Τετάρτη, 22 Ιουλίου 2009

zen poems of ikkyu "crazy cloud"

A Woman's Sex
It has the original mouth but remains wordless;
It is surrounded by a magnificent mound of hair.
Sentient beings can get completely lost in it
But it is also the birthplace of all the Buddhas of the ten thousand
worlds.

Rinzai's disciples never got the Zen message,
But I, the Blind Donkey, know the truth:
Love play can make you immortal.
The autumn breeze of a single night of love is better than a hundred
thousand years of
sterile sitting meditation. . .

Stilted koans and convoluted answers are all monks have,
Pandering endlessly to officials and rich patrons.
Good friends of the Dharma, so proud, let me tell you,
A brothel girl in gold brocade is worth more than any of you.

Emerging from the world's grime, a puritan saint is still nowhere near a
Buddha.
Enter a brothel once and Great Wisdom will explode upon you.
Manjushri should have let Ananda enjoy himself in the whorehouse =E2=80=93
Now he will never know the joys of elegant love play.

A sex-loving monk, you object!
Hot-blooded and passionate, totally aroused.
Remember, though, that lust can consume all passion,
Transmuting base metal into pure gold.

The lotus flower
Is unstained by mud;
This single dewdrop,
Just as it is,
Manifests the real body of truth.

Follow the rule of celibacy blindly and you are no more than an ass;
Break it and you are only human.
The spirit of Zen is manifest in ways countless as the sands of the
Ganges.
Every newborn is a fruit of the conjugal bond.

For how many aeons have secret blossoms been budding and fading?
With a young beauty, sporting in deep love play;
We sit in the pavilion, a pleasure girl and this Zen monk.
Enraptured by hugs and kisses,
I certainly don't feel as if I am burning in hell

The Stick of Zen
Sexual love can be so painful when it is deep,
Making you forget even the best prose and poetry.
Yet now I experience a heretofore unknown natural joy,
The delightful sound of the wind soothing my thoughts.

Poem Presented to My Friend Ako at the Hot Spring
It is nice to get a glimpse of a lady bathing=E2=80=94
You scrubbed your flower face and cleansed your lovely body
While this old monk sat in the hot water,
Feeling more blessed than even the emperor of China!
When we parted, it broke my heart;
Her powdered cheeks were more beautiful than spring flowers.
My lovely miss is now with another,
Singing the same love song but to a different tune.=20

2 σχόλια:

  1. Βρε Γιώργη, γιατί δεν μεταφράζεις το ποίημα; Απευθύνεσαι μόνο σε Αγγλομαθείς; Οι υπόλοιποι; Δεν αξίζουν να μετέλθουν της σοφίας που γίνεσαι κοινωνός; Είμαι η Ζωή από το φατσοβιβλίο

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