I am very much influenced by the writing of the Sufi saints of the Middle East and Iran. I developed a love for Islamic architecture, writing and religious practice when I co-wrote 'istanbul to Cairo on the cheap' for Lonely Planet Publications.
When I first read the words of Idries Shah I sought to learn as much as I could about the role of the Sufi in western mysticism. Most people know 'The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam', Ravel's 'Bolero', whirling dervishes, and assassins. This is just the start of a journey into deeper Sufi mysticism. This is a vast subject and I will attempt to add more information as I post my illustrations.
At present I am editing my version of the 'Book of the Book' - it will be published by this means in due course. A wise Sufi would probably say it will never happen... and therefore it happened, never!
For more on the life of a struggling poet and painter in recovery CLICK '> inanga >' at top left.
"The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice
Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute."
- Rubaiyat of Omar Khay'yam, XLIII
inanga
When I first read the words of Idries Shah I sought to learn as much as I could about the role of the Sufi in western mysticism. Most people know 'The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam', Ravel's 'Bolero', whirling dervishes, and assassins. This is just the start of a journey into deeper Sufi mysticism. This is a vast subject and I will attempt to add more information as I post my illustrations.
At present I am editing my version of the 'Book of the Book' - it will be published by this means in due course. A wise Sufi would probably say it will never happen... and therefore it happened, never!
For more on the life of a struggling poet and painter in recovery CLICK '> inanga >' at top left.
"The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice
Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute."
- Rubaiyat of Omar Khay'yam, XLIII
inanga
![CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula](http://inanga.smugmug.com/Spirituality/Sufi-Magic/i-57f9J5m/0/Ti/last%20karakia-Ti.jpg "CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula")
![Crescent and Star
Wikipedia is such a good tool. I am sitting here thinking about the history of the Ratana movement in New Zealand, and I am surprised by how little I know so I Google. Anyone with access to a computer should Google….(As I write this Google comes up as a misspelling of the word ‘Goggle’on my writing computer, and yet I am at this instant joining millions of people on line on the other computer. Spider Grandmother has woven her web worldwide; it was prophesised by Masa’wu of the Hopi.
Wiki definition is as follows:
‘The Ratana movement is a Maori religion and pan-tribal political movement founded by Tahupotiki Wiremu Ratana in early 20th century New Zealand. The Ratana Church has its headquarters at the settlement of Ratana, near Wanganui.’
[Ed note: near Raetahi and Ohakune, south of Mount Ruapehu.]
OK I am finding that it is not good to put faith completely in Wikipedia, but finding it a useful artists’ tool. Ratana was called the Maori Miracle Man, his church Te Haahi Ratana, and the founder acknowledged as Te Mangai (the mouthpiece). All this is from Wikipedia. I wish Wikipedia could pick up a brush.
The background of a stylized Mount Ruapehu was laid down and then the church and its simple fence. As much as I wanted to paint it as I had seen it, it wouldn’t let me. It constructed itself with thick, white unswirled paint. I cut the crescent and star that adorn each turret from a photograph, because that was what the situation demanded. I have painted it in Arabic stylized characters before (see To My God), and marvelled that God had provided the same iconic symbol to two churches at opposite ends of the Earth.
The frame has no glass and this is deliberate, as the spirit of the church is felt not seen.
Acrylic, oil, crescent and star collage on canvas board (framed by the artist), 2008](http://inanga.smugmug.com/Spirituality/Sufi-Magic/i-RMxpPB5/0/Ti/DSCF1551-Ti.jpg "Crescent and Star
Wikipedia is such a good tool. I am sitting here thinking about the history of the Ratana movement in New Zealand, and I am surprised by how little I know so I Google. Anyone with access to a computer should Google….(As I write this Google comes up as a misspelling of the word ‘Goggle’on my writing computer, and yet I am at this instant joining millions of people on line on the other computer. Spider Grandmother has woven her web worldwide; it was prophesised by Masa’wu of the Hopi.
Wiki definition is as follows:
‘The Ratana movement is a Maori religion and pan-tribal political movement founded by Tahupotiki Wiremu Ratana in early 20th century New Zealand. The Ratana Church has its headquarters at the settlement of Ratana, near Wanganui.’
[Ed note: near Raetahi and Ohakune, south of Mount Ruapehu.]
OK I am finding that it is not good to put faith completely in Wikipedia, but finding it a useful artists’ tool. Ratana was called the Maori Miracle Man, his church Te Haahi Ratana, and the founder acknowledged as Te Mangai (the mouthpiece). All this is from Wikipedia. I wish Wikipedia could pick up a brush.
The background of a stylized Mount Ruapehu was laid down and then the church and its simple fence. As much as I wanted to paint it as I had seen it, it wouldn’t let me. It constructed itself with thick, white unswirled paint. I cut the crescent and star that adorn each turret from a photograph, because that was what the situation demanded. I have painted it in Arabic stylized characters before (see To My God), and marvelled that God had provided the same iconic symbol to two churches at opposite ends of the Earth.
The frame has no glass and this is deliberate, as the spirit of the church is felt not seen.
Acrylic, oil, crescent and star collage on canvas board (framed by the artist), 2008")
![Sufi Magic, Raetihi, Whai Repo
detail from 'Sufi Magic'
see the original in Aotearoa I gallery in hogproductions
'In an instant, rise from time and space. Set the world aside and become a world within yourself.'
Shabistri, 'the [original] Secret Garden'.
According to the so-called 'Copenhagen Interpretation' of quantum mechanics, the wave function just collapses and that is that...end of story. In 1957 Hugh Everett, a student of Bryce de Witt proposed a new 'many-worlds' interpretation of quantum mechanics in which the wave function never collapses when a measurement of it is made. Instead, what happens is that the universe instantly fragments into a bundle of alternate histories each time the quantum state of any particle in the universe changes via interaction. For example, when one system interacts with another, there will be a history in which the outcome of the interaction was one state configuration of the object and the 'detector', and all the other possible outcomes would also be present in the universes that were spawned at the instant of the interaction. If there were two possible spin orientations for an electron I was studying, and I measured that the spin was 'up', there will be a universe spawned by this interaction where the electron spin was 'down', which continues to evolve in some parallel sense to our universe, but somehow totally unobservable by us in this universe.
Internet article by Dr Sten Odenwald, 'What is the Everett-Wheeler Theory of quantum mechanics?' 1997, from Michael Clive Price's THE EVERETT FAQ](http://inanga.smugmug.com/Spirituality/Sufi-Magic/i-TVrWTGp/0/Ti/DSCF2442-Ti.jpg "Sufi Magic, Raetihi, Whai Repo
detail from 'Sufi Magic'
see the original in Aotearoa I gallery in hogproductions
'In an instant, rise from time and space. Set the world aside and become a world within yourself.'
Shabistri, 'the [original] Secret Garden'.
According to the so-called 'Copenhagen Interpretation' of quantum mechanics, the wave function just collapses and that is that...end of story. In 1957 Hugh Everett, a student of Bryce de Witt proposed a new 'many-worlds' interpretation of quantum mechanics in which the wave function never collapses when a measurement of it is made. Instead, what happens is that the universe instantly fragments into a bundle of alternate histories each time the quantum state of any particle in the universe changes via interaction. For example, when one system interacts with another, there will be a history in which the outcome of the interaction was one state configuration of the object and the 'detector', and all the other possible outcomes would also be present in the universes that were spawned at the instant of the interaction. If there were two possible spin orientations for an electron I was studying, and I measured that the spin was 'up', there will be a universe spawned by this interaction where the electron spin was 'down', which continues to evolve in some parallel sense to our universe, but somehow totally unobservable by us in this universe.
Internet article by Dr Sten Odenwald, 'What is the Everett-Wheeler Theory of quantum mechanics?' 1997, from Michael Clive Price's THE EVERETT FAQ")
![OM-42 (Ancient Wisdom)
preparation for the 'i' scroll before it was painted over - see Scrolls and Boxes of Wisdom in hogproductions
Sixty Songs of Milarepa
Translated by
Garma C.C. Chang
Selected and introduced by
Bhikkhu Khantipalo
Buddhist Publication Society
Kandy • Sri Lanka
The Wheel Publication No. 95 / 97
Copyright © Kandy, Buddhist Publication Society, (1980)
BPS Online Edition © (2008)
Digital Transcription Source: BPS Transcription Project
For free distribution. This work may be republished, reformatted, reprinted and redistributed in any medium. However, any such republication and redistribution is to be made available to the public on a free and unrestricted basis, and translations and other derivative works are to be clearly marked as such.
Sixty Songs of Milarepa
Jetsun Milarepa is shown sitting at ease in front of the cave at Ghadaya near the Tibet-Nepal border. Above him appears the form of his Guru, Marpa the Translator, since meditations visualizing a Buddha or the Guru above the head, are commonly practised in Tibet (see also the Jinapañjara, a Pali composition). Around him tower rocks and mountains while waterfalls cascade below. To his right sits a deer and to his left a hunting dog. Before him kneels a huntsman who has cast down his weapons as an offering to the Jetsun (see Song 14). This illustration follows the traditional iconography of Milarepa, his sitting at ease indicating that he has already experienced the state beyond striving. “Wearing cotton from Nepal” and a meditation-belt and with his hand cupped to his ear as though listening to the ’long tongue of the Dhamma’ which preaches everywhere and all the time, the great yogi prepares to instruct the erstwhile hunter.
(The picture above was kindly provided by the Venerable Dhardo Rinpoche of the Indo-Tibet Buddhist Cultural Institute, Kalimpong (W. Bengal).)
Introduction
Outside the land of Tibet where the stories and songs of Milarepa are very well-known and loved, far too little is known of this great Buddhist sage. In English, [1] French and German, biographies, partial or complete, have been published but a great number of Milarepa’s Songs have remained inaccessible, except to those reading Tibetan, until very recently. It is possible to reproduce here sixty of his songs on the Dhamma through the kind permission of the translator, Prof. C. C. Chang, and the courtesy of his publishers, University Books Inc, New York. [2]
The songs printed here all concern that Dhamma which is common to the whole Buddhist tradition. Everyone who has read some of Lord Buddha’s Discourses in the Pali Canon will find the subject matter here familiar to them. The nearest approach in Pali literature to these Dhamma-songs of Milarepa are the inspired utterances of Lord Buddha in the Sutta Nipata, Udana and Itivuttaka (and also in the Dhammapada), and the poems of gnosis spoken by the great bhikkhus and bhikkhunis of the Noble Sangha, now collected into such books as the Theragatha and Therigatha. Among the Bhikkhus living in the Buddha-time, Vangisa Thera was outstanding for his inspired utterances (see Sn 1:8; Theragatha 395). The mind inspired and illumined with the knowledge of liberation (vimutti) pours forth its wisdom with ease in the shape of verses of great beauty and deep significance. Such was the case with Lord Buddha and some of his immediate disciples, and later, such was the case with Milarepa.
His songs have been arranged here according to subject, though no rigid classification is possible since many of the songs deal with more than one aspect of the Dhamma. First come Milarepa’s descriptions of some of his hermitages, then songs on renunciation and the dangers of samsara, followed by many more on impermanence. After them come songs describing different aspects of samsara—such as the Six Realms of Birth; birth, old age, sickness and death; and home relatives and wealth. Next are songs relating to practice—advice on how to practise and warnings about what not to do; then upon the Six Paramita and other such helpful qualities for practice as loving-kindness (metta), striving (viriya) and mindfulness (sati). Last of all come songs describing aspects of Milarepa’s realization—his contentment, happiness and non-attachment—concluding with his blessings to his patrons.
It will be seen from the above sequence that the Teaching here is not at all strange to Theravada, including as it does the Impermanence (anicca) of all things, states, people, places; that they are impermanent since they arise dependent upon conditions (paccaya); that what is conditioned, and therefore relative, is also devoid of essential being (sabbe dhamma anatta) and void of self (suñña); and that by not recognizing these truths and by thinking in terms of permanence, self, etc., we come to experience unending unsatisfactoriness (dukkha). Milarepa also points out the way to transcend dukkha and emphasizes the keeping of precepts (sila), concentrating the scattered mind (samadhi) and the development of Wisdom (pañña).
