Outstanding Mastery in Poetry and Music – H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Outstanding Mastery in Poetry and Music – H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

 H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III Wan Ko Yeshe Norbu Holiest Tathagata was awarded the title of “Master of Oriental Art” at year 1991. The representative presenting that award praised H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III for restoring the 5,000 year old culture of China. In 1994, the 5,612 experts and scholars representing forty-eight countries and regions at the World Poets and Culture Congress unanimously named H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III as a “Distinguished International Master.” However, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III did not want to accept such honors and continued making further contributions to mankind in a quiet and selfless manner.

 H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III  is selfless and noble, and the first person in Buddhism to possess substantive holy realization power of a Buddha and perfectly flawless accomplishments at the pinnacle of the Five Vidyas. One of the Five Vidyas is called Sabdavidys (sound vidya), including literature, poems, music, drama, etc. Here are few examples of his mastery in this field.

The poems of this ancient Buddha H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III, such as His qi jue poems (four-line poems with seven characters to a line and a strict tonal pattern and rhyme scheme) and qi lu poems (eight-line poems with seven characters to a line and a strict tonal pattern and rhyme scheme), retain the ancient poetic style and have reached a level on par with that of the ancient great poets. However, in the area of expressing philosophy, His Holiness’s poetry has surpassed the poetry of the ancient virtuous ones. It is self-evident that H.H. Wan Ko Yeshe Norbu Holiest Tathagata is truly the most outstanding master of Chinese poetry from ancient times to the present.

  After you are enraptured by poems of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha IIIand reflect on His poetic style, you will discover that H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III has reached the peak of perfection in both the hao fang and the wan yue styles. Those are the two major styles of the ci type of Chinese poetry. The hao fang style is bold and powerful, while the wan yue style is soft, elegant, and graceful.

  Take, for example, the bold and stirring ci type of poem entitled “To the Tune of Nian-Nu-Jiao.”(念奴嬌) It is an excellent poem due to its extensive and powerful spirit that moves the universe as well as its expansive and transcendent poetic perspective. You cannot find such an exceptional poem anywhere else in the world. In contrast, the ci type of poem entitled “To the Tune of Ye-Ban-Le”(夜半樂) has the feel of the enchanting moon on the Xiao and Xiang Rivers, the reflection of towering pagodas on the water, and the beautiful sound of a Chinese lute played under willow trees. How enrapturing, elegant, and charming that poem is!

  Actually, we lack the understanding to give an in-depth appraisal of the poetry of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III. However, we do know that writing poetry is a simple matter for this ancient Buddha and represents less than a drop of water in the vast ocean of His Holiness’s talents.

To the Tune of “Jiang Jun Song”

Plum Fragrance in the Holy Realm

Reveal her icy bearing and proud bones,

See how plum blossom commands the scene,

The crowd of beauties suddenly lacks color,

Seductive peach has lost its looks.

A few casual strokes,

So many eons of wind and dust.

The smoke and fire of the human world all disappears,

Leaving only a pure fragrance from the paper,

It wafts over me, awakening my mind.

The smile of the enchanted dream still remains,

Buddha Vajradhara has come

Three times to this world.

To this Buddha Land of merciful compassion

That great one has brought purity,

Feelings of the brush,

Traces of the brush,

One smile in the wind and dust,

Now the wind and dust,

So many eons of wind and dust.

To the Tune of “Jiang Jun Song”

Cold Harmony Heralds the Spring

I remember: myriad lofty peaks,

And scattered everywhere, sparkling gems of light,

The smile of cold fragrance,

Red plum trees hanging from the cliffs.

Unhurried, gentle,

Such feelings of tranquility.

Cliff walls and high valleys – where have they gone?

Now all I can see is a willow-like sway.

A few threads lightly float,

Moved by the west wind,

Suddenly I realize,

Cold clouds are heralding the spring,

And this contented mind,

Intoxicates the man,

Intoxicates the mind,

Self-possessed tranquility,

It seems like tranquility,

Such feelings of tranquility.

To the Tune of “Sheng Jun Tong”

A Painting on the Wall

This square wall

A vast, white space of nothing,

Ah, I see now,

A brilliant blaze in a grove of trees,

With not even a bird there.

Gaze in the distance,

Ai!

It is an ocean of self-nature in a garden,

With not even an insect there.

Ah, I see now,

There is no grove;

Ah, I see now,

There is no brilliant blaze,

Ai!

Where are the insects?

