The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Seven (68 page)

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Authors: Chögyam Trungpa

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BOOK: The Collected Works of Chögyam Trungpa: Volume Seven
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Canadians take lots of pride as traditionalist triplelionist

Harpist

Single-lion-ist

And triple-fleur-de-lis-ist.

We take pride in the triple maple leaves.

Dharma comes to Canada with a dot in space

As tiger lion garuda dragon and three-jewel principle.

Dharmadhatu Canada has woken up lots of sleepy Canadians and slowed down lots of busy Canadians.

Dharmadhatu Canada has created the crown jewel of Vajradhatu as Canada deserves.

Vajradhatu Canada is certainly the king’s ransom.

Obviously, the Vajradhatu Canada is the best crown jewel,

Sitting quite self-snugly on top of Canada,

With the three jewels and their flame permeating the ten directions,

Sitting on the throne of Les États-Unis d’Amérique du Nord.

Rejouissez-vous! le soleil du grand est se lève.

Le point dans l’espace,

L’armure de la vie,

Manifestent l’intrépidité.

Le voyage vers l’est est périlleux,

Néanmoins nous le trouvons extraordinaire.

Par accident, nous découvrons le soleil du grand est.

Hey! Ho! mesdames et messieurs,

Approchez et joignez-vous à l’expédition du grand orient.

Nous avons trouvé le Canada par pure coincidence,

Nous avons découverts qu’il est le soleil du grand est.

Déclarons le Canada première découverte du soleil du grand est.

En l’honneur de la vision Shambhala,

Enlaçons-le, embrassons-le.

Ô soleil du grand est canadien,

Nous t’avons trouvé au Keltic Lodge.

Venez et célébrez!

December 4, 1980
Keltic Lodge
Ingonish, Nova Scotia

Turning Point

 

Learning is difficult.

Growing up is painful.

Conquering is arduous.

Discipline is endless.

 

With your exertion and dedication, sooner or later

You will learn how to swallow the sun and moon

Together with a galaxy of stars.

You will learn to ride the tiger.

You will fly with the banner of the Great Eastern Sun.

Come along and join us!

 

Cheerful birthday, my son.

You should supersede your father.

May the wisdom of the Rigdens be with you on this occasion.

May the blessings of the Kagyü and the Nyingma lineages guide you forevermore.

January 16, 1981
Lake Louise, Alberta

To the Sawang Ösel Mukpo on his eighteenth birthday.

You Might Be Tired of the Seat That You Deserve

 

FOR THE VAJRA REGENT AT MIDSUMMER’S DAY

 

Dearly loved comrade,

If you do not hold the seat,

Others may take it away;

If you do not sit on a rock,

It becomes mushy clay;

If you don’t have patience to sit on a rock or seat,

They give you away;

If you are not diligent in holding the throne,

Some opportunist will snatch it away;

If you are tired of your seat,

Some interior decorator will rearrange it;

If you don’t have a throne,

You cannot speak or proclaim from it,

So the audience will dissipate;

If you don’t have a government seat to sit on,

Your wisdom and command seal will be snatched by others;

If you run around, thinking that you have a seat to come back to,

It will be washed away by the turbulent river,

Like a presidential platform;

You can never proclaim your command:

Either it will be disassembled by the cockroaches

Or the frivolous multitude will take it away as souvenirs.

 

It may be hard to sit on the seat,

But one must endure it.

Do sit on your seat,

Whether it is hard or soft.

Once you sit on your seat,

The sitting itself becomes truly command and message;

Then, undoubtedly, multitudes of people will respect and obey it

As the vajra throne of Bodhgaya where Buddha taught.

Truth becomes exertion.

The message of hard fact proclaims itself,

So you don’t have to emphasize harder truth.

Offering your seat in order to please others will not give authentic reward—

They will take the attitude that you are a pleasant seat-offerer.

So, my son, please don’t move around;

Assume your seat, and sit, and be.

If you be that way, truth prevails;

Command is heard throughout the land.

So sit and hold your seat.

Then you will enjoy, because others will admire you.

This is hard to do, but easy to accomplish.

June 21, 1981

When I Ride a Horse

 

When I ride a horse,

I hold my seat.

When I play with snakes,

I snap them on my wrist.

When I play with dangerous maidens,

I let them talk first.

July 2, 1981

Hunting the Setting-Sun Moon

 

Lady with the golden heart

Tinged with the power of juniper smoke—

We have been married for eleven years.

You are the luscious meadow filled with fresh greenness

And deer frolicking with good head and shoulders, full of pride.

When I am naughty, you are so kind,

You are so good—

Like the clouds, pure and good:

They do not need to be put through a washing machine.

It is incredible that you put up with me.

You bear the mark of a unicorn.

Sometimes I wonder why you are so good to me.

Nonetheless, I try to be kind, good, the best husband that the world could ever provide.

You never hesitate to tell the truth when you see the falsity.

I have created the Court for you:

Undoubtedly, you deserve it.

Your beauty is that you are never stained by the wickedness.

Being with you, you are constant.

You are so predictable and yet you are so visionary.

Your breath smells of unstained truth,

Your smile is never meant to win others over.

O sweet Diana, the huntress, the rider,

Empress Lady, I live for you, I die for you.