In making comparisons of different Buddhist traditions many similarities are apt to come to light. One that might be mentioned here is the immense respect and honour paid to Enlightened Teachers in any Buddhist tradition, quite regardless of the differences of time and place. One who has seen and known the Way from his own experience has always been lauded as worthy of the highest honour and the greatest devotion as in Pali: ahuneyyo, pahuneyyo, dakkhineyyo, añjali-karaniyo. Indeed, we find this as much in the pages of the Pali Canon as from the Hundred Thousand Songs. It is heard as much in the exalted devotion of Pingiya (Sutta Nipata 1131 ff.) as in the paeans of praise uttered by the principle disciples of Milarepa, Rechungpa and Gambopa. It is found in modern times in seemingly diverse surroundings—whether in a jungle monastery in Thailand where a thudong (dhutanga) bhikkhu is respecting his Teacher; or whether it is Tibetan bhikkhus or laymen receiving a meditation transmission from their Lama. The same devotion here finds expression; it is called saddha or bhatti (bhakti—a word first occurring in Indian literature in the Pali Canon), for this is the act by one still unenlightened, of setting his heart upon Enlightenment in the presence of one who is Enlightened.
Then again, the Hundred Thousand Songs many times mention the “Whispered Transmission” of meditation instructions which are imparted by the Teacher, here Milarepa, to his disciples. By some this is contrasted with the statement of Lord Buddha that He was not a Teacher who had a ’closed fist’, that is, one who keeps some Teaching secret or esoteric. Nonetheless, He is well-known for his remarkable ability in preaching exactly the right Dhamma to fit the situation and meet the understanding of those who listened. He did not teach the deep truths of Dhamma to those who were not prepared as yet to receive them and in a like fashion Milarepa graded his teachings for varying circumstances and intelligences.
Meditation instructions given by Lord Buddha to his disciples were also fitted to their temperaments and abilities. It is true that one may now read books explaining the principles of meditation in Theravada Buddhism, but with books alone, even if one reads all the Pali Canon, the disadvantage remaining is very great. In all Buddhist countries, it is always assumed that one must have a Teacher if meditation practice is to be really successful. It is this Teacher who, like Lord Buddha in past times, imparts to one the details of the practice and how, moreover, it applies to one’s special problems and circumstances. As Bhadanta Nyanaponika Mahathera has written in his “Heart of Buddhist Meditation”: ’A brief statement on practical meditation, even if limited to the very first steps as is done here, cannot replace personal guidance by an experienced teacher who alone can give due consideration to the requirements and rate of progress of the individual disciple.’ This is, if not a “Whispered Transmission”, at least an Oral Instruction.
The ’grace’ of the Teacher (guru) consists of those merits which he has gathered by his own practice and which, it is believed, may be transferred to the disciple, thus ’blessing’ him. This can only happen, however, provided that the conditions (of spiritual purity, faith, concentration, etc.) exist between that master and disciple. It is a great mistake to suppose that the disciple is getting something for nothing, for in the absence of these conditions he will experience no ’help’ from the teacher.
* * * * * *
For the dramatic and very inspiring life-story of Jetsun Milarepa as written down by a great-grand-disciple in his tradition, we have but little space here. Those interested in reading it may consult the book mentioned in the footnotes above. Suffice to say here that the Jetsun was born in BE 1596 (CE 1052) into a wealthy merchant family. As a boy he was known as Tubhaga (“Delightful-to-hear”), a name which people said was particularly appropriate since he had a fine voice and frequently sang the local ballads. His voice was later to be used for spreading the Dhamma, and those who heard it were deeply moved.
Fortunately, Milarepa has given an outline of his life in one of the songs he later sang for his disciples and we cannot do better than introduce an extract of it here.
1
I am Milarepa blessed by his (Marpa’s) mercy.
My father was Mila Shirab Jhantsan,
My mother was Nyantsa Karjan.
And I was called Tubhaga (“Delightful-to-hear”).
Because our merits and virtues were of small account,
And the Cause-Effect Karma of the past spares no one,
My father Mila passed away (too early in his life).
The deceiving goods and belongings of our household
Were plundered by my aunt and uncle,
Whom I and my mother had to serve.
They gave us food fit only for the dogs;
The cold wind pierced our ragged clothing;
Our skin froze and our bodies were benumbed.
Often I was beaten by my uncle,
And endured his cruel punishment.
Hard was it to avoid my aunt’s ill temper.
I lived as best I could, a lowly servant,
And shrugged my shoulders (in bitter resignation).
Misfortunes descended one after the other;
We suffered so, our hearts despaired.
In desperation, I went to Lamas [3] Yundun and Rondunlaga,
From whom I mastered the magic arts of Tu, Ser and Ded [4] .
Witnessed by my aunt and uncle, I brought
Great disaster on their villages and kinsmen,
For which, later, I suffered deep remorse.
Then I heard the fame of Marpa, the renowned Translator,
Who, blessed by the saints Naropa and Medripa,
Was living in the upper village of the South River.
After a hard journey I arrived there.
For six years and eight months (I stayed)
With him, my gracious Father Guru, Marpa.
For him I built many houses,
One with courtyards and nine storeys;
Only after this did he accept me.
(Page numbers in the complete translation: pp. 267–8)
Then Milarepa lists the meditation-instructions which he was given by his Guru Marpa after he had thus served a long period of hard probation and tells how by their practice he reached Enlightenment (see conclusion of this Introduction).
The name by which he is known in Tibet is Jetsun Milarepa. ’Jetsun’ is an honorific meaning ’holy’, while ’Repa’ means ’clad in cotton’. Mila was a family name. Hence, in English he may be called Holy Mila the Cotton-clad. He earned the latter name by his power to live throughout the bitter Tibetan winter with only one length of cotton cloth. Where others would have died, he lived happily immersed in the various states of samadhi producing, by his control of them, sufficient body heat. After twelve years of intense meditations in remote mountain caves far from the haunts of men in the valleys below, he succeeded in winning Enlightenment. After this time, disciples gradually gathered around him, the first being Rechungpa, his ’moon-like’ disciple, while later came his ’sun-like’ disciple Gambopa. [5] His closest disciples went forth from their homes to take up homeless life with him. Gambopa and some others were already bhikkhus, while many more such as Rechungpa were called ’Repa’, that is, yogis clad in one piece of cotton.
Like Lord Buddha, the Jetsun taught Dhamma to all—to the emissary of a king and to shepherds, to nuns and wealthy ladies, to bhikkhus and yogis, to bandits and merchants. His conversion of the hunter, Chirawa Gwumbo Dorje, is as popular a story in Tibet as is the pacifying of Angulimala by Lord Buddha, in southern Buddhist lands.
At the age of eighty, Jetsun Milarepa relinquished the body, passing away surrounded by disciples both human and celestial. For 900 years the traditions of meditation in which he trained his disciples have been handed down in Tibet. It has come to be known as the Ghagyupa (sometimes seen as Kargyutpa) which is translated as the “Whispered Transmission.” This school of Buddhist practice has, of course, its own special emphasis upon certain doctrines but songs concerned with them are not included in this booklet and the interested reader is requested to consult the “Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa.”
In the time of Milarepa, as is evident from these songs, many bhikkhus spent long years in study but never gave much heed to practice. Thus is the divorce of patipatti-dhamma or sila (moral precepts) and samadhi (meditation), from pariyatti-dhamma or simply learning. Scholar-bhikkhus of Tibet were evidently, at that time, very able in arguing the finer points of Buddhist philosophy and well-equipped with logic to worst outsiders as well as fellow Buddhists in debates. Somehow, in the welter of this study (and the Tibetan Canon and its Commentaries are considerably more extensive than their lengthy Pali counterparts), the urge to practise meditation, many of its foremost exponents were masters not possessing the monk’s robes. This was true of the spiritual forebears of Milarepa (his immediate Guru, Marpa and of the Indian yogis, Naropa and Tilopa). In several places he criticizes those bhikkhus, and indeed anyone, who studies the Dhamma just for intellectual satisfaction or even for worldly advantage. Many sincere bhikkhus did approach him for meditation instructions and, thereafter, practised with him as their Teacher. He was, therefore, a source for the spiritual regeneration of the Sangha in Tibet.
With his insistence upon the practice of Dhamma, Milarepa’s life and teaching present striking similarities in many respects, to the Way as practised by the thudong (dhutanga) bhikkhu. The greatest difference is that a bhikkhu in any country is bound to observe his Fundamental Precepts (Patimokkha) which, as Milarepa did not have the bhikkhu ordination (upasampada), he did not have to keep. Nevertheless, even a quick look at his life after he began his practice would reveal that he maintained scrupulously those injunctions given him by his Teacher, Marpa the Translator, as well as cultivating those twin bases of moral conduct in the Dhamma, Wisdom and Compassion (pañña-karuna). Far greater than this are the resemblances between him and the thudong bhikkhu. For instance, both praise contentment with little, living remotely with utter detachment from worldly affairs, great ability in meditation, and so on.
Though he had not the formal ordination of a bhikkhu and wore not the monks’ robes, yet Milarepa was truly one gone forth (pabbajita). No one reading of his life and some of the songs included here can possibly doubt this. According to definitions given in the Dhammapada, he was indeed a true bhikkhu:
“Not by adopting the outward form does one become a bhikkhu” (266).
“He who has no attachment whatsoever towards the ’mind-and-body’ and who does not grieve for what he has not,—he indeed, is called a bhikkhu” (367).
“Whoso herein, has abandoned both merit and demerit, he who is holy, he who walks with understanding in this world,—he indeed, is called a bhikkhu” (267). [6]
These various points, and perhaps others, could be raised to point out that it is in the practice of Dhamma (patipatti) that different schools of Buddhist thought are shown to have many similarities. Finally, it is in realization of the Dhamma (pativedha) where all divergence ceases, since all the methods practised by all the schools are without exception aimed at the experience of Bodhi, or Enlightenment. If the Dhamma is only studied from books, then many differences are seen separating the many Buddhist traditions but in practice there is very much in common. Since all Buddhists are urged to practise their Teachings, it is through this that harmony between the divergent traditions of Dhamma may be discovered.
This little introduction may be concluded with a stanza drawn from the autobiographical song, part of which is quoted above. More than this need not be said here, for it is better that the Jetsun sings to you his inspiring and Wisdom-inspired Songs of the Dhamma.
“I renounced all affairs of this life;
And, no longer lazy, devoted myself to Dharma.
Thus I have reached the State of Eternal Bliss.
Such is the story of my life.”
Khantipalo Bhikkhu,
Wat Bovoranives Vihara,
Bangkok, Thailand.
6th of the Waning Moon of Citta 2508
(22nd April 1965).
In the following text, the writer of this introduction is responsible for the précis stories and the notes, except where matter is found in parentheses. The latter has been drawn from the “Hundred Thousand Songs.”
2
One day, after leaving his cave to collect firewood, Milarepa returned “to find five Indian demons with eyes as large as saucers” whom he thought to be apparitions of the deities who disliked him. As he had never given them any offering, he then began to sing a—
Complimentary Song to the Deities of
Red Rock Jewel Valley
This lonely spot where stands my hut
Is a place pleasing to the Buddhas,
A place where accomplished beings dwell,
A refuge where I dwell alone.
Above Red Rock Jewel Valley
White clouds are gliding;
Below, the Tsang River gently flows;
Wild vultures wheel between.
Bees are humming among the flowers,
Intoxicated by their fragrance;
In the trees, birds swoop and dart,
Filling the air with their song.
In Red Rock Jewel Valley
Young sparrows learn to fly,
Monkeys love to leap and swing,
And beasts to run and race,
While I practise the Two Bodhi-minds [7] and love to meditate.
Ye local demons, ghosts and gods,
All friends of Milarepa,
Drink the nectar of kindness and compassion,
Then return to your abodes.
(p. 5)
3
One day, Milarepa’s patrons from Dro Tang came to visit him. They asked him what benefits Junpan Nanka Tsang had to offer. In reply, Milarepa sang:
I pray to my Guru, the Holy One.
Listen, my patrons, and I will tell you
the merits of this place.
In the goodly quiet of this Sky Castle of Junpan
High above, dark clouds gather;
Deep blue and far below flows the River Tsang.
At my back the Red Rock of Heaven rises;
At my feet, wild flowers bloom, vibrant and profuse;
At my cave’s edge (wild) beasts roam, roar and grunt;
In the sky vultures and eagles circle freely,
While from heaven drifts the drizzling rain.
Bees hum and buzz with their chanting;
Mares and foals gambol and gallop wildly;
The brook chatters past pebbles and rocks;
Through the trees monkeys leap and swing;
And larks carol in sweet song.
The timely sounds I hear are all my fellows.
The merits of this place are inconceivable—
I now relate them to you in this song.
Oh good patrons,
Pray follow my Path and my example;
Abandon evil, and practise good deeds.
Spontaneously from my heart
I give you this instruction.
(pp. 68–69)
4
One day, some villagers from Ragma came to see the Jetsun. They asked him, “Why do you like this place so much? Why is it that you are so happy here? Pray, tell us what you think of all these things!” In answer, Milarepa sang:
Here is the Bodhi-Place, quiet and peaceful.
