Ingredients:
Sayings of Buddha on "The Exalted".
Rendered in haiku form.
This is twenty-sixth and last in the series!
The image is "Lux in Tenebris" by Evelyn De Morgan.
Rendered in haiku form.
This is twenty-sixth and last in the series!
The image is "Lux in Tenebris" by Evelyn De Morgan.
Directions:
Cut the stream of lust
That binds you to your desire.
Trace it to its source.
When you cut the thread,
The conditioned world dissolves
And all becomes clear.
The exalted one
Established in the two truths
Breaks illusion’s chains.
He knows what's skilful,
And he knows what's unskilful
And he goes beyond.
Through meditation,
Training in calm and insight,
The two become one.
There is no this shore,
No other shore, free from wrongs,
For the exalted.
Practicing alone,
Clean and pure, he meditates.
His work has been done.
No subject-object,
He reaches the highest goal,
Free from dishonour.
The sun is brilliant
By day, the king resplendent,
But he shines always.
Silver is the moon
By night, gold the awakened
In meditation.
But Buddha’s splendour
Shines at all times, day and night,
Surpassing all lights.
He is exalted
Who rids himself of evil,
Strife and distraction.
To strike him is wrong
And shameful, yet if assailed,
He takes no offence.
More shameful is he
Who does not restrain anger
And returns a blow.
The more one protects
The mind from harmful intent,
The less one’s sorrow.
He does no evil,
Restrained in the three aspects:
In deed, word and thought.
Honour your teacher,
Who enlightened you like fire,
For his sacrifice.
He is exalted,
Not on account of his line,
Birth or matted hair.
Only through the Truth,
And the way of purity
Is he exalted.
Why do you sit there,
O foolish one, hair tangled,
Mind ragged with lust?
Why wear a deer skin
When inside is a forest
Which you never clean?
He is exalted,
Who wears rags and meditates,
His veins standing out.
He is exalted,
Not because his mother is,
Though born from her womb.
Through his own effort,
Pure and without attachments,
He is exalted.
Having cut all bonds,
He is fearless and boundless,
Without trace of sin.
He clings to nothing.
Like drops on a lotus leaf,
Pleasures fall away.
Like a mustard seed,
Balancing on a needle,
Desires are fleeting.
He is exalted,
Who lays down sorrow’s burden
And lives without sin.
He sees depths profound,
And discerning right from wrong,
Gains the highest peak.
The exalted cut
The strap, the thong and the cord
And unbolt Truth’s door.
Patient, he endures
Insults, beating or prison
And feels no anger.
With strength of patience,
Greater than an army’s might,
Resigned, he conquers.
He never angers,
Keeps his vows and frees his will,
This body his last.
He lingers not with
Settler or nomad, but lives
Alone with few wants.
Renouncing violence,
He does not kill nor cause death
Of life, pure or not.
Peaceful and detached,
Among the hostile or armed,
He bears no rancour.
Like a mustard seed
Lust, hate, pride and false piety
Slip the needle’s point.
He is never harsh,
His words kind, helpful and true,
They offend no-one.
Nothing does he take,
Not given him, good or bad,
Long, short, great or small.
He has no desire
For this world or for the next,
Free from lust and sin.
Free from lust, he sees
The four noble truths and holds
No shadow of doubt.
Beyond worldly ties,
Good or bad, he’s wholly pure
And free of sorrows.
He is pure and calm
Like the moon in a clear sky,
Not craving selfhood.
He has crossed the swamp
Of passion, the road of sin,
The ocean of life.
Out of the darkness,
Having crossed illusion’s flood,
He’s reached the far shore.
In calm and insight,
Free from grasping or doubting,
He has found true peace.
He has extinguished
All taste for homely pleasures,
Resolute his will.
To become seeker,
He has given up the world.
Clear, he passes on.
Earth does not bind him,
Nor do pleasures from heaven,
For nought can bind him.
He gives up pleasure
And he gives up discontent
To find inner peace.
He knows in detail
How things rise and pass. Detached,
He sees the four truths.
His destination,
Neither gods nor men can know,
For he has woken.
He carries no past,
Nor waits no future in the
Undying present.
Fearless as a bull,
Noble, whole-hearted and pure,
He has conquered all.
