renown of your beauty and the sweetness of your sweet voice have covered the earth, but the greater notoriety of your mind has been unknown until now.”
Then Drugmo said, “Dear divine child Joru, I thought you were dead and, filled with fear, I experienced immeasurable sorrow. I had no idea you were displaying your magical powers. Torture me no further, and please come with me to Ling. If you tell these stories to others, what will it matter? It is no more than what the proverb says:
A person with a busy mind who leaves home,
Will return with many kinds of stories.
If you use a diseased head as a prosperity support,
Then the contagion itself will be unceasing.76
So, please don’t say those things,” she said.
Then Joru responded to her by singing this playful song:
It is Ala Ala Ala.
Thala is the melody of the song.
I supplicate the Three Jewels of Refuge.
This place is the inlet of the poison lake in the Be[ri] valley.
And I am the one called Gogmo’s Joru.
I’m the heart son of a thousand buddhas
And a manifestation of the three families of protectors.
I am of the lineage of the clan of Mukpo Dong.
Listen, for I have something to say.
In Lower Ma, the homeland of demons and rakśasas,
Is the place where Joru and his mother made their home.
Sometimes we stayed in a state of magical phenomena,
And other times we stayed there in a playful state.
Those are all Joru’s nature.
At that time there was no lama to perform Phowa.
If you don’t have the power to transfer your own mind,
To then think that you can transfer the mind of another is a sign of delusion.
Your father, mother, and the brethren, who are so doting;
Your good family, youthful beauty, and wealth, these three;
Your golden jewelry, your zi garland, and your silken garments, these three; and
The gods, protectors, and Joru who play with you—
The twelve great sufferings, as you call them—
Throwing your own life away in the waters
You say is the best of all happiness.
Girl, it seems that you are really full of wisdom.
The way you take even my playfulness as real
Shows clearly just how far your view goes.
Intending to end your life in the lake,
Indicates that your meditation has reached the immutable ground.
That you covered your head with your hood
Seems to indicate how you distinguish saṃsāra from nirvāṇa through your conduct.
Your prayer for Dromug to return to Ling
Seems to indicate that you have severed all attachment.
The way you crushed me under stones before I was dead
And threw ashes in my living eyes
Really shows your pure intentions for Ling.
Whatever you said were words of truth indeed;
So the whole truth will be told to upper White Ling.
First, the plants on the mountain peaks,
Second the gray-haired meadows of green grass,
Third, the flower patches of the steppes;
Don’t try to stop the animals from eating, but watch and see which one they eat.
The uneaten leftovers are a bonus.
If all three are eaten, there’s nothing to regret.
Whether you win or lose is according to previous karma.
The white rack is on the head of the buck,
The musk is in the body of the deer,
The fine fur is on the mountain dog fox;
Don’t ponder which one the hunter will kill today, just watch and see.
If none of them are killed and they’re left there, all will be happy.
If all three are killed, there’s no regret.
Whether you win or lose, it’s due to previous karma.
All these mishaps are in Drugmo’s mind,
And all of the story will be in Joru’s mouth.
Both incompatible stories are in our minds.
Without keeping it secret, the story will be told as it is to Ling.
If it brings neither bene
fit nor harm, we’ll both be happy.
If we both lose, there’s no cause for remorse.
If you win or lose, it is because of your previous karma.
Isn’t that the way it is, dear Sengcham Drugmo?
If you don’t want to argue with me, then
Among Kyalo’s wealth of prosperity supports
There is a golden saddle with nine circular designs,
Which is a karmic treasure of the middle land of nyen,
Where the life-force talisman of the steed abides.
The saddle blanket marked with the nine astrological diagrams at the four corners
Is the karmic wealth of the cold-blooded nāgas of Lake Manasarovar,
And it’s the place where the white prosperity sheep’s life force abides.
Wild Kyang has not yet gained these appurtenances,
And I, Joru, have not yet gained them.
If there’s to be a horse race, there’s no way I can do without them.
If you give both of them to me,
Joru will relax and stop doing magic,
And Joru won’t speak of this, he’ll be quiet.
Sister Drugmo, keep this in mind.
Thus he sang, and Drugmo thought, “Since Joru didn’t die, everything he does must be purely a magical display. All the mishaps I’ve committed must not be told to anyone. Even if I have to steal these things to give them to him, I have no choice but to do it. Everything depends on this gift.” With that in mind, she promised Joru she would offer them to him.
From there, they both went up to Seven Sandy Passes, where Drugmo had met the Indian minister Berkar when she first arrived. Joru had sat down for a brief rest when they heard the sound of many pikas running to and fro. Suddenly there emerged a sizeable white pika wearing the very scarf Drugmo had given the minister. Then that pika offered this song to Joru:
It is Ala Ala Ala.
Thala is the melody of the song.
If you don’t recognize this place,
It’s the Seven Sandy Passes of the land of Ma.