The snow-mountain, the dwelling-place of deities,
stands high above;
Below, far from here in the village, my faithful patrons live; Surrounding it are mountains nestling in white snow.
In the foreground stand the wish-granting trees;
In the valley lie vast meadows, blooming wild.
Around the pleasant, sweet-scented lotus, insects hum;
Along the banks of the stream
And in the middle of the lake,
Cranes bend their necks, enjoying the scene,
and are content.
On the branches of the trees, the wild birds sing;
When the wind blows gently, slowly dances the weeping willow;
In the treetops monkeys bound and leap for joy;
In the wild green pastures graze the scattered herds,
And merry shepherds, gay and free from worry,
Sing cheerful songs and play upon their reeds.
The people of the world, with burning desires and craving,
Distracted by affairs, become the slaves of earth.
From the top of the Resplendent Gem Rock,
I, the yogi, see these things.
Observing them, I know that they are fleeting and transient;
Contemplating them, I realize that comforts and pleasure
Are merely mirages and water-reflections.
I see this life as a conjuration and a dream.
Great compassion rises in my heart
For those without a knowledge of this truth.
The food I eat is the Space-Void;
My meditation is Dhyana—beyond distraction.
Myriad visions and various feelings all appear before me—
Strange indeed are Samsaric phenomena!
Truly amazing are the dharmas in the Three Worlds, [8]
Oh, what a wonder, what a marvel!
Void is their nature, yet everything is manifested.
(pp. 64–65)
5
This song was sung to a young, well-dressed girl who after asking Milarepa about his father and mother, brothers and sisters, further enquired: “But do you also have any Samsaric companions, sons and belongings?” Milarepa then sang in reply:
At first, my experiences in samsara [9]
Seemed most pleasant and delightful;
Later, I learned about its lessons;
In the end, I found a Devil’s Prison.
These are my thoughts and feelings on samsara.
So I made up my mind to renounce it.
At first, one’s friend is like a smiling angel;
Later, she turns into a fierce exasperated woman;
But in the end a demoness is she.
These are my thoughts and feelings on companions.
So I made up my mind to renounce a friend.
At first, the sweet boy smiles, a Babe of Heaven;
Later, he makes trouble with the neighbours;
In the end, he is my creditor and foe.
These are my thoughts and feelings about children.
So I renounced both sons and nephews.
At first, money is like the Wish-fulfilling Gem;
Later, one cannot do without it;
In the end, one feels a penniless beggar.
These are my thoughts and feelings about money.
So I renounced both wealth and goods.
When I think of these experiences,
I cannot help but practise Dharma;
When I think of Dharma,
I cannot help but offer it to others.
When death approaches,
I shall then have no regret.
(p. 209)
6
On his way to Shri Ri to meditate, Milarepa lodged at an inn where a merchant, Dhawa Norbu (the Moon jewel), was also staying with a great retinue. Milarepa begged alms from him upon which the merchant remarked that it would be better for him to work to support himself. Milarepa pointed out that enjoying pleasures now is the source for more suffering in the future. Then he said: “Now listen to my song.”
The Eight Reminders
Castles and crowded cities are the places
Where now you love to stay;
But remember that they will fall to ruins
After you have departed from this earth!
Pride and vain glory are the lure
Which now you love to follow;
But remember, when you are about to die
They offer you no shelter and no refuge!
Kinsmen and relatives are the people now
With whom you love to live;
But remember that you must leave them all behind
When from this world you pass away!
Servants, wealth and children
Are things you love to hold;
But remember, at the time of your death
Your empty hands can take nothing with you!
Vigour and health
Are dearest to you now;
But remember, at the moment of your death
Your corpse will be bundled up and borne away!
Now your organs are clear,
Your flesh and blood are strong and vigorous;
But remember, at the moment of your death
They will no longer be at your disposal!
Sweet and delicious foods are things
That now you love to eat;
But remember, at the moment of your death
Your mouth will let the spittle flow!
When of all this I think,
I cannot help but seek the Buddha’s Teachings!
The enjoyments and the pleasures of this world
For me have no attraction.
I, Milarepa, sing of the Eight Reminders,
At the Guest House in Garakhache of Tsang.
With these clear words I give this helpful warning;
I urge you to observe and practise them!
(pp. 150–151)
7
Milarepa once said to Shindormo, his patroness: “But if you have a precious human body and have been born at a time and place in which the Buddhist religion prevails, it is very foolish indeed not to practise the Dharma.” Milarepa thus sang:
At the feet of the Translator Marpa, I prostrate myself,
And sing to you, my faithful patrons.
How stupid it is to sin [10] with recklessness
While the pure Dharma spreads all about you.
How foolish to spend your lifetime without meaning,
When a precious human body is so rare a gift.
How ridiculous to cling to prison-like cities
and remain there.
How laughable to fight and quarrel
with your wives and relatives,
Who do but visit you.
How senseless to cherish sweet and tender words
Which are but empty echoes in a dream.
How silly to disregard one’s life by fighting foes
Who are but frail flowers.
How foolish it is when dying
to torment oneself with thoughts of family,
Which bind one to Maya’s [11] mansion.
How stupid to stint on property and money,
Which are a debt on loan from others.
How ridiculous it is to beautify and deck the body,
Which is a vessel full of filth.
How silly to strain each nerve for wealth and goods,
And neglect the nectar of the inner teachings!
In a crowd of fools, the clear and sensible
Should practise the Dharma, as do I.
(pp. 33–34)
8
A yogi who had great faith in Milarepa came with other patrons, bringing copious offerings, and they asked Milarepa “how he had managed to undergo the trials of his probationship and had exerted himself…” Milarepa answered with…
The Six Resolutions
When one has lost interest in this world,
His faith and longing for the Dharma is confirmed.
To relinquish one’s home ties is very hard;
Only by leaving one’s native land
Can one be immune from anger.
It is hard to conquer burning passions
Towards relatives and close friends;
The best way to quench them
Is to break all associations.
One never feels that one is rich enough;
Contented, he should wear humble cotton clothes.
He may thus conquer much desire and craving.
It is hard to avoid worldly attractions;
By adhering to humbleness,
Longing for vain glory is subdued.
It is hard to conquer pride and egotism;
So, like the animals,
Live in the mountains.
My dear and faithful patrons!
Such is the real understanding
That stems from perseverance.
I wish you all to practise deeds that are meaningful, [12]
And amass all merits!
(pp. 100–101)
9
Milarepa went out one day for alms and coming to a meeting of Dharma-followers, was ridiculed. One of them, however, recognized him and said: “To inspire those attending this meeting, therefore, please now sing for us.” In response, Milarepa sang a song,
The Ocean of Samsara
Alas, is not samsara like the sea?
Drawing as much water as one pleases,
It remains the same without abating.
Are not the Three Precious Ones like Mount Sumeru,
That never can be shaken by anyone?
…
Are there Mongol bandits invading yogis’ cells?
Why, then, do great yogis stay in towns and villages?
Are not people craving for rebirth and Bardo? [13]
Why, then, do they cling so much to their disciples?
Are woollen clothes in the next life more expensive?
Why, then, do women make so much of them here?
Do people fear that samsara may be emptied?
Why, then, do priests and laymen hanker after children?
Are you reserving food and drink for your next life?
Why, then, do men and women not give to charity?
Is there any misery in Heaven above?
Why, then, do so few plan to go there?
Is there any joy below in Hell?
Why, then, do so many prepare to visit there?
Do you not know that all sufferings
And Lower Realms are the result of sins?
Surely you know that if you now practise virtue,
When death comes you will have peace of mind
and no regrets.
(p. 539 extract)
10
Upon the arrival of autumn, Milarepa decided to leave Upper Lowo where he had been preaching the Dharma during the summer, and go to Di Se Snow Mountain. His patrons gave him a farewell party, circling round him, and made him offerings and obeisance. They said: “Be kind enough to give us, your disciples, some instructions and advice.” The Jetsun then emphasized the transiency of all beings, admonishing them to practise Dharma earnestly. And he sang…
The Song of Transience with Eight Similes
Faithful disciples here assembled (ask yourselves):
”Have I practised Dharma with great earnestness?
Has the deepest faith arisen in my heart?”
He who wants to practise Dharma and gain
non-regressive faith,
Should listen to this exposition of the Mundane Truths
And ponder well their meaning.
Listen to these parables and metaphors:
A painting in gold,
Flowers of turquoise blue,
Floods in the vale above,
Rice in the vale below,
Abundance of silk,
A jewel of value,
The crescent moon,
And a precious son—
These are the eight similes.
No one has sung before
Such casual words (on this),
No one can understand their meaning
If he heeds not the whole song.
The gold painting fades when it is completed—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think, then you will practise Dharma.
The lovely flowers of turquoise blue
Are destroyed in time by frost—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The flood sweeps strongly down the vale above,
Soon becoming weak and tame in the plain below—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think, then you will practise Dharma.
Rice grows in the vale below;
Soon with a sickle it is reaped
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
Elegant silken cloth
Soon with a knife is cut—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The precious jewel that you cherish
Soon will belong to others—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The pale moonbeams soon will fade and vanish—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
A precious son is born;
Soon he is lost and gone—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
These are the eight similes I sing.
I hope you will remember and practise them.
Affairs and business will drag on forever,
So lay them down and practise now the Dharma.
If you think tomorrow is the time to practise,
Suddenly you find that life has slipped away.
Who can tell when death will come?
Ever think of this,
And devote yourselves to Dharma practice.
(pp. 203–205)
11
Travelling with his disciples, Milarepa came to Din Ri Namar where he enquired for the name of the outstanding patron. Learning that the physician Yang Nge was a devoted Buddhist, he proceeded to his house, where the physician said, “It is said that Jetsun Milarepa can use anything at hand as a metaphor for preaching. Now please use the bubbles of water in this ditch before us as a metaphor and give us a discourse.” In response, Jetsun sang a song…
The Fleeting Bubbles
I pay homage to my gracious Guru—
Pray make everyone here think of the Dharma!
As he said once, “Like bubbles is
This life, transient and fleeting—
In it no assurance can be found.”
A layman’s life is like a thief
Who sneaks into an empty house.
Know you not the folly of it?
Youth is like a summer flower—
Suddenly it fades away.
Old age is like a fire spreading
Through the fields—suddenly ’tis at your heels.
The Buddha once said, “Birth and death
Are like sunrise and sunset—
Now come, now go.”
Sickness is like a little bird
Wounded by a sling.
Know you not, health and strength
Will in time desert you?
Death is like an oil-dry lamp
(After its last flicker).
Nothing, I assure you,
In this world is permanent.
Evil Karma is like a waterfall,
Which I have never seen flow upward.
A sinful man is like a poisonous tree—
If you lean on it, you will injured be.
Transgressors are like frost-bitten peas—
Like spoiled fat, they ruin everything.
Dharma-practisers are like peasants in the field—
With caution and vigour they will be successful.
The Guru is like medicine and nectar—
Relying on him, one will win success.
Discipline is like a watchman’s tower—
Observing it, one will attain Accomplishment.
The Law of Karma is like samsara’s wheel—
Whoever breaks it will suffer a great loss.
Samsara is like a poisonous thorn
In the flesh—if not pulled out,
The poison will increase and spread.
The coming of death is like the shadow
Of a tree at sunset—
It runs fast and none can halt it.
When that time comes,
What else can help but Holy Dharma?
Though Dharma is the fount of victory.
Those who aspire to it are rare.
Scores of men are tangled in
The miseries of samsara;
Into this misfortune born,
They strive by plunder and theft for gain.
He who talks on Dharma
With elation is inspired,
But when a task is set him,
He is wrecked and lost.
Dear patrons, do not talk too much,
But practise the Holy Dharma.
(pp. 632–633)
12
“This is indeed very helpful to my mind,” commented the physician, “but please preach still further for me on the truth of Karma and the suffering of birth, old age, illness and death, thus enabling me to gain a deeper conviction in Buddhadharma.” In response, the Jetsun sang:
Please listen to these words,
Dear friends here assembled.
When you are young and vigorous
You ne’er think of old age coming,
But it approaches slow and sure
Like a seed growing underground.
When you are strong and healthy
You ne’er think of sickness coming,
But it descends with sudden force
Like a stroke of lightning.
When involved in worldly things
You ne’er think of death’s approach
Quick it comes like thunder
Crashing ’round your head.
Sickness, old age and death
Ever meet each other
As do hands and mouth.
Waiting for his prey in ambush,
Yama [14] is ready for his victim,
When disaster catches him.
Sparrows fly in single file. Like them,
Life, Death and Bardo follow one another.
Never apart from you
Are these three ’visitors’.
Thus thinking, fear you not
Your sinful deeds?
