First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungpa

The impulse to believe the absurd when presented with the unknowable is called religion. Whether this is wise or unwise is the domain of doctrine. Once you understand someone's doctrine, you understand their rationale for believing the absurd. At that point, it may no longer seem absurd. You can get to both sides of this conondrum from here.

Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:44 am

APHORISMS

Image

You bought it from your father, you sold it to your mother,
You shared the profit with friends;
Thieves can't steal this wealth--
Your family heirloom is arrogance.

*

When the scholar's head rots
His nose becomes deaf.
It's the fault of the blind students
Who fail to see his head.

*

The lecture of the newly appointed teacher
Sounds like a general's orders.
It's the fault of the senior students
For asking profound questions.

*

Mistaking a charlatan for a savior
And offering him one's life with blind faith
Is like falling asleep on a borrowed horse:
The horse will return to its owner.

*

The restless poet who composes
A verse in praise of mountain solitude
Is like a criminal turned judge
Writing a textbook on law.

*

The insight which transcends mind
And the mind which activates awareness
Are like a healthy youth
Who has good eyes and legs.

2 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:45 am

THE NAMELESS CHILD

There is a mountain of gold. When the sun's rays strike it, it is irritating to look at. It is surrounded by red, green, yellow orange, pink and liver-colored clouds, wafted gently by the wind. Around the mountain fly thousands of copper-winged birds with silver heads and iron beaks. A ruby sun rises in the East and a crystal moon sets in the West. The whole earth is covered with pearl-dust snow. Upon it a luminous child without a name instantaneously comes into being.

The golden mountain is dignified, the sunlight is blazing red.
Dreamlike clouds of many colors float across the sky.
In the place where iron birds croak,
The instantaneously born child can find no name.

Because he has no father, the child has no family line. Because he has no mother, he has never tasted milk. Because he has neither brother nor sister, he has no one to play with. Having no house to live in, he cannot find a crib. Since he has no nanny, he has never cried. There is no civilization, so he cannot find toys. Since there is no point of reference, he doesn't know a self. He has never heard spoken language, so he has never experienced fear.

The child walks in every direction, but does not come across anything. He sits down slowly on the ground. Nothing happens. The colorful world seems sometimes to exist and sometimes not. He gathers a handful of pearl dust and lets it trickle through his fingers. He gathers another handful and slowly takes it into his mouth. Hearing the pearl dust crunch between his teeth, he gazes at the ruby sun setting and the crystal moon rising. Suddenly, a whole galaxy of stars wondrously appears and he lies on his back to admire their patterns. The nameless child falls into a deep sleep, but has no dreams.

The child's world has no beginning or end.
To him, colors are neither beautiful nor ugly.
The child's nature has no preconceived notion of birth and death.
The golden mountain is solid and unchanging,
The ruby sun is all-pervading,
The crystal moon watches over millions of stars
The child exists without preconceptions.

3 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:45 am

THE MYTH OF FREEDOM

An intelligent and highly emotional young man, disliking the hustle and bustle of the city and the impositions of friends and relatives, decided to leave. He set out on foot and soon found himself crossing pleasant valleys and woods. He found a solitary and peaceful spot and decided to settle there. He enjoyed the sight of wild animals roaming freely, and flocks of birds.

As the moonlight of peace and solitude spreads,
Wild animals roam free and harmless.
The wild flowers and trees are glamorous,
The scent of herbs is pervasive.
Who wouldn't take delight in this solitude, worthy to be praised
by Brahma?

At times the young man dwelling in solitude is full of joy, at times he is afraid. Sometimes he has thoughts of the city and the years spent with his relatives and friends. Sometimes he feels uncomfortable at being in the mountain emptiness and becomes afraid that wild animals will attack him. He has ample supplies of food, but still he has the constant fear of running out. He has looked at the delightful landscape too long, and now it appears irritatingly monotonous. The tuneful song of the birds becomes mocking. He can't get to sleep at night, so he feels very tired during the day, and the boundary between waking experience and dream becomes fuzzy. Altogether, he suffers continually from paranoia and daydreams, and doesn't know what to do. He is imprisoned in his own projections.

The external projection is empty of good and bad,
The internal fixation of hope and fear imprisons.
Truth and falsehood are at war.
The simple-minded child is wounded by the arrow of confusion.

