BUDDHISM IN THE CANADIAN ROCKIES
With the walk of an elephant, the peacock's dance occurred;
With the gait of a jackal, the snake coils;
With the bark of a dog, a fleabite occurred.
Seeing the flower in the sky,
Experiencing blue sky,
We are never intimidated by the world of yes and no.
Tangerines are said to be good to eat,
Kumquats are cute;
However, we drink nectar without salt or sugar.
Go away, children of mud, disperse.
Don't look upon me as your playmate;
I have no desire to have a mud bath.
Roaring lion on the mountains
Parrots talking double language
Rhododendrons blooming too early because the season is unreliable--
The range of Himalayan mountains can dissolve with the Vajrayana
All the oceans in the universe can dry up hearing the fantastic
Children, children, don't be afraid;
Come along and join us:
As has been said, "Gathering nuts in May."
We will celebrate and cherish our heritage.
Infants that do not need bottles or nappies,
We go along to the archery range
To see the whistling arrows that sometimes hit and sometimes miss
The impossibility of the possible can be achieved
At the archery ground of the playground.
Thick and grey clouds of rain and storm,
Desolate mountains which roar with avalanches
Solitary hotel stands in the midst of nowhere,
Swarmed with holiday-makers with their multicolored outfits and
Armed with cameras, uniformed with sunshades,
Complaining, "Where is the Lake Louise?"
Much to their own surprise,
Since they couldn't find delight anywhere, let alone in the Chateau
or the lake.
Canadian Rockies, extraordinary and blunt,
Decorated with snow caps and mist,
Proclaiming their dubious status range after range,
As if there were many weddings, but the couples never ate the cake;
As if there were many birthday celebrations, but the party is never
Ironic sensationalism of the Canadian Rockies,
Young and blunt, treacherous but keen:
Shaggy reindeer descending along with mountain goats,
Feasting themselves on the garbage of the towns of Field or Banff--
As long as they are protected by the so-called national parksmanship,
they are not hunted,
But at the same time they display subhuman immigrant greasy hair
and tarred hooves.
Sun and moon shone simultaneously in the Canadian Rockies,
But I never saw them cheering up;
In fact, they usually cry along with the mist and clouds,
Wiping their tears with the local dust,
Somebody planted toothpick trees:
They grew and got older, decorated with little thorns and cones,
Inviting the holiday-makers,
Putting up with broken bottles and empty cans,
As if they were Boy Scouts who had lost their breakfast, lunch and
How splendid the Canadian Rockies--godless, without worshippers.
One wonders how we found ourselves in these Canadian Rockies,
Practicing meditation according to the example of Milarepa and our
We were able to get into the cracks in the skeleton of the CP
They invited us because they had neither teeth nor veins to spare for
Thinking we might provide guts and fat and flesh for them.
How amazing that we could accommodate the Vajrayana world in
the midst of this agitated poverty and business world.
Usually the merchants have no teeth, but they have very sharp
They have no nails, but a tight grip.
Aren't we too brave? Sometimes I wonder.
Aren't we too cowardly? Sometimes I wonder.
Between the warrior and the coward, we find our path,
As lilies and frogs who never quarreled.
I take pride in the six smiles of the tiger
In this cuckooless world of North American atmosphere.
Spring never comes here, but autumn might be good;
In spite of the summer, we still take pleasure in the overwhelming
It is a good time to practice.
24 May 1979
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