Like strong arrows in ambush waiting,
Rebirth in Hell, as Hungry Ghost, or Beast
Is (the destiny) waiting to catch you.
If once into their traps you fall,
Hard will you find it to escape.
Do you not fear the miseries
You experienced in the past?
Surely you will feel much pain
If misfortunes attack you?
The woes of life succeed one another
Like the sea’s incessant waves
One has barely passed, before
The next one takes its place.
Until you are liberated, pain
and pleasure come and go at random
Like passers-by encountered in the street.
Pleasures are precarious,
Like bathing in the sun;
Transient, too, as snowstorms
Which come without warning.
Remembering these things,
Why not practise the Dharma?
(pp. 634–635)
13
Rechungpa, after returning from India, had contracted the disease of pride and in various ways Milarepa tried to cure him. As his disciple required food, they went for alms but were abused by an old woman who declared that she had no food. The next morning they found her dead and Milarepa said: “Rechungpa, like this woman, every sentient being is destined to die, but seldom do people think of this fact. So they lose many opportunities to practise the Dharma. Both you and I should remember this incident and learn a lesson from it.” Whereupon, he sang…
The Song of Transiency and Delusion
When the transience of life strikes deeply into one’s heart
One’s thoughts and deeds will naturally accord with Dharma.
If repeatedly and continuously one thinks about death,
One can easily conquer the demons of laziness.
No one knows when death will descend upon him—
Just as this woman last night!
Rechungpa, do not be harsh, and listen to your Guru!
Behold, all manifestations in the outer world
Are ephemeral like a dream last night!
One feels utterly lost in sadness
When one thinks of this passing dream.
Rechungpa, have you completely wakened
From this great puzzlement?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma.
The pleasure-yearning human body is an ungrateful creditor.
Whatever good you do to it,
It always plants the seeds of pain.
This human body is a bag of filth and dirt;
Never be proud of it, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look back at my body,
I see it as a mirage-city;
Though I may sustain it for a while,
It is doomed to extinction.
When I think of this,
My heart is filled with grief!
Rechungpa, would you not cut off samsara?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma!
A vicious person can never attain happiness.
Errant thoughts are the cause of all regrets,
Bad dispositions are the cause of all miseries,
Never be voracious, oh Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look back at my clinging mind,
It appears like a short-lived sparrow in the woods—
Homeless, and with nowhere to sleep;
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, will you let yourself indulge in ill-will?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma!
Human life is as precarious
As a single slim hair of a horse’s tail
Hanging on the verge of breaking;
It may be snuffed out at anytime
Like this old woman was last night!
Do not cling to this life, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I observe inwardly my breathings
I see they are transient, like the fog;
They may vanish any moment into nought.
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to conquer
That insecurity now?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma.
To be close to wicked kinsmen only causes hatred.
The case of this old woman is a very good lesson.
Rechungpa, stop your wishful-thinking
And listen to my song!
When I look at friends and consorts
They appear as passers-by in the bazaar;
Meeting with them is only temporary,
But separation is forever!
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to cast aside
All worldly associations?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma.
A rich man seldom enjoys
The wealth that he has earned;
This is the mockery of Karma and samsara,
Money and jewels gained through stinginess and toil
Are like this old woman’s bag of food.
Do not be covetous, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look at the fortunes of the rich,
They appear to me like honey to the bees—
Hard work, serving only for others’ enjoyment,
Is the fruit of their labour.
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to open
The treasury within your mind?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and His Teachings.
(pp. 433–435)
14
When Milarepa was sitting in meditation, a frightened deer dashed by, followed by a ravening hound. By the power of his loving-kindness and compassion (metta-karuna), Milarepa made them lie down, one on either side of him, and then preached to them. Then came the fierce and proud huntsman, Chirawa Gwunbo Dorje, who was enraged by the sight of the Jetsun and shot an arrow at him, but missed. Milarepa sang to him and his heart began to turn to the Dharma. Then the hunter saw that Milarepa was living an austere life and great faith arose in him. He wished then to practise Dharma after talking with his family but the Jetsun warned him that his present meritorious thought might change and he sang:
Hearken, hearken, huntsman!
Though the thunder crashes,
It is but empty sound;
Though the rainbow is richly-coloured,
It will soon fade away.
The pleasures of this world are like dream-visions;
Though one enjoys them, they are the source of sin.
Though all we see may seem to be eternal,
It will soon fall to pieces and will disappear.
Yesterday perhaps one had enough or more,
All today is gone and nothing’s left;
Last year one was alive, this year one dies.
Good food turns into poison,
And the beloved companion turns into a foe.
Harsh words and complaints requite
Good-will and gratitude.
Your sins hurt no one but yourself.
Among one hundred heads, you value most your own.
In all ten fingers, if one is cut, you feel the pain.
Among all things you value, yourself is valued most.
The time has come for you to help yourself.
Life flees fast. Soon death
Will knock upon your door.
It is foolish, therefore, one’s devotion to postpone.
What else can loving kinsmen do
But throw one into samsara?
To strive for happiness hereafter
Is more important than to seek it now.
The time has come for you to rely upon a Guru,
The time has come to practise Dharma.
(p. 284)
15
Milarepa: “If one is really determined to free oneself from the sufferings of samsara, such as birth, old age, illness, death, and so on, he will have peace of mind all the time and will not need to make any effort. Otherwise, he should bear in mind that the sufferings in a future life could be much more durable and longer-lasting than those in this life, and the burden could also be much heavier. It is, therefore, of paramount importance to take steps to prepare for the next life.” This was said to some young men from his native country, who asked how they could extricate themselves from worldly affairs. Then, Milarepa said: “Please hearken, and I will sing a song for you.”
We sentient beings moving in the world
Float down the flowing stream
Of the Four Sufferings. [15]
Compared to this, how much more formidable
Are the unceasing future lives in samsara
Why not, then, prepare a boat for the “crossing”?
The state of our future lives is far more fearful
And deserving of far more concern
Than are the dreadful demons, ghosts and Yama,
So why not prepare for yourself a guide?
Even the dread passions—craving, hatred and blindness—
Are not so fearful
As the state of our (unknown) future,
So why not prepare for yourself an antidote?
Great is the Kingdom of the Three Realms of Samsara,
But greater is the endless road of birth-and-death,
So why not prepare for yourself provisions?
It will be better if you practise Dharma
If you have no assurance in yourselves.
(pp. 114–115)
Milarepa said: “A human body, free and opportune, is as precious as a jewel, and to have a chance to practise the Dharma is likewise very rare. Also, to find one serious Buddhist in a hundred is difficult! Considering the difficulties of meeting the right Gurus, and other necessary favourable conditions for practising Buddhism, you should deem yourselves very fortunate that you have now met all these requirements. Do not, therefore, (waste them), but practise the Dharma.”
(p. 116)
16
Shiwa Aui, a leading disciple of Milarepa, once asked his Master, when the latter was nearing the end of his life: “Please tell us what are the joys and miseries that sentient beings experience in the Six Realms? Especially, please tell us what are the pleasures devas enjoy?” The Jetsun replied: Do not be fascinated by the pleasures of heavenly beings; they also have miseries—like this:
The pleasures enjoyed by men and devas
Are like the amusements of the Heavenly Yak: [16]
It may low like thunder
But what good can it do?
(Swooning in a state of trance),
The devas in the four Formless Heavens [17]
Cannot distinguish good from evil.
Because their minds are dull and callous,
Insensible, they have no feeling.
In unconscious stupefaction,
They live many kalpas in a second.
What a pity that they know it not!
Alas, these heavenly births
Have neither sense nor value.
When they think vicious thoughts
They start to fall again.
As to the reason for their fall
(Scholars), with empty words,
Have dried their mouths in explanations.
In the Heavens of Form, [18]
The devas of the five higher and twelve lower realms
Can only live until their merits are exhausted.
Their virtues are essentially conditional,
And their Karma basically Samsaric.
Those Dharma-practisers subject to worldly desires,
And those ’great yogis’ wrapped in stillness,
Have yet to purify their minds;
Huge may be their claims and boasts,
But habitual thought-seeds
In their minds are deeply rooted.
After a long dormant time,
Evil thoughts again will rise.
When their merits and fortunes are consumed;
They to the Lower Realms [19] will go once more!
If I explain the horror of a deva’s death,
You will be disheartened and perplexed.
Bear this in your mind and ever meditate!
(p. 663)
17
In a sad mood the disciples then asked the Jetsun to preach to them of the sufferings of the asuras. In response, he sang:
Great are asuras’ sufferings.
Misled by malignant thoughts,
To all they bring misfortunes
Knowing not their true Self-mind [20]
Their deeds are self-deceiving.
Their feelings coarse, their senses crude,
Deeming all to be their foes,
Not even for a moment
Can they know the truth.
Evil by nature, they can hardly bear a loss;
Harder is benevolence for them to cherish.
Blinded by the Karma-of-Belligerence,
Never can they take good counsel.
All nature such as this is caused
By seeking pleasures for oneself
And bearing harmful thoughts towards others.
Pride, favouritism, vanity and hatred
Are the evil Karmic forces
That drag one to a lower birth,
Making sinful deeds more easy.
Ripening Karma brings (to them)
An instinctive hatred;
Failing to distinguish right from wrong,
They can hardly be helped by any means.
Bear, oh my disciples, this in your minds
And meditate with perseverance all your lives!
(p. 664)
18
Shiwa Aui said, “Now please tell us about the sufferings of human beings.” In answer, Milarepa sang:
We human beings are endowed with power
To do good, or evil deeds;
This is because our body (personality)
Is made of all Six Elements. [21]
You junior Repas who desire to be great scholars
Should know the ’Kernel and shell’ of Buddhism.
Lest learning lead you only to confusion.
Knowing not the root of mind,
Useless is it to meditate for years.
Without sincerity and willingness,
Rich offerings have no real meaning.
Without giving impartial aid to all,
Patronage of one’s favourite is wrong.
Knowing not the right counsel for each man,
Blunt talk will only bring trouble and discord.
He who knows the appropriate way
To help men of diverse dispositions,
Can use expedient words [22] for kind and fruitful purposes.
He who knows but little of himself
Can harm many by his ignorance.
When good-will arises in one’s mind,
Stones, trees and earth all become seeds of virtue.
Again, an over-punctilious person
Knows not how to relax;
A gluttonous dog knows not what is hunger;
A brazen Guru knows not what is fear.
Rich men are wretched creatures with their money,
Poor men are wretched creatures without money.
Alas, with, or without money, both are miserable!
Happiness will come, dear children,
If you can practise the Dharma.
Remember then, my words, and practise with perseverance.
(p.665)
19
“It is very true that human beings suffer like this,” agreed the disciples. “Now please tell us about the sufferings in the three miserable realms, even though just to mention them may be distressing. Also, to spur our spiritual efforts, please preach to us of the causes of Hell and its woe.” In response, Jetsun sang:
Those who, for meat and blood
Slaughter living beings,
Will in the Eight Hot Hells be burned.
But if they can remember the Good Teachings,
Soon will they be emancipated.
Ruthless robbers who strike and kill,
Wrongly eating others’ food
While clinging to their own with greed,
Will fall into the Eight Cold Hells.
Yet if they do not hold wrong views against the Dharma
It is said that their time for deliverance will come.
(The Holy Scriptures) also say
Whene’er the denizens of hell
Recall the name of Buddha,
Delivered will they be immediately.
Ever repeating sinful deeds means
Dominance by vice and evil Karma.
Fiends filled with the craving for pleasures,
Murder even their parents and Gurus,
Rob the Three Gems of their treasure,
Revile and accuse falsely the Precious Ones,
And condemn the Dharma as untrue;
In the Hell-of-unceasing-torment [23]
These evil doers will be burned;
Far from them alas, is Liberation.
This, my sons, will certainly distress you,
So into Dharma throw your hearts
And devote yourselves to meditation!
(p. 666)
20
“For the benefit of sentient beings, please tell us now about the sufferings of the Hungry Ghosts.” In reply, Milarepa sang:
Hungry Ghosts, seeing all forms as foes,
Run from each successive terror.
Wild beasts fight and eat each other.
Who of them is to blame?
The sufferings of the Hungry Ghosts
Grow from their stinginess.
Like a rat is he who fails
To give alms when he is rich,
Begrudges food when he has plenty,
Gives no food to others, but checks
Them over, counts and stores them—
Discontented day and night.
At the time of death he sees
That his hard-earned wealth
Will be enjoyed by others.
Caught in Bardo [24] by the agony of loss,
As a Hungry Ghost he lives his life.
Due to his delusive thoughts
He suffers thirst and hunger.
When he sees his goods enjoyed by others,
He is tormented by avarice and hate.