Sometimes he thinks of returning to the city and sometimes he thinks of hiding in the nearest village. He just wants to leave the desolate countryside. Finally, he ties his things into a bundle and goes back to the city. He meets his friends and relatives, but the fear he felt in his desolate retreat continues to haunt him. Sometimes he sees his friends and relatives as illusory maidens dancing, and sometimes as a threatening army. In the midst of such uncertainty, he wishes he could find a friend with whom to discuss the whole thing. But he doesn't know how to find a friend who is not an illusion. So the young man tries to find the boundary between illusion and reality.

When the endless illusory plot is all-pervading,
The folly of mind's limitless duplicity is uncovered.
By running away from friends you discover illusory friends.
Friends manifesting as enemies is the nature of illusion;
By projecting your duplicity on others you lose your own
ground.
The friend who is not an illusory projection is found in
yourself.

5 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:45 am

HAIKU

The beginner in meditation
Resembles a hunting dog
Having a bad dream.

***

His parents are having tea
With his new girlfriend--
Like a general inspecting the troops.

***

Skiing in a red and blue outfit,
Drinking cold beer with a lovely smile--
I wonder if I'm one of them?

***

Coming home from work,
Still he hears the phone
Ringing in the office.

***

Gentle day's flower--
The hummingbird competes
With the stillness of the air.

7 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:46 am

THE RED FLAG FLIES

The red flag flies above the Potala,
The people of Tibet are drowned in an ocean of blood;
A vampire army fills the mountains and plains,
But self-existing dignity never wanes.

10 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:46 am

THE SWORD OF HATRED

The sword of hatred is ornamented with the handle of invasion,
A red star has imprisoned the sun and moon,
The high snow-peaked mountains are cloaked in the darkness of a
poisonous wind;
The peaceful valleys have been shattered by the sound of artillery.
But the dignity of the Tibetan people competes with the glory of the
sky.

10 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:47 am

SILK ROAD

Image

A herd of sheep roam on the meadows ornamented with turquoise
flowers;
The crow caws on the pine branch, conversing easily with the magpie.
Flags flutter on a cairn, on a red rock peak where vultures nest.
From a black tent amidst dark old yak folds smoke rises gently,
And the conches and drums of invited lamas echo in the distance--
Irrepressibly happy and sad to see the highlands of the snow land
Tibet.

Traveling, listening to the whistling wind, crossing thousands of
ridges but still not seeing the end of the earth;
Irritated by the gossip of the brooks, crossing thousands of rivers but
still not reaching the end of the sky;
Never reaching the goal of the nomad's black tent in the distance--
It is too tiring for the horses and mules: better to pitch our tent
where pasture, water and firewood are plentiful.

10 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:47 am

TIBETAN PILGRIM

On the right, a mountain with juniper trees--at its foot a farmhouse
topped with white prayer flags--is like a minister on a tigerskin seat.
On the left, a mountain covered with tamarisk trees--at its foot a
farm filled with beautiful green wheat and barley--is like a queen
on a silken throne.
Straight ahead, a rocky mountain rises above a monastery with
glittering gold roofs like a king on a throne of gold.
An old pilgrim feasts his eyes on the richness of some merchant's
camp, and patiently continues towards Lhasa.

10 November 1972
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:47 am

TRANS WORLD AIR

On perfecting the Sky Dance
Naropa wore out Doctrine
Metal mirror polished now
Syllable Ah's image shines
Young moon searches out a Love
Hearing raven croak caw caw
Snowy mountain's song echoes
Raising dusty golden mists--
Better drop your iron pants.

29 October 1973
Translated from the Tibetan by the
author and Allen Ginsberg
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Re: First Thought Best Thought, 108 Poems, by Chogyam Trungp

Postby admin » Wed Jun 17, 2015 4:47 am

A FLOWER IS ALWAYS HAPPY

A flower is always happy because it is beautiful
Bees sing their song of loneliness and weep
A waterfall is busy hurrying to the ocean
A poet is blown by the wind.

A friend without inside or outside
And a rock that is not happy or sad
Are watching the winter crescent moon
Suffering from the bitter wind.

2 February 1974
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