The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa
Page 49
Now I’ve met with my Jetsun Guru.
The Cycles of the Formless Dakinis and so forth,
This genuine dharma that I have received,
Since it came due to your previous activity,
Please see if it is suitable for you,
And invest me with due praise and honor.
When he had sung this, he offered the manuals of instructions into the Jetsun’s hand. Then in order to cut through Rechungpa’s pride, the Jetsun sang this song of realization:
Rechungpa, whom I’ve raised since you were a young boy,
Don’t boast of your hardships, listen to my song.
This meaningful song, a golden strand of speech,
This pleasing melody, the secret roar:
If it seems reasonable, then keep it in your mind.
The Dharma Cycles of the Formless Dakinis
Were invested in you before by the dakinis.
But one who wants greatness for himself
Will die at the knife of evil men.
Rich people, who amass their hoard with avarice,
Are just giving wealth to their hateful enemies.
Seeking out wealth, enjoyments, and food
Is a premonition of dying of starvation.
Evil ones not taking stock of themselves
Is the deceptive means for bringing their own demise.
The amassing of slaves by leaders and officials
Is the destructive demon that brings the good land to ruin.
An evil man not respecting his wife
Is a bad omen of bringing ruin upon himself.
A dharma practitioner who can’t take his own seat
Is the ruinous tree of the teachings’ decline.
Not keeping the dakinis’ key instructions secret
Is the root of upsetting the dakinis.
Son, regarding yourself highly over these key instructions
Means you want your mind-stream to stray into corruption.
Saying lots about dharma with empty words
Means you want to put a stop to your good meditation experience.
Boasting so much about what you did
Means you want to waver over accepting your guru.
A disciple not having respect for his guru:
There is no greater regret than that.
A meditator who doesn’t remain in the mountains:
There is no greater loss than that.
Practitioners who haven’t relinquished close ones:
There is no greater ruin than that.
Scholars who have not engaged in practice:
There is no greater shame than that.
Monks who have not kept their discipline:
There is no greater shame than that.
My handsome son called Rechungpa,
If this is reasonable, then keep it in your heart.
If it’s not reasonable, then do as you please.
I’m an old man with fear of death,
So I don’t have time for lengthy chatter.
Since you’re young and you think so well of yourself,
You’ll deride, in return, the one who tells you
You are prideful, ill-mannered, and use coarse speech.
Translator Marpa who has been so kind,
Grant your blessing that this beggar exhausts the eight worldly concerns.
Thus he sang. Then he picked up Rechungpa’s manual and the agarwood staff, and with the feet of miraculous power,*3 he ran ahead. Rechungpa felt very tired and could not keep up. Running after him, he sang this song:
Father Jetsun Guru, kindly listen.
It’s impossible for the minds of son and father not to meet.
All these key instructions, this stainless speech,
I offer to you, the Father Jetsun.
The dakinis cleared up mistakes, omissions, and additions
Of these Dharma Cycles of the Formless Dakinis.
These profound and most-profound teachings were sealed by command.
Please, look upon me, O Jetsun Guru!
Furthermore, the Connection of the Long-Life Practice,
The Dakini’s Symbol of Secret Word,
The Abiding Nature of the Vajra Body,
And the Sacred Bond of Drupe Gyalmo,
These, too, I offer to the guru lord.
Further still, the Profound Protection of Signs,
The Upadesha for Healing Illness,
The Crushing Key Points of Healing Demons, and so forth,
These many upadeshas that are like refined gold,
I offer them to you, O Guru Lord.
The King of the Six Excellent Medicines
The Samaya Substances of the Dakas and Dakinis,
I’ve carried these back on my shoulder.
I offer them to return the kindness of the guru.
This staff of agarwood, supreme king of medicines,
Was invested with power by the dakinis.
It is wondrous and invaluable.
It was sent to offer as a gift in the Jetsun’s presence
By Tipupa, the Tree of Secret Mantra.
They are wonderful indeed. Please accept them,
And look upon this weary Rechungpa.
Think of me with love, and stop a while.
If you were to allow me to rest,
It would be a most supreme generosity.
To assist with the hunger and thirst of others
Is the king of all kindnesses that one could perform.
To give the wealth of kindhearted words
Is superior for the destitute.
To give excellent advice that teaches the path
Is the samaya for all dharma kings.
Thus he sang. The Jetsun listened to Rechungpa’s song as he ran. At the end of the song, he sat down and replied to him with this song of realization:
It is excellent if father and son are harmonious:
To be harmonious with all is truly king,
And to be harmonious with your father is king of kings.
To be discordant with everyone is a bad portent;
To be discordant with your father is a portent of demons.
For good conduct, harmony with your father is excellent.
One should repay one’s mothers’ kindness.
Conduct that’s harmonious with people is comely.
By pleasing your dharma friends, your wishes are fulfilled.