Again and again will he thus fall down (to Hell).
I, the great Yogi of Strength,
Now sing for you the woes
Of Hungry Ghosts. Dear sons
And disciples here assembled, think on
My words and meditate with perseverance!
(p. 667)](http://inanga.smugmug.com/Spirituality/Sufi-Magic/i-gJkrH24/0/Ti/DSCF0359-Ti.jpg "OM-42 (Ancient Wisdom)
preparation for the 'i' scroll before it was painted over - see Scrolls and Boxes of Wisdom in hogproductions
Sixty Songs of Milarepa
Translated by
Garma C.C. Chang
Selected and introduced by
Bhikkhu Khantipalo
Buddhist Publication Society
Kandy • Sri Lanka
The Wheel Publication No. 95 / 97
Copyright © Kandy, Buddhist Publication Society, (1980)
BPS Online Edition © (2008)
Digital Transcription Source: BPS Transcription Project
For free distribution. This work may be republished, reformatted, reprinted and redistributed in any medium. However, any such republication and redistribution is to be made available to the public on a free and unrestricted basis, and translations and other derivative works are to be clearly marked as such.
Sixty Songs of Milarepa
Jetsun Milarepa is shown sitting at ease in front of the cave at Ghadaya near the Tibet-Nepal border. Above him appears the form of his Guru, Marpa the Translator, since meditations visualizing a Buddha or the Guru above the head, are commonly practised in Tibet (see also the Jinapañjara, a Pali composition). Around him tower rocks and mountains while waterfalls cascade below. To his right sits a deer and to his left a hunting dog. Before him kneels a huntsman who has cast down his weapons as an offering to the Jetsun (see Song 14). This illustration follows the traditional iconography of Milarepa, his sitting at ease indicating that he has already experienced the state beyond striving. “Wearing cotton from Nepal” and a meditation-belt and with his hand cupped to his ear as though listening to the ’long tongue of the Dhamma’ which preaches everywhere and all the time, the great yogi prepares to instruct the erstwhile hunter.
(The picture above was kindly provided by the Venerable Dhardo Rinpoche of the Indo-Tibet Buddhist Cultural Institute, Kalimpong (W. Bengal).)
Introduction
Outside the land of Tibet where the stories and songs of Milarepa are very well-known and loved, far too little is known of this great Buddhist sage. In English, [1] French and German, biographies, partial or complete, have been published but a great number of Milarepa’s Songs have remained inaccessible, except to those reading Tibetan, until very recently. It is possible to reproduce here sixty of his songs on the Dhamma through the kind permission of the translator, Prof. C. C. Chang, and the courtesy of his publishers, University Books Inc, New York. [2]
The songs printed here all concern that Dhamma which is common to the whole Buddhist tradition. Everyone who has read some of Lord Buddha’s Discourses in the Pali Canon will find the subject matter here familiar to them. The nearest approach in Pali literature to these Dhamma-songs of Milarepa are the inspired utterances of Lord Buddha in the Sutta Nipata, Udana and Itivuttaka (and also in the Dhammapada), and the poems of gnosis spoken by the great bhikkhus and bhikkhunis of the Noble Sangha, now collected into such books as the Theragatha and Therigatha. Among the Bhikkhus living in the Buddha-time, Vangisa Thera was outstanding for his inspired utterances (see Sn 1:8; Theragatha 395). The mind inspired and illumined with the knowledge of liberation (vimutti) pours forth its wisdom with ease in the shape of verses of great beauty and deep significance. Such was the case with Lord Buddha and some of his immediate disciples, and later, such was the case with Milarepa.
His songs have been arranged here according to subject, though no rigid classification is possible since many of the songs deal with more than one aspect of the Dhamma. First come Milarepa’s descriptions of some of his hermitages, then songs on renunciation and the dangers of samsara, followed by many more on impermanence. After them come songs describing different aspects of samsara—such as the Six Realms of Birth; birth, old age, sickness and death; and home relatives and wealth. Next are songs relating to practice—advice on how to practise and warnings about what not to do; then upon the Six Paramita and other such helpful qualities for practice as loving-kindness (metta), striving (viriya) and mindfulness (sati). Last of all come songs describing aspects of Milarepa’s realization—his contentment, happiness and non-attachment—concluding with his blessings to his patrons.
It will be seen from the above sequence that the Teaching here is not at all strange to Theravada, including as it does the Impermanence (anicca) of all things, states, people, places; that they are impermanent since they arise dependent upon conditions (paccaya); that what is conditioned, and therefore relative, is also devoid of essential being (sabbe dhamma anatta) and void of self (suñña); and that by not recognizing these truths and by thinking in terms of permanence, self, etc., we come to experience unending unsatisfactoriness (dukkha). Milarepa also points out the way to transcend dukkha and emphasizes the keeping of precepts (sila), concentrating the scattered mind (samadhi) and the development of Wisdom (pañña).
In making comparisons of different Buddhist traditions many similarities are apt to come to light. One that might be mentioned here is the immense respect and honour paid to Enlightened Teachers in any Buddhist tradition, quite regardless of the differences of time and place. One who has seen and known the Way from his own experience has always been lauded as worthy of the highest honour and the greatest devotion as in Pali: ahuneyyo, pahuneyyo, dakkhineyyo, añjali-karaniyo. Indeed, we find this as much in the pages of the Pali Canon as from the Hundred Thousand Songs. It is heard as much in the exalted devotion of Pingiya (Sutta Nipata 1131 ff.) as in the paeans of praise uttered by the principle disciples of Milarepa, Rechungpa and Gambopa. It is found in modern times in seemingly diverse surroundings—whether in a jungle monastery in Thailand where a thudong (dhutanga) bhikkhu is respecting his Teacher; or whether it is Tibetan bhikkhus or laymen receiving a meditation transmission from their Lama. The same devotion here finds expression; it is called saddha or bhatti (bhakti—a word first occurring in Indian literature in the Pali Canon), for this is the act by one still unenlightened, of setting his heart upon Enlightenment in the presence of one who is Enlightened.
Then again, the Hundred Thousand Songs many times mention the “Whispered Transmission” of meditation instructions which are imparted by the Teacher, here Milarepa, to his disciples. By some this is contrasted with the statement of Lord Buddha that He was not a Teacher who had a ’closed fist’, that is, one who keeps some Teaching secret or esoteric. Nonetheless, He is well-known for his remarkable ability in preaching exactly the right Dhamma to fit the situation and meet the understanding of those who listened. He did not teach the deep truths of Dhamma to those who were not prepared as yet to receive them and in a like fashion Milarepa graded his teachings for varying circumstances and intelligences.
Meditation instructions given by Lord Buddha to his disciples were also fitted to their temperaments and abilities. It is true that one may now read books explaining the principles of meditation in Theravada Buddhism, but with books alone, even if one reads all the Pali Canon, the disadvantage remaining is very great. In all Buddhist countries, it is always assumed that one must have a Teacher if meditation practice is to be really successful. It is this Teacher who, like Lord Buddha in past times, imparts to one the details of the practice and how, moreover, it applies to one’s special problems and circumstances. As Bhadanta Nyanaponika Mahathera has written in his “Heart of Buddhist Meditation”: ’A brief statement on practical meditation, even if limited to the very first steps as is done here, cannot replace personal guidance by an experienced teacher who alone can give due consideration to the requirements and rate of progress of the individual disciple.’ This is, if not a “Whispered Transmission”, at least an Oral Instruction.
The ’grace’ of the Teacher (guru) consists of those merits which he has gathered by his own practice and which, it is believed, may be transferred to the disciple, thus ’blessing’ him. This can only happen, however, provided that the conditions (of spiritual purity, faith, concentration, etc.) exist between that master and disciple. It is a great mistake to suppose that the disciple is getting something for nothing, for in the absence of these conditions he will experience no ’help’ from the teacher.
* * * * * *
For the dramatic and very inspiring life-story of Jetsun Milarepa as written down by a great-grand-disciple in his tradition, we have but little space here. Those interested in reading it may consult the book mentioned in the footnotes above. Suffice to say here that the Jetsun was born in BE 1596 (CE 1052) into a wealthy merchant family. As a boy he was known as Tubhaga (“Delightful-to-hear”), a name which people said was particularly appropriate since he had a fine voice and frequently sang the local ballads. His voice was later to be used for spreading the Dhamma, and those who heard it were deeply moved.
Fortunately, Milarepa has given an outline of his life in one of the songs he later sang for his disciples and we cannot do better than introduce an extract of it here.
1
I am Milarepa blessed by his (Marpa’s) mercy.
My father was Mila Shirab Jhantsan,
My mother was Nyantsa Karjan.
And I was called Tubhaga (“Delightful-to-hear”).
Because our merits and virtues were of small account,
And the Cause-Effect Karma of the past spares no one,
My father Mila passed away (too early in his life).
The deceiving goods and belongings of our household
Were plundered by my aunt and uncle,
Whom I and my mother had to serve.
They gave us food fit only for the dogs;
The cold wind pierced our ragged clothing;
Our skin froze and our bodies were benumbed.
Often I was beaten by my uncle,
And endured his cruel punishment.
Hard was it to avoid my aunt’s ill temper.
I lived as best I could, a lowly servant,
And shrugged my shoulders (in bitter resignation).
Misfortunes descended one after the other;
We suffered so, our hearts despaired.
In desperation, I went to Lamas [3] Yundun and Rondunlaga,
From whom I mastered the magic arts of Tu, Ser and Ded [4] .
Witnessed by my aunt and uncle, I brought
Great disaster on their villages and kinsmen,
For which, later, I suffered deep remorse.
Then I heard the fame of Marpa, the renowned Translator,
Who, blessed by the saints Naropa and Medripa,
Was living in the upper village of the South River.
After a hard journey I arrived there.
For six years and eight months (I stayed)
With him, my gracious Father Guru, Marpa.
For him I built many houses,
One with courtyards and nine storeys;
Only after this did he accept me.
(Page numbers in the complete translation: pp. 267–8)
Then Milarepa lists the meditation-instructions which he was given by his Guru Marpa after he had thus served a long period of hard probation and tells how by their practice he reached Enlightenment (see conclusion of this Introduction).
The name by which he is known in Tibet is Jetsun Milarepa. ’Jetsun’ is an honorific meaning ’holy’, while ’Repa’ means ’clad in cotton’. Mila was a family name. Hence, in English he may be called Holy Mila the Cotton-clad. He earned the latter name by his power to live throughout the bitter Tibetan winter with only one length of cotton cloth. Where others would have died, he lived happily immersed in the various states of samadhi producing, by his control of them, sufficient body heat. After twelve years of intense meditations in remote mountain caves far from the haunts of men in the valleys below, he succeeded in winning Enlightenment. After this time, disciples gradually gathered around him, the first being Rechungpa, his ’moon-like’ disciple, while later came his ’sun-like’ disciple Gambopa. [5] His closest disciples went forth from their homes to take up homeless life with him. Gambopa and some others were already bhikkhus, while many more such as Rechungpa were called ’Repa’, that is, yogis clad in one piece of cotton.
Like Lord Buddha, the Jetsun taught Dhamma to all—to the emissary of a king and to shepherds, to nuns and wealthy ladies, to bhikkhus and yogis, to bandits and merchants. His conversion of the hunter, Chirawa Gwumbo Dorje, is as popular a story in Tibet as is the pacifying of Angulimala by Lord Buddha, in southern Buddhist lands.
At the age of eighty, Jetsun Milarepa relinquished the body, passing away surrounded by disciples both human and celestial. For 900 years the traditions of meditation in which he trained his disciples have been handed down in Tibet. It has come to be known as the Ghagyupa (sometimes seen as Kargyutpa) which is translated as the “Whispered Transmission.” This school of Buddhist practice has, of course, its own special emphasis upon certain doctrines but songs concerned with them are not included in this booklet and the interested reader is requested to consult the “Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa.”
In the time of Milarepa, as is evident from these songs, many bhikkhus spent long years in study but never gave much heed to practice. Thus is the divorce of patipatti-dhamma or sila (moral precepts) and samadhi (meditation), from pariyatti-dhamma or simply learning. Scholar-bhikkhus of Tibet were evidently, at that time, very able in arguing the finer points of Buddhist philosophy and well-equipped with logic to worst outsiders as well as fellow Buddhists in debates. Somehow, in the welter of this study (and the Tibetan Canon and its Commentaries are considerably more extensive than their lengthy Pali counterparts), the urge to practise meditation, many of its foremost exponents were masters not possessing the monk’s robes. This was true of the spiritual forebears of Milarepa (his immediate Guru, Marpa and of the Indian yogis, Naropa and Tilopa). In several places he criticizes those bhikkhus, and indeed anyone, who studies the Dhamma just for intellectual satisfaction or even for worldly advantage. Many sincere bhikkhus did approach him for meditation instructions and, thereafter, practised with him as their Teacher. He was, therefore, a source for the spiritual regeneration of the Sangha in Tibet.
