The Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa
Page 50
The time of death cannot be known.
Rechungpa, don’t let your mind-stream be hardened:
Listen to your guru!
Look there at objects appearing outside:
Appearances are impermanent, like last night’s dream.
Remembering that dream, confusion makes me uneasy.
Have you cut the root of confusion, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
This scarecrow of a body that yearns for pleasure,
Everything done to please it is the cause of suffering.
This body is just a bag of filth,
So don’t think so highly of yourself; listen to my song!
Look here at your own body:
It’s impermanent like a city of gandharvas.
Its growth and decay make me uneasy.
Have you cut through birth and death, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
A malicious-minded person has no chance for happiness.
Frenzied thinking is the basis for disputes.
Your bad disposition comes from yourself.
Don’t be so eager to realize mind; listen to this song!
Look at the perceiving mind inside:
It’s impermanent like a little bird in the trees.
It doesn’t stay where you put it; that makes me uneasy.
Have you achieved stability of mind, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
Inside, the life-force prana is as fragile as a single horsehair:
It is uncertain, about to break,
Just like the life-force of this old woman last night.
Don’t be attached to this life; listen to my song!
Look back at the breath moving inside.
Breath is impermanent, like mist in the sky.
The mist dissolves and goes; that makes me uneasy.
Have you discerned the natural purity of movement, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
Keep company with an evil brood and you’ll develop hatred.
Friends of evil ones say negative things,
Like the old lady householder. Did it do her any good?
Son, don’t invest your hopes there; listen to my song!
Look at your circle of friends:
Friendships are impermanent, like guests at a gathering.
Having gathered, they will certainly part; this makes me uneasy.
Have you set your relations aside, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
An estate-holder won’t consume all the wealth he’s amassed;
This is the way of karmic existence.
Accumulating wealth through avarice
Is like this old woman and her bag of food.
Don’t have great attachment; listen to my song!
Look here at wealth that you have amassed.
Wealth is impermanent, like the bees’ honey.
Your food eaten by others, this makes me uneasy.
Have you opened mind’s treasure, Rechungpa?
When I think of this, I remember the sublime dharma.
Thus he sang. They finished the work of handling the old lady’s bones, and her consciousness was led into the dharmadhatu. Then they took the edible food and went to Betse Döyön Fortress.
This is the second part of the cycle of the Yak’s Horn, the main section.
Later, when the father Jetsun and his son were staying at Betse, Rechungpa’s understanding expanded. While in this state of joy, he had a variety of different thoughts. The Jetsun, knowing this, at one point said to Rechungpa, “What kind of experience has arisen for you?” Then Rechungpa sang this song of realization to the Jetsun, “How Experience Arose”:
While staying in my guru’s presence,
An experience like a sharp weapon dawned.
Outer and inner imputations were cut—what a delight!
While sitting in the midst of many people,
An experience like a butter lamp dawned.
The key instructions became clear for others—what a delight!
While staying on the snowy white peaks,
An experience like a white snow lion dawned.
It overpowered other appearances—what a delight!
While staying on the side of Red Rock,
An experience like a vulture, the king of birds, dawned.
I’ve shattered all confines—what a delight!
While wandering without bias throughout the land,
An experience like the striped bee128 dawned.
I have no attachment to contact—what a delight!
While I was sitting within samsara,
An experience like a lotus flower dawned.
Worldly faults don’t stain me—what a delight!
While sitting in the midst of the mundane world,
An experience like white quicksilver dawned.
Not sullied by its contact—what a delight!
When staying in villages of faithful students,
An experience like the Jetsun Mila dawned.
I sang melodious instructions—what a delight!
This delightful feeling is the guru’s kindness.
This uncontrived mind abides as buddha.
Thus he sang. Then the Jetsun said, “If these experiences aren’t flawed with pride, then you have understood the guru’s kindness, which is truly marvelous. You must have this kind of view toward those experiences; however, it seems you do not have it.” Then he sang this song of realization:
When compassion arises from deep within my heart,
I see that sentient beings of the three realms of samsara
Are like they’ve entered into a pit of fire.
The symbolic whispered lineage’s
Key instructions that I hold within my heart
Are like salt that dissolves within water.
When wisdom dawns from within,
The string of doubts over whether “this is it” or not
Is like dreaming when meditating; waking up is postmeditation.
When great bliss is seized through the view,
All phenomena that appear like this
Are self-liberated like bubbles in water.
When the character of knowable things is understood,
This wisdom that’s aware of the abiding nature
Is like the sky that is freed of clouds.