He knows former lives,
He sees into all the worlds,
His line is ending.
But he’s exalted
Beyond heaven, beyond hell,
For he is awake.
He has accomplished
All that he had come to do
And now he is one.
That binds you to your desire.
Trace it to its source.
When you cut the thread,
The conditioned world dissolves
And all becomes clear.
The exalted one
Established in the two truths
Breaks illusion’s chains.
He knows what's skilful,
And he knows what's unskilful
And he goes beyond.
Through meditation,
Training in calm and insight,
The two become one.
There is no this shore,
No other shore, free from wrongs,
For the exalted.
Practicing alone,
Clean and pure, he meditates.
His work has been done.
No subject-object,
He reaches the highest goal,
Free from dishonour.
The sun is brilliant
By day, the king resplendent,
But he shines always.
Silver is the moon
By night, gold the awakened
In meditation.
But Buddha’s splendour
Shines at all times, day and night,
Surpassing all lights.
He is exalted
Who rids himself of evil,
Strife and distraction.
To strike him is wrong
And shameful, yet if assailed,
He takes no offence.
More shameful is he
Who does not restrain anger
And returns a blow.
The more one protects
The mind from harmful intent,
The less one’s sorrow.
He does no evil,
Restrained in the three aspects:
In deed, word and thought.
Honour your teacher,
Who enlightened you like fire,
For his sacrifice.
He is exalted,
Not on account of his line,
Birth or matted hair.
Only through the Truth,
And the way of purity
Is he exalted.
Why do you sit there,
O foolish one, hair tangled,
Mind ragged with lust?
Why wear a deer skin
When inside is a forest
Which you never clean?
He is exalted,
Who wears rags and meditates,
His veins standing out.
He is exalted,
Not because his mother is,
Though born from her womb.
Through his own effort,
Pure and without attachments,
He is exalted.
Having cut all bonds,
He is fearless and boundless,
Without trace of sin.
He clings to nothing.
Like drops on a lotus leaf,
Pleasures fall away.
Like a mustard seed,
Balancing on a needle,
Desires are fleeting.
He is exalted,
Who lays down sorrow’s burden
And lives without sin.
He sees depths profound,
And discerning right from wrong,
Gains the highest peak.
The exalted cut
The strap, the thong and the cord
And unbolt Truth’s door.
Patient, he endures
Insults, beating or prison
And feels no anger.
With strength of patience,
Greater than an army’s might,
Resigned, he conquers.
He never angers,
Keeps his vows and frees his will,
This body his last.
He lingers not with
Settler or nomad, but lives
Alone with few wants.
Renouncing violence,
He does not kill nor cause death
Of life, pure or not.
Peaceful and detached,
Among the hostile or armed,
He bears no rancour.
Like a mustard seed
Lust, hate, pride and false piety
Slip the needle’s point.
He is never harsh,
His words kind, helpful and true,
They offend no-one.
Nothing does he take,
Not given him, good or bad,
Long, short, great or small.
He has no desire
For this world or for the next,
Free from lust and sin.
Free from lust, he sees
The four noble truths and holds
No shadow of doubt.
Beyond worldly ties,
Good or bad, he’s wholly pure
And free of sorrows.
He is pure and calm
Like the moon in a clear sky,
Not craving selfhood.
He has crossed the swamp
Of passion, the road of sin,
The ocean of life.
Out of the darkness,
Having crossed illusion’s flood,
He’s reached the far shore.
In calm and insight,
Free from grasping or doubting,
He has found true peace.
He has extinguished
All taste for homely pleasures,
Resolute his will.
To become seeker,
He has given up the world.
Clear, he passes on.
Earth does not bind him,
Nor do pleasures from heaven,
For nought can bind him.
He gives up pleasure
And he gives up discontent
To find inner peace.
He knows in detail
How things rise and pass. Detached,
He sees the four truths.
His destination,
Neither gods nor men can know,
For he has woken.
He carries no past,
Nor waits no future in the
Undying present.
Fearless as a bull,
Noble, whole-hearted and pure,
He has conquered all.
He knows former lives,
He sees into all the worlds,
His line is ending.
But he’s exalted
Beyond heaven, beyond hell,
For he is awake.
He has accomplished
All that he had come to do
And now he is one.