With his insistence upon the practice of Dhamma, Milarepa’s life and teaching present striking similarities in many respects, to the Way as practised by the thudong (dhutanga) bhikkhu. The greatest difference is that a bhikkhu in any country is bound to observe his Fundamental Precepts (Patimokkha) which, as Milarepa did not have the bhikkhu ordination (upasampada), he did not have to keep. Nevertheless, even a quick look at his life after he began his practice would reveal that he maintained scrupulously those injunctions given him by his Teacher, Marpa the Translator, as well as cultivating those twin bases of moral conduct in the Dhamma, Wisdom and Compassion (pañña-karuna). Far greater than this are the resemblances between him and the thudong bhikkhu. For instance, both praise contentment with little, living remotely with utter detachment from worldly affairs, great ability in meditation, and so on.
Though he had not the formal ordination of a bhikkhu and wore not the monks’ robes, yet Milarepa was truly one gone forth (pabbajita). No one reading of his life and some of the songs included here can possibly doubt this. According to definitions given in the Dhammapada, he was indeed a true bhikkhu:
“Not by adopting the outward form does one become a bhikkhu” (266).
“He who has no attachment whatsoever towards the ’mind-and-body’ and who does not grieve for what he has not,—he indeed, is called a bhikkhu” (367).
“Whoso herein, has abandoned both merit and demerit, he who is holy, he who walks with understanding in this world,—he indeed, is called a bhikkhu” (267). [6]
These various points, and perhaps others, could be raised to point out that it is in the practice of Dhamma (patipatti) that different schools of Buddhist thought are shown to have many similarities. Finally, it is in realization of the Dhamma (pativedha) where all divergence ceases, since all the methods practised by all the schools are without exception aimed at the experience of Bodhi, or Enlightenment. If the Dhamma is only studied from books, then many differences are seen separating the many Buddhist traditions but in practice there is very much in common. Since all Buddhists are urged to practise their Teachings, it is through this that harmony between the divergent traditions of Dhamma may be discovered.
This little introduction may be concluded with a stanza drawn from the autobiographical song, part of which is quoted above. More than this need not be said here, for it is better that the Jetsun sings to you his inspiring and Wisdom-inspired Songs of the Dhamma.
“I renounced all affairs of this life;
And, no longer lazy, devoted myself to Dharma.
Thus I have reached the State of Eternal Bliss.
Such is the story of my life.”
Khantipalo Bhikkhu,
Wat Bovoranives Vihara,
Bangkok, Thailand.
6th of the Waning Moon of Citta 2508
(22nd April 1965).
In the following text, the writer of this introduction is responsible for the précis stories and the notes, except where matter is found in parentheses. The latter has been drawn from the “Hundred Thousand Songs.”
2
One day, after leaving his cave to collect firewood, Milarepa returned “to find five Indian demons with eyes as large as saucers” whom he thought to be apparitions of the deities who disliked him. As he had never given them any offering, he then began to sing a—
Complimentary Song to the Deities of
Red Rock Jewel Valley
This lonely spot where stands my hut
Is a place pleasing to the Buddhas,
A place where accomplished beings dwell,
A refuge where I dwell alone.
Above Red Rock Jewel Valley
White clouds are gliding;
Below, the Tsang River gently flows;
Wild vultures wheel between.
Bees are humming among the flowers,
Intoxicated by their fragrance;
In the trees, birds swoop and dart,
Filling the air with their song.
In Red Rock Jewel Valley
Young sparrows learn to fly,
Monkeys love to leap and swing,
And beasts to run and race,
While I practise the Two Bodhi-minds [7] and love to meditate.
Ye local demons, ghosts and gods,
All friends of Milarepa,
Drink the nectar of kindness and compassion,
Then return to your abodes.
(p. 5)
3
One day, Milarepa’s patrons from Dro Tang came to visit him. They asked him what benefits Junpan Nanka Tsang had to offer. In reply, Milarepa sang:
I pray to my Guru, the Holy One.
Listen, my patrons, and I will tell you
the merits of this place.
In the goodly quiet of this Sky Castle of Junpan
High above, dark clouds gather;
Deep blue and far below flows the River Tsang.
At my back the Red Rock of Heaven rises;
At my feet, wild flowers bloom, vibrant and profuse;
At my cave’s edge (wild) beasts roam, roar and grunt;
In the sky vultures and eagles circle freely,
While from heaven drifts the drizzling rain.
Bees hum and buzz with their chanting;
Mares and foals gambol and gallop wildly;
The brook chatters past pebbles and rocks;
Through the trees monkeys leap and swing;
And larks carol in sweet song.
The timely sounds I hear are all my fellows.
The merits of this place are inconceivable—
I now relate them to you in this song.
Oh good patrons,
Pray follow my Path and my example;
Abandon evil, and practise good deeds.
Spontaneously from my heart
I give you this instruction.
(pp. 68–69)
4
One day, some villagers from Ragma came to see the Jetsun. They asked him, “Why do you like this place so much? Why is it that you are so happy here? Pray, tell us what you think of all these things!” In answer, Milarepa sang:
Here is the Bodhi-Place, quiet and peaceful.
The snow-mountain, the dwelling-place of deities,
stands high above;
Below, far from here in the village, my faithful patrons live; Surrounding it are mountains nestling in white snow.
In the foreground stand the wish-granting trees;
In the valley lie vast meadows, blooming wild.
Around the pleasant, sweet-scented lotus, insects hum;
Along the banks of the stream
And in the middle of the lake,
Cranes bend their necks, enjoying the scene,
and are content.
On the branches of the trees, the wild birds sing;
When the wind blows gently, slowly dances the weeping willow;
In the treetops monkeys bound and leap for joy;
In the wild green pastures graze the scattered herds,
And merry shepherds, gay and free from worry,
Sing cheerful songs and play upon their reeds.
The people of the world, with burning desires and craving,
Distracted by affairs, become the slaves of earth.
From the top of the Resplendent Gem Rock,
I, the yogi, see these things.
Observing them, I know that they are fleeting and transient;
Contemplating them, I realize that comforts and pleasure
Are merely mirages and water-reflections.
I see this life as a conjuration and a dream.
Great compassion rises in my heart
For those without a knowledge of this truth.
The food I eat is the Space-Void;
My meditation is Dhyana—beyond distraction.
Myriad visions and various feelings all appear before me—
Strange indeed are Samsaric phenomena!
Truly amazing are the dharmas in the Three Worlds, [8]
Oh, what a wonder, what a marvel!
Void is their nature, yet everything is manifested.
(pp. 64–65)
5
This song was sung to a young, well-dressed girl who after asking Milarepa about his father and mother, brothers and sisters, further enquired: “But do you also have any Samsaric companions, sons and belongings?” Milarepa then sang in reply:
At first, my experiences in samsara [9]
Seemed most pleasant and delightful;
Later, I learned about its lessons;
In the end, I found a Devil’s Prison.
These are my thoughts and feelings on samsara.
So I made up my mind to renounce it.
At first, one’s friend is like a smiling angel;
Later, she turns into a fierce exasperated woman;
But in the end a demoness is she.
These are my thoughts and feelings on companions.
So I made up my mind to renounce a friend.
At first, the sweet boy smiles, a Babe of Heaven;
Later, he makes trouble with the neighbours;
In the end, he is my creditor and foe.
These are my thoughts and feelings about children.
So I renounced both sons and nephews.
At first, money is like the Wish-fulfilling Gem;
Later, one cannot do without it;
In the end, one feels a penniless beggar.
These are my thoughts and feelings about money.
So I renounced both wealth and goods.
When I think of these experiences,
I cannot help but practise Dharma;
When I think of Dharma,
I cannot help but offer it to others.
When death approaches,
I shall then have no regret.
(p. 209)
6
On his way to Shri Ri to meditate, Milarepa lodged at an inn where a merchant, Dhawa Norbu (the Moon jewel), was also staying with a great retinue. Milarepa begged alms from him upon which the merchant remarked that it would be better for him to work to support himself. Milarepa pointed out that enjoying pleasures now is the source for more suffering in the future. Then he said: “Now listen to my song.”
The Eight Reminders
Castles and crowded cities are the places
Where now you love to stay;
But remember that they will fall to ruins
After you have departed from this earth!
Pride and vain glory are the lure
Which now you love to follow;
But remember, when you are about to die
They offer you no shelter and no refuge!
Kinsmen and relatives are the people now
With whom you love to live;
But remember that you must leave them all behind
When from this world you pass away!
Servants, wealth and children
Are things you love to hold;
But remember, at the time of your death
Your empty hands can take nothing with you!
Vigour and health
Are dearest to you now;
But remember, at the moment of your death
Your corpse will be bundled up and borne away!
Now your organs are clear,
Your flesh and blood are strong and vigorous;
But remember, at the moment of your death
They will no longer be at your disposal!
Sweet and delicious foods are things
That now you love to eat;
But remember, at the moment of your death
Your mouth will let the spittle flow!
When of all this I think,
I cannot help but seek the Buddha’s Teachings!
The enjoyments and the pleasures of this world
For me have no attraction.
I, Milarepa, sing of the Eight Reminders,
At the Guest House in Garakhache of Tsang.
With these clear words I give this helpful warning;
I urge you to observe and practise them!
(pp. 150–151)
7
Milarepa once said to Shindormo, his patroness: “But if you have a precious human body and have been born at a time and place in which the Buddhist religion prevails, it is very foolish indeed not to practise the Dharma.” Milarepa thus sang:
At the feet of the Translator Marpa, I prostrate myself,
And sing to you, my faithful patrons.
How stupid it is to sin [10] with recklessness
While the pure Dharma spreads all about you.
How foolish to spend your lifetime without meaning,
When a precious human body is so rare a gift.
How ridiculous to cling to prison-like cities
and remain there.
How laughable to fight and quarrel
with your wives and relatives,
Who do but visit you.
How senseless to cherish sweet and tender words
Which are but empty echoes in a dream.
How silly to disregard one’s life by fighting foes
Who are but frail flowers.
How foolish it is when dying
to torment oneself with thoughts of family,
Which bind one to Maya’s [11] mansion.
How stupid to stint on property and money,
Which are a debt on loan from others.
How ridiculous it is to beautify and deck the body,
Which is a vessel full of filth.
How silly to strain each nerve for wealth and goods,
And neglect the nectar of the inner teachings!
In a crowd of fools, the clear and sensible
Should practise the Dharma, as do I.
(pp. 33–34)
8
A yogi who had great faith in Milarepa came with other patrons, bringing copious offerings, and they asked Milarepa “how he had managed to undergo the trials of his probationship and had exerted himself…” Milarepa answered with…
The Six Resolutions
When one has lost interest in this world,
His faith and longing for the Dharma is confirmed.
To relinquish one’s home ties is very hard;
Only by leaving one’s native land
Can one be immune from anger.
It is hard to conquer burning passions
Towards relatives and close friends;
The best way to quench them
Is to break all associations.
One never feels that one is rich enough;
Contented, he should wear humble cotton clothes.
He may thus conquer much desire and craving.
It is hard to avoid worldly attractions;
By adhering to humbleness,
Longing for vain glory is subdued.
It is hard to conquer pride and egotism;
So, like the animals,
Live in the mountains.
My dear and faithful patrons!
Such is the real understanding
That stems from perseverance.
I wish you all to practise deeds that are meaningful, [12]
And amass all merits!
(pp. 100–101)
9
Milarepa went out one day for alms and coming to a meeting of Dharma-followers, was ridiculed. One of them, however, recognized him and said: “To inspire those attending this meeting, therefore, please now sing for us.” In response, Milarepa sang a song,
The Ocean of Samsara
Alas, is not samsara like the sea?
Drawing as much water as one pleases,
It remains the same without abating.
Are not the Three Precious Ones like Mount Sumeru,
That never can be shaken by anyone?
…
Are there Mongol bandits invading yogis’ cells?
Why, then, do great yogis stay in towns and villages?
Are not people craving for rebirth and Bardo? [13]
Why, then, do they cling so much to their disciples?
Are woollen clothes in the next life more expensive?
Why, then, do women make so much of them here?
Do people fear that samsara may be emptied?
Why, then, do priests and laymen hanker after children?
Are you reserving food and drink for your next life?
Why, then, do men and women not give to charity?
Is there any misery in Heaven above?
Why, then, do so few plan to go there?
Is there any joy below in Hell?
Why, then, do so many prepare to visit there?