By pleasing your guru, blessings will come.
By regarding yourself humbly, you perform self-benefit.
A practitioner is one who relinquishes his bad attitude.
If you honor others’ disparagement, that is loving-kindness.
If you maintain humility, you will gain renown.
If you are without hypocrisy, your samaya is pure.
If you spend time with noble ones, the qualities develop.
If you have few concepts, malicious gossip is blocked.
If you have great bodhichitta, excellence comes.
These are the things that the learned ones do.
A fool doesn’t distinguish friend from foe.
These Dharma Cycles of the Formless Dakinis,
In terms of my path, neither help nor hurt.
As to Tipupa, Tree of Secret Mantra,
My connection with him is more profound than yours.
Of the dharma of Machik Drupé Gyalmo,
There is no better disciple than me.
The Secret Words of Mamos and Dakinis
Were entrusted to me; whom else would they teach?
In the Golden Mandala of the Woods and Fields*4
I’ve feasted in many a ganachakra.
As to the yidam Vajrayogini,
I’ve been with her longer than I have with you.
Of the pure fields of the dakas and dakinis,
There is not one with which I am separate.
I have more concern than you
Toward whatever it is that you do.
Son, don’t be bo
und by arrogant fame-seeking.
Go and meditate in solitary retreats!
Thus he sang. Then the master and his disciple walked on together. This is the first part of the cycle of the Yak’s Horn, “The Meeting.”
When the Jetsun and his son were on the road, Rechungpa thought, “If it had been another guru, upon my return from India, I would have received a cheerful and warm welcome. But since my guru lives with such conditions and clothing as he does, how could I expect such a welcome from him? I spent time in India and learned all of these teachings of the Secret Mantra; attaining enlightenment through austerities and hardship will not do. I should be able to meditate and practice with desirable objects.” Thus he ruminated with great pride and gave rise to negative thoughts and views about the Jetsun, of which the Jetsun was aware.
Along the path, there was a yak’s horn, and the Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, pick up that yak’s horn and bring it along.”
At that, Rechungpa thought, “My guru sometimes says completely useless things. Sometimes he gets angry like an old dog, and sometimes he has desire like an old man, just as the old saying goes. What use is this yak’s horn?” Then he said to the Jetsun, “It’s useless for eating, and it’s useless for drinking. We should just leave it.”
“We won’t become fettered by such an object and there will come a time when it will be useful.” Then the Jetsun took hold of it himself.
Over the center of the great field of Palmo Paltang, there was no hiding place even big enough for a small mouse. Where the sky had been clear, dark clouds began to gather. Then hail, brought in by a fierce wind, began to fall. Without having the chance to look at his guru, Rechungpa covered his head and sat down. When the hail began to slow a bit, Rechungpa searched for the guru but couldn’t find him, so he sat and waited for a while. Then, Rechungpa heard the Jetsun’s voice coming from within the yak’s horn that was resting upon a raised piece of ground. He went over to it, and thought, “This is the same horn that the Jetsun was holding before.” He went to pick it up, but he wasn’t able to move it. There it stayed, stuck to the ground. Rechungpa looked inside, and without the yak’s horn getting larger, or the Jetsun’s body becoming smaller, there the Jetsun sat right within the opening of the yak’s horn, like the image of a mirror and with a quality of expansiveness. Then the Jetsun sang this song of realization to Rechungpa:
The lord guru’s blessings have entered my body:
I’m not a meditator who sits in ordinary form.
Circumambulate and prostrate to
This display of miraculous body, Rechungpa!
The guru’s blessings have entered my speech:
I’m not a meditator who speaks idle chatter.
I have a treasury of songs with key instructions;
Keep their meaning in your mind, Rechungpa!
The guru’s blessings have entered my mind:
I’m not a meditator for whom wrong notions arise.
For the higher perceptions—the manifestation of awareness—
Have devotion and respect, Rechungpa!
My son Rechungpa’s view is like a vulture, the king of birds:
Sometimes it’s high, and sometimes it’s low.
Between high and low, stop and think!
Don’t be so hurried, my cloth-clad attendant!
If the son is equal to the father, then come inside this yak’s horn.
A comfortable and spacious house is inside this yak’s horn.
Rechungpa’s meditation is like the sun and moon:
Sometimes they shine brightly, and sometimes they’re clouded.
Between bright and obscured, stop and think!
Don’t be so hurried, my cloth-clad attendant!
If the son is equal to the father, then come inside this yak’s horn.
A comfortable and spacious house is inside this yak’s horn.
My son Rechungpa’s conduct is like the wind:
Sometimes it’s calm and sometimes it’s rushing.
Between calm and rushing, stop and think!
Don’t be so hurried, my cloth-clad attendant!
If the son is equal to the father, then come inside this yak’s horn.
A comfortable and spacious house is inside this yak’s horn.