When the silt of movement is settled and the mind is clear,
This wisdom of awareness that’s self-arisen
Is like a white silver mirror that’s been wiped clean.
When the all-base has dissolved into dharmakaya,
These skandhas that have taken rebirth through craving
Are like an egg that’s crushed with the stomp of a foot.
When the rope of clinging has been cut,
The threshold of the bardo of becoming
Is like a snake tied in a knot that comes untied.
When the adopting and rejecting of conduct is freed,
The mind that abides free of activity
Is like a lion that’s perfected the three powers.
Clear appearance, clear emptiness, and clear wisdom:
When one has these three kinds of clarity,
It’s like the shining sun in a cloudless sky!
The senses and their objects are divided like horses and yaks.
The bonds of the mind and skandhas are cut.
I’ve fully utilized this precious human birth,
And this yogi has completed all that is to be done.
Son, do you have anything like this?
Don’t have such great pride, Rechungpa!
Thus he sang. It is said that Rechungpa then gave rise to a wrong motivation. The Jetsun said, “Now, let us, father and son, go to meditate in an empty land with no people such as Lachi or Tisé.”
Rechu
ngpa said, “My body is weary. If I cannot go to a temple in a nearby village to stay and be refreshed, I will not be able to travel and meditate.”
The Jetsun replied, “If you are really practicing dharma with your whole heart, then acting like this will suffice.” Then he sang this song on eight things that suffice:
Son, your own body as a monastery will suffice:
The vital points of the body are the deities’ palace.
Your own mind as the guru will suffice:
Certainty is the supreme noble being.
Outer objects as your texts will suffice:
Such variety of appearances are the path of liberation’s symbols.
Samadhi as your food will suffice:
Shamatha is the birthright of the deity.
To wear chandali as your clothing will suffice:
Its blissful heat is the dakinis’ garment.
To cut your ties with friends will suffice:
Solitude is the divine master of feasts.
To turn away from your enemies will suffice:
Enemies are just passersby on the road.
For obstacles, to meditate on emptiness will suffice:
They are just the variety of mind’s magical display.
If you want to do it right, then do it like this.
If you don’t, then you will go down the wrong path.
I’m an old man who is concerned about death;
I don’t have the leisure to chat on with you.
You’re young, with vital heart, blood, and flesh;
Though my advice would be helpful, you won’t give it any heed.
To one with the mistaken view of self-regard,
Speaking straightforwardly is just a waste.
If you’ll meditate, then come and follow me.
If not, then you can just do what you want.
Singing this, the Jetsun got ready to depart. Then Rechungpa grabbed the Jetsun’s clothes, and sang this song in reply on the eight insufficiencies:
Though the body will suffice as the monastery,
I must have a bed with a roof overhead
Or else rain, wind, and enemies will harm me.
This is one thing that is insufficient.
Though the mind will suffice as the guru,
I must have a guru who will give pointing-out.
If there’s no one to supplicate, there’s nothing to be done.
This is another thing that is insufficient.
Though sensory objects will suffice for texts,
Obstacles and doubts will come up anywhere.
Without manuals to make things clear, there’s nothing to be done.
This is another thing that is insufficient.
Though samadhi will suffice for food,
The body must have some nourishment.
This illusory body relies on food.
This too is something that is insufficient.
Though chandali suffices for clothing,
One needs to hide one’s shame wherever one goes.129
Everyone is concerned for their modesty.
This is another thing that is insufficient.
Though it’s best to cut one’s ties to friends,
One needs friendly relations wherever one goes.
Whether good or bad, everyone has friends.
This is another thing that is insufficient.
Though avoiding one’s enemies suffices,
Evil ones are always met on the path.
Hostile enemies could arise anywhere.
This is another thing that is insufficient.
Though for obstacles, to meditate on emptiness is sufficient,
Spirits and hungry ghosts have malevolent intentions.
It’s difficult to tame the demon of clinging to an “I.”
This is another thing that is insufficient.
When you stay with the guru and are harmonious,
Then whatever he does will be pleasant.
But please, come to where I wish.
I ask you, please come to the town for while.
Thus he sang. The Jetsun said, “Very well, if I come, the way in which I go will be fine. But if I do not come, the way in which you will go will not be fine. If you absolutely will not go into the mountains where there are no other people, then let us go for a while to Poto to teach the dharma.” Then the master and his disciple went to Poto Red Rock.
This is the last part of the cycle of the Yak’s Horn.
*1 Samsara and nirvana are not something separate from the mind.
*2 Because of the many tantric teachings he held, “Tree of Secret Mantra” (gsang sngags sdong po) is another name for Tipupa given to him by Naropa (Thrangu 2001: 7).