Do you not know that all sufferings
And Lower Realms are the result of sins?
Surely you know that if you now practise virtue,
When death comes you will have peace of mind
and no regrets.
(p. 539 extract)
10
Upon the arrival of autumn, Milarepa decided to leave Upper Lowo where he had been preaching the Dharma during the summer, and go to Di Se Snow Mountain. His patrons gave him a farewell party, circling round him, and made him offerings and obeisance. They said: “Be kind enough to give us, your disciples, some instructions and advice.” The Jetsun then emphasized the transiency of all beings, admonishing them to practise Dharma earnestly. And he sang…
The Song of Transience with Eight Similes
Faithful disciples here assembled (ask yourselves):
”Have I practised Dharma with great earnestness?
Has the deepest faith arisen in my heart?”
He who wants to practise Dharma and gain
non-regressive faith,
Should listen to this exposition of the Mundane Truths
And ponder well their meaning.
Listen to these parables and metaphors:
A painting in gold,
Flowers of turquoise blue,
Floods in the vale above,
Rice in the vale below,
Abundance of silk,
A jewel of value,
The crescent moon,
And a precious son—
These are the eight similes.
No one has sung before
Such casual words (on this),
No one can understand their meaning
If he heeds not the whole song.
The gold painting fades when it is completed—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think, then you will practise Dharma.
The lovely flowers of turquoise blue
Are destroyed in time by frost—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The flood sweeps strongly down the vale above,
Soon becoming weak and tame in the plain below—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think, then you will practise Dharma.
Rice grows in the vale below;
Soon with a sickle it is reaped
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
Elegant silken cloth
Soon with a knife is cut—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The precious jewel that you cherish
Soon will belong to others—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
The pale moonbeams soon will fade and vanish—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
A precious son is born;
Soon he is lost and gone—
This shows the illusory nature of all beings,
This proves the transient nature of all things.
Think!, then you will practise Dharma.
These are the eight similes I sing.
I hope you will remember and practise them.
Affairs and business will drag on forever,
So lay them down and practise now the Dharma.
If you think tomorrow is the time to practise,
Suddenly you find that life has slipped away.
Who can tell when death will come?
Ever think of this,
And devote yourselves to Dharma practice.
(pp. 203–205)
11
Travelling with his disciples, Milarepa came to Din Ri Namar where he enquired for the name of the outstanding patron. Learning that the physician Yang Nge was a devoted Buddhist, he proceeded to his house, where the physician said, “It is said that Jetsun Milarepa can use anything at hand as a metaphor for preaching. Now please use the bubbles of water in this ditch before us as a metaphor and give us a discourse.” In response, Jetsun sang a song…
The Fleeting Bubbles
I pay homage to my gracious Guru—
Pray make everyone here think of the Dharma!
As he said once, “Like bubbles is
This life, transient and fleeting—
In it no assurance can be found.”
A layman’s life is like a thief
Who sneaks into an empty house.
Know you not the folly of it?
Youth is like a summer flower—
Suddenly it fades away.
Old age is like a fire spreading
Through the fields—suddenly ’tis at your heels.
The Buddha once said, “Birth and death
Are like sunrise and sunset—
Now come, now go.”
Sickness is like a little bird
Wounded by a sling.
Know you not, health and strength
Will in time desert you?
Death is like an oil-dry lamp
(After its last flicker).
Nothing, I assure you,
In this world is permanent.
Evil Karma is like a waterfall,
Which I have never seen flow upward.
A sinful man is like a poisonous tree—
If you lean on it, you will injured be.
Transgressors are like frost-bitten peas—
Like spoiled fat, they ruin everything.
Dharma-practisers are like peasants in the field—
With caution and vigour they will be successful.
The Guru is like medicine and nectar—
Relying on him, one will win success.
Discipline is like a watchman’s tower—
Observing it, one will attain Accomplishment.
The Law of Karma is like samsara’s wheel—
Whoever breaks it will suffer a great loss.
Samsara is like a poisonous thorn
In the flesh—if not pulled out,
The poison will increase and spread.
The coming of death is like the shadow
Of a tree at sunset—
It runs fast and none can halt it.
When that time comes,
What else can help but Holy Dharma?
Though Dharma is the fount of victory.
Those who aspire to it are rare.
Scores of men are tangled in
The miseries of samsara;
Into this misfortune born,
They strive by plunder and theft for gain.
He who talks on Dharma
With elation is inspired,
But when a task is set him,
He is wrecked and lost.
Dear patrons, do not talk too much,
But practise the Holy Dharma.
(pp. 632–633)
12
“This is indeed very helpful to my mind,” commented the physician, “but please preach still further for me on the truth of Karma and the suffering of birth, old age, illness and death, thus enabling me to gain a deeper conviction in Buddhadharma.” In response, the Jetsun sang:
Please listen to these words,
Dear friends here assembled.
When you are young and vigorous
You ne’er think of old age coming,
But it approaches slow and sure
Like a seed growing underground.
When you are strong and healthy
You ne’er think of sickness coming,
But it descends with sudden force
Like a stroke of lightning.
When involved in worldly things
You ne’er think of death’s approach
Quick it comes like thunder
Crashing ’round your head.
Sickness, old age and death
Ever meet each other
As do hands and mouth.
Waiting for his prey in ambush,
Yama [14] is ready for his victim,
When disaster catches him.
Sparrows fly in single file. Like them,
Life, Death and Bardo follow one another.
Never apart from you
Are these three ’visitors’.
Thus thinking, fear you not
Your sinful deeds?
Like strong arrows in ambush waiting,
Rebirth in Hell, as Hungry Ghost, or Beast
Is (the destiny) waiting to catch you.
If once into their traps you fall,
Hard will you find it to escape.
Do you not fear the miseries
You experienced in the past?
Surely you will feel much pain
If misfortunes attack you?
The woes of life succeed one another
Like the sea’s incessant waves
One has barely passed, before
The next one takes its place.
Until you are liberated, pain
and pleasure come and go at random
Like passers-by encountered in the street.
Pleasures are precarious,
Like bathing in the sun;
Transient, too, as snowstorms
Which come without warning.
Remembering these things,
Why not practise the Dharma?
(pp. 634–635)
13
Rechungpa, after returning from India, had contracted the disease of pride and in various ways Milarepa tried to cure him. As his disciple required food, they went for alms but were abused by an old woman who declared that she had no food. The next morning they found her dead and Milarepa said: “Rechungpa, like this woman, every sentient being is destined to die, but seldom do people think of this fact. So they lose many opportunities to practise the Dharma. Both you and I should remember this incident and learn a lesson from it.” Whereupon, he sang…
The Song of Transiency and Delusion
When the transience of life strikes deeply into one’s heart
One’s thoughts and deeds will naturally accord with Dharma.
If repeatedly and continuously one thinks about death,
One can easily conquer the demons of laziness.
No one knows when death will descend upon him—
Just as this woman last night!
Rechungpa, do not be harsh, and listen to your Guru!
Behold, all manifestations in the outer world
Are ephemeral like a dream last night!
One feels utterly lost in sadness
When one thinks of this passing dream.
Rechungpa, have you completely wakened
From this great puzzlement?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma.
The pleasure-yearning human body is an ungrateful creditor.
Whatever good you do to it,
It always plants the seeds of pain.
This human body is a bag of filth and dirt;
Never be proud of it, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look back at my body,
I see it as a mirage-city;
Though I may sustain it for a while,
It is doomed to extinction.
When I think of this,
My heart is filled with grief!
Rechungpa, would you not cut off samsara?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma!
A vicious person can never attain happiness.
Errant thoughts are the cause of all regrets,
Bad dispositions are the cause of all miseries,
Never be voracious, oh Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look back at my clinging mind,
It appears like a short-lived sparrow in the woods—
Homeless, and with nowhere to sleep;
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, will you let yourself indulge in ill-will?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma!
Human life is as precarious
As a single slim hair of a horse’s tail
Hanging on the verge of breaking;
It may be snuffed out at anytime
Like this old woman was last night!
Do not cling to this life, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I observe inwardly my breathings
I see they are transient, like the fog;
They may vanish any moment into nought.
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to conquer
That insecurity now?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and the Dharma.
To be close to wicked kinsmen only causes hatred.
The case of this old woman is a very good lesson.
Rechungpa, stop your wishful-thinking
And listen to my song!
When I look at friends and consorts
They appear as passers-by in the bazaar;
Meeting with them is only temporary,
But separation is forever!
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to cast aside
All worldly associations?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I think of Buddha and the Dharma.
A rich man seldom enjoys
The wealth that he has earned;
This is the mockery of Karma and samsara,
Money and jewels gained through stinginess and toil
Are like this old woman’s bag of food.
Do not be covetous, Rechungpa,
But listen to my song!
When I look at the fortunes of the rich,
They appear to me like honey to the bees—
Hard work, serving only for others’ enjoyment,
Is the fruit of their labour.
When I think of this, my heart is filled with grief.
Rechungpa, do you not want to open
The treasury within your mind?
Oh, the more I think of this,
The more I aspire to Buddha and His Teachings.
(pp. 433–435)
14
When Milarepa was sitting in meditation, a frightened deer dashed by, followed by a ravening hound. By the power of his loving-kindness and compassion (metta-karuna), Milarepa made them lie down, one on either side of him, and then preached to them. Then came the fierce and proud huntsman, Chirawa Gwunbo Dorje, who was enraged by the sight of the Jetsun and shot an arrow at him, but missed. Milarepa sang to him and his heart began to turn to the Dharma. Then the hunter saw that Milarepa was living an austere life and great faith arose in him. He wished then to practise Dharma after talking with his family but the Jetsun warned him that his present meritorious thought might change and he sang:
Hearken, hearken, huntsman!
Though the thunder crashes,
It is but empty sound;
Though the rainbow is richly-coloured,
It will soon fade away.
The pleasures of this world are like dream-visions;
Though one enjoys them, they are the source of sin.
Though all we see may seem to be eternal,
It will soon fall to pieces and will disappear.
Yesterday perhaps one had enough or more,
All today is gone and nothing’s left;
Last year one was alive, this year one dies.
Good food turns into poison,
And the beloved companion turns into a foe.
Harsh words and complaints requite
Good-will and gratitude.
Your sins hurt no one but yourself.
Among one hundred heads, you value most your own.
In all ten fingers, if one is cut, you feel the pain.
Among all things you value, yourself is valued most.
The time has come for you to help yourself.
Life flees fast. Soon death
Will knock upon your door.
It is foolish, therefore, one’s devotion to postpone.
What else can loving kinsmen do
But throw one into samsara?
To strive for happiness hereafter
Is more important than to seek it now.
The time has come for you to rely upon a Guru,
The time has come to practise Dharma.
(p. 284)
15
Milarepa: “If one is really determined to free oneself from the sufferings of samsara, such as birth, old age, illness, death, and so on, he will have peace of mind all the time and will not need to make any effort. Otherwise, he should bear in mind that the sufferings in a future life could be much more durable and longer-lasting than those in this life, and the burden could also be much heavier. It is, therefore, of paramount importance to take steps to prepare for the next life.” This was said to some young men from his native country, who asked how they could extricate themselves from worldly affairs. Then, Milarepa said: “Please hearken, and I will sing a song for you.”
We sentient beings moving in the world
Float down the flowing stream
Of the Four Sufferings. [15]
Compared to this, how much more formidable
Are the unceasing future lives in samsara
Why not, then, prepare a boat for the “crossing”?
The state of our future lives is far more fearful
And deserving of far more concern
Than are the dreadful demons, ghosts and Yama,
So why not prepare for yourself a guide?
Even the dread passions—craving, hatred and blindness—
Are not so fearful
As the state of our (unknown) future,
So why not prepare for yourself an antidote?
Great is the Kingdom of the Three Realms of Samsara,
But greater is the endless road of birth-and-death,
So why not prepare for yourself provisions?
It will be better if you practise Dharma
If you have no assurance in yourselves.
(pp. 114–115)
Milarepa said: “A human body, free and opportune, is as precious as a jewel, and to have a chance to practise the Dharma is likewise very rare. Also, to find one serious Buddhist in a hundred is difficult! Considering the difficulties of meeting the right Gurus, and other necessary favourable conditions for practising Buddhism, you should deem yourselves very fortunate that you have now met all these requirements. Do not, therefore, (waste them), but practise the Dharma.”
(p. 116)
16
Shiwa Aui, a leading disciple of Milarepa, once asked his Master, when the latter was nearing the end of his life: “Please tell us what are the joys and miseries that sentient beings experience in the Six Realms? Especially, please tell us what are the pleasures devas enjoy?” The Jetsun replied: Do not be fascinated by the pleasures of heavenly beings; they also have miseries—like this:
The pleasures enjoyed by men and devas
Are like the amusements of the Heavenly Yak: [16]
It may low like thunder
But what good can it do?