Up to this point, I have never had an opportunity to express my adoration.

Lady of life,

Lady who presides over the sun and moon,

You are the Lady who maintains integrity and truth;

You have never violated a single moment of truth since our marriage.

This is a parting gift in your praise.

We cry and laugh together in this mirror of the world;

Let us conquer the world and radiate the Great Eastern Sun.

My salutations to you.

I am your companion and humble servant.

Let us shoe the horses in the vajra style.

O queen of queens,

Let us share and have jolly good life together, Diana.

July 10, 1981

On the eve of departing on a journey, the Vidyadhara wrote a poem for his wife, Lady Diana Mukpo. “The huntress” refers to the goddess Diana in Roman mythology.

Timely Innuendo

 

FOR LOPPÖN LODRÖ DORJE

 

The burning heart of reality kindles the twigs of awesome truth.

Men’s fate depends on their actions.

Mysticism is plumage on one’s hat.

Let us dance with the Loppön!

Your devotion and wisdom are certainly worthy of praise.

August 18, 1981

Why Reality Is So Real

 

When you appreciate the harmony of things as they are,

You wonder why snakes have forked tongues.

As we study with our teachers,

We wonder why the dharmas are so true.

When we lie on our backs—why the sky is so blue.

When we smile to our friends—why it brings equilibrium.

O father guru, the only thing I can say is, you never cheat us,

And your gift is so true and real and precious.

The questions of why and how are futile.

Thank you.

August 22, 1981
Dorje Dzong

Fearlessness and Joy Are Truly Yours

 

When a warrior king presents a gift,

It should be naked flame

Which consumes the jungle of ego,

Or ice cold mountain range

Which cools the heat of aggression.

On the other hand, it could be a parachute,

Which questionably will open or not.

There is a further choice—thunderbolt:

Whether you are capable of holding it with a bare hand is up to you.

So, my heartfelt son, take them and use them

In the way that the past warriors have done.

You have the strength and capability as well as careful training.

Please cherish this standard of mine, the tiger lion garuda dragon dignity flag.

So you will accomplish maitri, karuna, joy, and greater vision.

With the work that you have performed and lots of sacrifice for the sake of greater sangha,

And bringing about Great Eastern Sun for the enlightened society,

You deserve to live a thousand years—

Whether you like it or not.

You have learned a lot, performed magnificently.

I the humble Vajracharya, along with my wife, would like to wish cheerful birthday to you, my lord.

August 20, 1981
The Kalapa Court
Boulder, Colo.

A birthday poem for the Vajra Regent.

A Heart Lost and Discovered

 

If there is no full moon in the sky,

How is it possible to see the reflection in the pond?

If the tiger has sharp claws,

How is it possible not to use them?

How could we bake our bread

If there were no fire?

At the death of the Karmapa we become softened and devotional.

It is true,

Those who have never cried in their lives, cry this time,

And shed tears that will water the earth:

So, we can produce further flowers and greenery.

November 14, 1981

On the death of His Holiness Rangjung Rikpe Dorje, the sixteenth Gyalwa Karmapa.

Command

 

Nuclear catastrophe is imminent;

Man’s aggression to kill himself or others is imminent;

Tiger hates his or her stripes and is going to untiger;

Yet Karmapa never left a declaration of independence.

The Kagyü kingdom is intact,

If not totally packaged by Vajradhatu of North America.

I am so sad, so devastated,

I feel I have lost my head;

But I have gained a new head, a Karmapa head.

For better or worse I will rule according to Karmapa’s imperial command:

I will remain as the Emperor of Kalapa.

We still allow people to smile and grin:

Human beings’ habitual patterns are obviously the best of their ability to create a society of their own,

Whether they are tiger, lion, yak, or buffalo.

We like America in its buffaloness:

Let America be buffalo kingdom, in spite of the unicorns.

Cheerio, as we say in Britain.

You deserve your cheerfulness, nonetheless.

December 20, 1981
Boulder, Colo.

Composed during a ceremony marking the cremation of the sixteenth Karmapa.

Golden Sun

 

FOR SHIBATA KANJURO XX, ARCHERY MASTER

 

In this land of
kami-no-yama,
I still miss you.

We are all longing for your wisdom.

As you know, we have lost our leader the Karmapa,

But it is comforting to have you as good friend and teacher.

The mirror has never stopped reflecting,

The
kiku
has never stopped blossoming;

Yumi
still twangs

Ya
still fly:

Our students constantly practice and look forward to your further teaching.

I, your friend, am getting old and sick,

But still my heart’s blood turns into liquid iron.

The strength of appreciation for the warrior heritage

Is part of my metallic blood,

And my bones are made out of meteoric iron.

 

Profound respect to you, Sensei, on your birthday:

May the Great Eastern Sun continuously arise in your life, with happiness and prosperity.

December 29, 1981

As Skylarks Hunt for Their Prey

 

As skylarks hunt for their prey,

I am captured by their stillness.

 

I experience neither thirst nor hunger,

But skylarks captivate my memory.

 

Whistling arrows on the battlefield remind me of my general’s bravery:

Should I run away or should I stay?

 

Buddhism neither tells me the false nor the true:

It allows me to discover myself.

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