*3 The feet of miraculous power (T: rdzu ’phrul gyi zhabs) is an ability attained through yogic practice in which one can run at a supernormal speed.
*4 The Golden Mandala of the Woods and Fields (T: shing spang gser gyi mandal) is the name of the place in India where Rechungpa met Machik Drupé Gyalmo (Shabkar 1994: 153).
*5 Milarepa is most likely referring to the hail that has made Rechungpa wet and cold. (TN)
39
Song of the Wild Asses
NAMO GURU
The father Jetsun Milarepa and his son went to Poto. On the way, as they approached Drin, Rechungpa said, “Tonight, I will stay here. I will meet with the benefactors of Drin.”
The Jetsun replied, “Son, first let us go together to Poto, just father and son, without the knowledge of the other monks, disciple-sons, or benefactors.”
At this, Rechungpa grudgingly went, and the father and son arrived together at the Kyipuk Nyima Fortress at Poto Red Rock.
Then the Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, you go and fetch some water; I will build a fire.” Rechungpa went to get the water. When he had obtained it, he arrived upon a slope, in the center of the vast, spacious, and beautiful field between Poto and Kyipuk Cave. There, a wild ass was giving birth to her foal. Then to each of those, the mother and child wild asses, again, was born another foal. Then again to each of those, another foal was born. This gradually continued until there were a hundred wild asses and a hundred young foals, all of them playing there.
“These wild asses are more wonderful than those of Paltang,” Rechungpa thought, and stood there for a while distracted by the show.
Meanwhile, when the Jetsun had built the fire, he opened up Rechungpa’s manuals. Within a state of great compassion, he said with words of truth, “The Dharma Cycles of the Formless Dakinis, and so forth, that I have sent to be searched for in India, I pray that the dakinis hold and protect within space these teachings and things that are beneficial for sentient beings. And the black mantra of the tirthikas, and so forth, may the dharmapalas set aside such teachings and that which will be harmful to sentient beings.” Then he sat reflecting for a short while, and in the fire, he burned all but a few special scrolls.
Back in Rechungpa’s vision, one of the more powerful wild asses became a wolf and chased all of the other wild asses over the pass. Then Rechungpa nervously thought, “Oh, I’ve been distracted; if I don’t get back quickly, the Jetsun will scold me,” and so he hurried back.
When he reached the high suspension bridge,130 he could smell the smoke from the burning paper, and thought, “Is that my texts that are burning?” Then he approached and saw all of the manual covers lying there, flat and empty. His heart felt like it would pop out of his chest131 and in a state of deep vexation, he asked, “Where have my texts gone?”
The Jetsun replied, “You took so long to fetch the water, I thought that you had died. Thinking you were dead, I had no use for them; they would just be a distraction from virtuous activity. So I burned all of these useless texts. What took you so long?”
Then Rechungpa, with the same pride as before, thought, “My guru has such anger and attachment that he would dare to do something like this to me. Maybe I should go back to be in the presence of Tipupa, or else go to another land.” With his faith co
mpletely lost, Rechungpa remained there silent for a while. Then, he said, “Because I stayed and watched the show of the hundred wild asses and foals, I suffered a loss. Going to India with the gold that the Jetsun gave to me himself, and disregarding the fatigue of my own three gates, all of that was completely meaningless. I will go to another land.” Thus he displayed many airs and expressions of having lost his faith.
Then the Jetsun said, “Rechungpa, my son, you don’t have to lose your faith. This is the result you have reaped from your own distraction at the show. Son, if you like shows, then I will give you a show to watch. Now look!”
Then, on the crown of the Jetsun’s head appeared a precious throne, with a lotus and a sun and moon disc seat. On the top of that sat the translator Marpa himself, completely inseparable from Vajradhara surrounded by the lineage gurus. On either side of Milarepa’s eyes and ears shone the sun and moon. From his two nostrils came light rays, like strands of yarn, radiating with the five colors. From between his eyebrows was a circlet of hair from which various light rays radiated. On his tongue was an eight-petaled lotus on which sat a sun and moon disc seat. On top of this were all of the Sanskrit letters,132 made of light, fine as though written with a split hair, circling and radiating light rays. In his heart center was a knot of auspiciousness from which light rays radiated. Emanating all of this, Milarepa sang this song of realization:
Listen now, my son Rechungpa:
There, upon the crown of my head,
Is a jeweled throne, hoisted by lions.
Upon the seat of a lotus, sun, and moon,
Sits Marpa Lotsawa, so kind, not separate from Vajradhara.
All of the other lineage gurus
Surround him like a string of pearls.