(Swooning in a state of trance),
The devas in the four Formless Heavens [17]
Cannot distinguish good from evil.
Because their minds are dull and callous,
Insensible, they have no feeling.
In unconscious stupefaction,
They live many kalpas in a second.
What a pity that they know it not!
Alas, these heavenly births
Have neither sense nor value.
When they think vicious thoughts
They start to fall again.
As to the reason for their fall
(Scholars), with empty words,
Have dried their mouths in explanations.
In the Heavens of Form, [18]
The devas of the five higher and twelve lower realms
Can only live until their merits are exhausted.
Their virtues are essentially conditional,
And their Karma basically Samsaric.
Those Dharma-practisers subject to worldly desires,
And those ’great yogis’ wrapped in stillness,
Have yet to purify their minds;
Huge may be their claims and boasts,
But habitual thought-seeds
In their minds are deeply rooted.
After a long dormant time,
Evil thoughts again will rise.
When their merits and fortunes are consumed;
They to the Lower Realms [19] will go once more!
If I explain the horror of a deva’s death,
You will be disheartened and perplexed.
Bear this in your mind and ever meditate!
(p. 663)
17
In a sad mood the disciples then asked the Jetsun to preach to them of the sufferings of the asuras. In response, he sang:
Great are asuras’ sufferings.
Misled by malignant thoughts,
To all they bring misfortunes
Knowing not their true Self-mind [20]
Their deeds are self-deceiving.
Their feelings coarse, their senses crude,
Deeming all to be their foes,
Not even for a moment
Can they know the truth.
Evil by nature, they can hardly bear a loss;
Harder is benevolence for them to cherish.
Blinded by the Karma-of-Belligerence,
Never can they take good counsel.
All nature such as this is caused
By seeking pleasures for oneself
And bearing harmful thoughts towards others.
Pride, favouritism, vanity and hatred
Are the evil Karmic forces
That drag one to a lower birth,
Making sinful deeds more easy.
Ripening Karma brings (to them)
An instinctive hatred;
Failing to distinguish right from wrong,
They can hardly be helped by any means.
Bear, oh my disciples, this in your minds
And meditate with perseverance all your lives!
(p. 664)
18
Shiwa Aui said, “Now please tell us about the sufferings of human beings.” In answer, Milarepa sang:
We human beings are endowed with power
To do good, or evil deeds;
This is because our body (personality)
Is made of all Six Elements. [21]
You junior Repas who desire to be great scholars
Should know the ’Kernel and shell’ of Buddhism.
Lest learning lead you only to confusion.
Knowing not the root of mind,
Useless is it to meditate for years.
Without sincerity and willingness,
Rich offerings have no real meaning.
Without giving impartial aid to all,
Patronage of one’s favourite is wrong.
Knowing not the right counsel for each man,
Blunt talk will only bring trouble and discord.
He who knows the appropriate way
To help men of diverse dispositions,
Can use expedient words [22] for kind and fruitful purposes.
He who knows but little of himself
Can harm many by his ignorance.
When good-will arises in one’s mind,
Stones, trees and earth all become seeds of virtue.
Again, an over-punctilious person
Knows not how to relax;
A gluttonous dog knows not what is hunger;
A brazen Guru knows not what is fear.
Rich men are wretched creatures with their money,
Poor men are wretched creatures without money.
Alas, with, or without money, both are miserable!
Happiness will come, dear children,
If you can practise the Dharma.
Remember then, my words, and practise with perseverance.
(p.665)
19
“It is very true that human beings suffer like this,” agreed the disciples. “Now please tell us about the sufferings in the three miserable realms, even though just to mention them may be distressing. Also, to spur our spiritual efforts, please preach to us of the causes of Hell and its woe.” In response, Jetsun sang:
Those who, for meat and blood
Slaughter living beings,
Will in the Eight Hot Hells be burned.
But if they can remember the Good Teachings,
Soon will they be emancipated.
Ruthless robbers who strike and kill,
Wrongly eating others’ food
While clinging to their own with greed,
Will fall into the Eight Cold Hells.
Yet if they do not hold wrong views against the Dharma
It is said that their time for deliverance will come.
(The Holy Scriptures) also say
Whene’er the denizens of hell
Recall the name of Buddha,
Delivered will they be immediately.
Ever repeating sinful deeds means
Dominance by vice and evil Karma.
Fiends filled with the craving for pleasures,
Murder even their parents and Gurus,
Rob the Three Gems of their treasure,
Revile and accuse falsely the Precious Ones,
And condemn the Dharma as untrue;
In the Hell-of-unceasing-torment [23]
These evil doers will be burned;
Far from them alas, is Liberation.
This, my sons, will certainly distress you,
So into Dharma throw your hearts
And devote yourselves to meditation!
(p. 666)
20
“For the benefit of sentient beings, please tell us now about the sufferings of the Hungry Ghosts.” In reply, Milarepa sang:
Hungry Ghosts, seeing all forms as foes,
Run from each successive terror.
Wild beasts fight and eat each other.
Who of them is to blame?
The sufferings of the Hungry Ghosts
Grow from their stinginess.
Like a rat is he who fails
To give alms when he is rich,
Begrudges food when he has plenty,
Gives no food to others, but checks
Them over, counts and stores them—
Discontented day and night.
At the time of death he sees
That his hard-earned wealth
Will be enjoyed by others.
Caught in Bardo [24] by the agony of loss,
As a Hungry Ghost he lives his life.
Due to his delusive thoughts
He suffers thirst and hunger.
When he sees his goods enjoyed by others,
He is tormented by avarice and hate.
Again and again will he thus fall down (to Hell).
I, the great Yogi of Strength,
Now sing for you the woes
Of Hungry Ghosts. Dear sons
And disciples here assembled, think on
My words and meditate with perseverance!
(p. 667)")
CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula
![CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula](http://inanga.smugmug.com/Spirituality/Sufi-Magic/i-57f9J5m/0/L/last%20karakia-L.jpg "CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula")
CHAPTER TWELVE
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula
Song of the Last Days
'WEEP FOR THE PEACE CHILD, and those who are no more...
WE COME TO THE LAST SONG OF THE TWELVE. And it is the saddest, because many valleys still echo to the sound of the last karakia [prayer] and cries of pain. The land remembers. It still remembers. It still remembers the Dark Nights when so many flew the wairua trails to the stars. The mountains remember the bleached bones of mokopuna [grandchildren] abandoned to rain and wind, when none remained to take them to the high places to rest with the stone.
For generations 'Atea' reigned, and we knew the World of Light. Then 'Po Kerekere' descended to clothe all with Darkness. And the Nation was no more.
THE KETE OF THE LAST KARAKIA
WALK WITH THE PEACE CHILD UNTIL THE END
WE COME RELUCTANTLY TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE PEOPLE, to the final trail of tears and the last song. And we come with deep sadness carrying the kete of love. Remember good and evil are woven from the same threads; the cloak that shows its brilliant colours to the Sun also casts the shadow on the ground. Some are drawn to the radiant colours and give joy to others, and some are grown to darkness and send forth pain...
'In the Light there is life and compassion
in the Darkness there is only darkness
in the Light the dream knows no bounds
in the Darkness the dream distorts
and fails to find its beginning, and fears its end'
All are kin of Tane Mahuta. All descend from the red earth shaped into the First woman. Yet, some children stand tall and gentle in the Sun, while others crouch in the dark feeding on anger and hurt.
The children of peace are like saplings nurtured by the Earth Mother. Seeking the light, they reach ever upwards to the sky to become the tall trees of the forest.
The children of the Darkness grow as stunted plants. Their minds are bound within soured roots and tangled branches, that turn on themselves in frustration. And their anger feeds on anger to grow without design, to twist and enfold, to hinder and harm. The Darkness has forgotten the beauty of the tree that stands straight and true.
They are the children of Tu Ma Tauenga. And as long as they walk to the beat of his drum they will remain as children bound within the unfinished mind, bound within the thwarted spirit, bound within bodies that see strength in destruction and find succouring in the suffering of others.
'Darkness gathered on the ocean to bring the Red Tides of War'
Famine and greed are the storm tides that bring the warriors of death. In distant lands children were born to take up weapons and launch the waka of war. And sails driven by the winds of envy and hate brought the vengeance of Tu Mata Tauenga to our shores.
They knew the way. Seven waka came on the long tides. They did not arrive as one but over many generations. The first to bring weapons against the Nation were challenged by our minds, and they put aside the ways of destruction and joined with our seed. And, in time, anger was bred out of them and they became tall trees of Waitaha.
'And other waka arrived to the beat of the Drums of War'
Once again strange sails crossed the waves. Fierce were these people. They came to the shores of Whai Repo to make their villages and shape their weapons. We stood against them with calm minds and sent beautiful rainbows to turn back the shadows that fell on the trails. But the Darkness broke through and coloured the rivers with the deepest pain.
Whai Repo bled from generation to generation, but Aotea Roa still knew the gentleness of Rongo Marae Roa and the God Stone still moved along the Peace Trail. Then a waka was wrecked on the southern coast of Aotea Roa, and we saved the weakening crew from the surf. And they came ashore with their weapons, and we met them in peace and died in peace.
Then a warrior waka came to the northern waters of Aotea Roa. The smoke of burning villages shrouded the blue skies and shadowed the Moon. And they built their forts on the headlands. Years later two great vessels carrying many sails [1] anchored near Whakarerea. The war trumpets sounded, and the warriors launched their waka against the 'fair skinned ones in strange clothes', and death drifted on the tides. And those mighty waka sailed away to the sound of thunder that kills from afar.
The rest of Aotea Roa was still free of the heavy tread of the warriors. Then, many generations later, another tall vessel of many sails came to these shores. [2] The songs that tell of its passing say it visited the waters off Te Whatanui o Rakaihautu, [3], but did not make landfall. We marked it well; soon after, we saw the approach of the Darkest Days.
Now the waka of the warriors came to the villages of Ihutai Maroro and Okaroro and the many lagoons of Waimangariri. We sheltered them, and fed them the sweet kumara that sustains all, for they came in peace. And they saw our strength, and felt the gentle touch of our minds and sailed away. And we saw dark clouds gather, and prepared a great waka to sail with our most precious seed; the children we would send on the tides of tomorrow.
Then the warriors returned in the name of Tu Ma Tauenga with the weapons that call up death. And their red fires seared the land. And our tears could not hold back the flames.
We did not take up arms. When the drums of dread sounded through the valleys, we left the gardens, and the nets, and quietly put aside our digging sticks and paddles. And we put on cloaks of friendship. And we stood tall as the totara stands tall and joined in the circle of peace. Hand held hand, but we did not say 'goodbye'. We bowed our heads to the patu, and hoped some would be spared to say the last karakia to send our wairua to the stars.
And we went in peace. There were no battles, only our dead. The young, the old, the women, the men, everyone. And where the families fell the circle of our dreams was broken. Once we were numbered as the sands upon the shore; now we are few.'
The Trail of the Tall Trees
'All has been shared for our children and their children's children'
It is time to return the kete [Baskets of Knowledge] to Tuatara who guards the Knowledge, but before we make that journey the elders of Waitaha say to the youth of this land...
'Walk tall. Remember the ancestors of the Nation came from many colours. Some were red of skin, others brown or white, but all knew the pain of the Darkness that swept the land, and stayed true to the Peace Child.
And know the few that remained continued to plant the vines that bring peoples together. And filled their kete with food, for the body, mind and the spirit. And kept the old lore intact as a taonga [treasures] to guide you in times of adversity.
And know the taonga are given to all who live within sight of the mountains and wish to call this land home. You are the children of the new Nation. Care for one another. Walk with aroha and walk in peace.'
The sacred knowledge held in trust and opened in trust has been recorded in trust. What was foretold has come to pass. And it has been a trail of pain and a trail of joy. And that was how it was meant to be for none may walk lightly with the Kete of the Ancestors.
Tihei mauri ora
Ki te whei Ao
Ki te Ao marama
Ka huri te Ao...
I breathe the spirit of life
And join the world of happiness
And the World of Light
And I turn in my circle
As the world turns in its own...
Te Moana
Te Moana Hurihuri
Te Moana Teretere
Moana Tarewa...
The last karakia from 'Song of Waitaha: The Histories of a Nation' being the teachings of Iharaira Te Meihana, Wiremu Ruka Te Korako, Taare Reweti Te Maiharoa, Perenara Hone Hare, Heremia Te Wake and Renata Kauere
1. Tasman; 2. Cook; 3. Banks Peninsula