this poem by the sixth is partcularity revelvant to my life. not that i am comparing myself to such greatness but the tension between desire and non attachment is mind blowing sometimes. a friend describe my aversion towards woman as also monk like, a joke but alas partly true.
that girl who’s stolen my mind –
if we could be together forever –
like the joy of finding a jewel
deep in the depths of the sea.
white teeth smiling.
brightness of skin.
on my seat in the high lama’s row
at the quick edge of my glance
i caught her looking at me.
doing what my lover wishes
i lose my chance for dharma.
but wondering in lonely mountain retreats
opposes my lover’s wishes.
by drawing diagrams on the ground
the stars of space can be measured.
through familiar with the soft flesh
of my lover’s body
i cannot measure her depths.
when i held the jewel in my hand
i didn’t know its worth.
when i lost it to another
the wind of loss howled in my chest.
if young girls never died
there would be no need to brew beer.
at such a time
this is a young mant’s surest
source of refuge.
the arrow of fortune is shot.
it strikes the target
or buries its tip in the ground.
since i’ve met my new lover
my heart flies after her all on its own.
meditating, my lama’s face
does not shine in mind.
unbidden, my lover’s face
again and again appears.
first, best not to see.
then mind won’t be captivated.
next, best not to become intimate.
then mind won’t be trapped.
-the sixth dalai lama