My son Rechungpa’s fruition is like a field’s harvest:
Sometimes it’s excellent and sometimes it’s blighted.
Between excellent and blighted, stop and think!
Don’t be so hurried, my cloth-clad attendant!
If the son is equal to the father, then come inside this yak’s horn.
A comfortable and spacious house is inside this yak’s horn.
For the mind that’s plagued by minor adverse conditions,*5
This yak’s horn guesthouse is delightful—an excellent place.
Son, your father beckons you to come!
Son, it’s improper not to come to your father’s home.
I’m an old man, I’m long in the tooth.
I’ve never gone to the land of India.
Thus I’m of little importance, and I’m in these cramped quarters.
Son, Rechungpa, your body is young.
You’ve gone to India and served many scholars and siddhas.
You’ve become important, so step into these wide, open quarters.
Inside this yak’s horn where it’s dry,
There is no clinging to ego or to things as real.
So, Rechungpa, come inside this yak’s horn!
Thus he sang. Rechungpa thought to himself, “Will I be able to fit inside?” Then he tried to enter the horn, but not even his head or hand would fit. Rechungpa thought, “The Jetsun’s power may be real, or it may not be. But I do know the hail was real.” Then trembling as he wept, he put his mouth up to the horn and offered this melody:
Father Guru, Jetsun, please listen:
This lineage servant, Rechung Dorje Drak,
His view, meditation, conduct, and fruition
Are not high or low, clear or obscured, calm or hurried,
Nor are they good or bad: they are right in their own place.
Whether my cotton cloth is wet or dry, I supplicate you!
Whether I match my father or not, I supplicate you!
Thus he sang. Then the Jetsun came out from the yak’s horn and gazed into the sky. The wind settled, the clouds dissipated, and the warm sun shone down, drying Rechungpa’s cloth garment. While sitting for a moment, the Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, your power is fine as it is. I knew that you did not need to go to India. Since I am satisfied with the teachings of Mahamudra and the Six Dharmas of Naropa, I never went to India. That you have now gone to India and received this other dharma that was wished for is excellent.”
Rechungpa said, “Lama, now I am hungry and cold; please let us go over to that tent to beg for alms.”
“Now is not the time for begging for alms.”
“I am famished right now. Please, we must go over.”
“Okay, very well, we’ll go ahead. In the first big tent there, there are two or three people with whom we have tendrel, we can go up there to beg first.”
Rechungpa replied, “They beat people who beg for alms; don’t be too eager for the big tents. The people in the smaller tents won’t deride us. We should go over here to the smaller tents in the camp first.”
Then they went to the door of the small yellow tent and announced that they were seeking alms.
A frightful old woman from inside came to the door. “It’s probably easy for you yogis to come begging here day and night, but it’s difficult for us. It’s not okay for you to come saying you want something to eat. The person whom you ask needs food, too.127 I have already given what I had to other beggars this morning, so I have nothing. Go beg from someone else!” she said with contempt.
The Jetsun said, “In the evening there is nothing to be eaten. Since the sun is about to set, we should go somewhere to sleep.” Then they went and slept on the other side of the camp. In the midd
le of the night there was a clamor that came from the tents and went on for some time. Toward the end of the night, the noise stopped, and then the sun rose.
The Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, look at the tents.”
Looking, Rechungpa replied, “That old lady last night who wouldn’t give us alms isn’t there at all.”
Milarepa said, “Well, let’s go over there. There are things to eat and things to do.”
The master and disciple went over to the tents, where they saw that the old woman had passed away; she had died because of speaking harshly to a holy man. The people from the other tents had taken her money. For food, there was a small bag full of soft butter and tsampa and a bucket full of yogurt that was fermenting.
The Jetsun said, “Son, Rechungpa, all phenomena are like this. Last night, we felt we missed out at not getting any of this. Today, it has been left behind for us both. I’d like some food, hand me some.” Then the master and disciple took the deceased woman’s things and offered them as substances in a ganachakra. The edible leftovers Rechungpa packed up, and they prepared to leave.
The Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, it is not good to take food from a corpse without doing something beneficial for it. There is a worldly proverb that says, ‘The old people eat the food, and the young people do the work.’ Therefore, you carry the corpse, and I will lead it.”
Then Rechungpa, disrespectfully stepping on Milarepa’s shadow, carried the old woman’s body as the Jetsun led. Coming to a meadow, Milarepa said, “Now, put the corpse over here.” Touching his staff to the corpse’s heart center he said, “Rechungpa, all beings, like this, will die. But those who do not think that it will happen to them miss the opportunity to practice the genuine dharma. We both should also be very vigilant and aware of this.” Then he sang this song of realization on the six examples of illusion and impermanence:
The guru’s kindness is beyond comprehension!
When the understanding of impermanence arises in your mind-stream,
All activities become dharma practice.
By remembering death again and again,
You are victorious over the demon of laziness.
As in the case of this woman last night,