Ah, in fact,

Hanging on the wall,

A painting,

Colored ink,

Vermilion paste,

And a few brushstrokes,

Ah, in fact,

I am roaming in a dream,

From whence does the dream come?

Ah, do not cling to it,

There is no wall;

Ah, do not cling to it,

There is no painting.

Ai!

Roaming thoughts should not be,

Should not be.

To the Tune of “Ling Jun Hui”

Heralding Spring in the Wondrous

Realm

Dark figure of a tree,

Light, refined blossoms,

Bewitches a myriad peaks,

How many times has cold fragrance come?

The scent rises in your nose,

As a most cherished memory

Mysteriously reveals her graceful bearing,

She is here again to herald the spring.

It is in this way,

Plum greets the spring,

That parting will come soon matters not,

For now perfume wafts through the Wondrous Realm.

Photo by Tabitha Mort on Pexels.com

To the Tune of “Ying Ge Chun”

A Plum That Grows Tall and Strong

The herald of spring, where does she sleep?

Ah, cold harmony before the window,

Midnight dreams of branches beneath a drunken moon

Ah, she returns after roaming in vast space.

Roaming thoughts,

And a return to the great world.

Drifts of fragrance wind around pavilion and hall,

Returning emptiness,

As before, to the great world.

Open the window,

Graceful she stands,

There is a plum tree,

Growing tall and strong,

Growing tall and strong.

To the Tune of “Ying Ge Chun”

Strong Feelings in the Scroll

On the paper, this shade of pink,

Ah, who can guess its real color?

Next to her, all the flower queens are slaves,

Ah, alluring brows and vermilion ink songs.

Ah, she remains here in the painting,

Until the guest comes.

Tenderness everywhere heralds the dawn of spring,

Ah, the guest has gone,

Yet later will come again.

Ah, gaze in the distance,

Breaths of cold harmony,

Ah, the perfume of the plum,

Tenderness in the scroll,

Tenderness in the scroll.

To the Tune of “Pu Sa Mahn”

Mind Realm

One dark, one pale, a pair of buds grow on the

branches

Light green, dark green, samadhi nourishes the world

Following karma, you lightly dance and float,

Immutably still, yourself an ancient Buddha.

You ask about the color of the plum blossom?

It is learning contained in virtue.

Wait until it is plucked, and without bonds

Then freely hold it and turn it in your hands.

To the Tune of “Wang Hai Chao”

The Plum Greets All Beings

The frozen purity of a jade grove

The startled soul of space

Spreads out far to east and west.

Cold fragrance, down of pink,

And though only a single spray of blossoms,

Loveliness greater than any mood,

So time itself becomes a mulberry dream.

Look: wind and bone expressed in ink,

In ten-thousand ages it will never fade.

The compassion of an ancient Buddha,

Captivates all beings, and brings them to truth.

Color artistry, free and graceful,

Powerful brushstrokes crossing vast space,

An atmosphere of erudition,

These words and paintings, year after year,

Bring constant blessings,

The auspiciousness of plum blossoms.

Look: within is a mysterious power,

Which I offer to the ten-thousand ages,

From the brush, an elegant air.

Just look at delightful spring color,

And all beings will enter holiness.

Vocal Mastery

His Holiness is also a vocalist whose songs are unique masterpieces. Whether singing in a robust, resonant, stirring, and thunderous manner, or in a quietly elegant, floating, light, sweet, and captivating manner, His Holinesss vocal performances are marvelous and heavenly. His Holinesss songs and lyrics contain true Buddha-dharma. They teach goodness, impart wisdom, and benefit people. Moreover, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III composes the melody, writes the lyrics, and sings these songs all by Himself. There are many audiotapes and CDs of these songs. Even expert vocalists have sought the guidance of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III on singing. An example of this is a disciple of H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III by the name of Jacky Cheung, who is known as a tremendous singer.

#DorjeChangBuddhaIII#HHDorjeChangBuddhaIII#Poetry#Vocal #Buddha #Buddhism #buddhist #Music#BuddhaDharma#MasterofOrientalArt#DistinguishedInternationalMaster

Outstanding Mastery in Poetry and Music – H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2022/05/20/outstanding-mastery-in-poetry-and-music-h-h-dorje-chang-buddha-iii/

Soure: https://truebuddhas.org/en/classical-poetry-and-songs/

Poems of the Legendary Hermit Cold Mountain (Hanshan)

Poems of the Legendary Hermit Cold Mountain (Hanshan)

Photo by Denis Linine on Pexels.com

Cold Mountain (Hanshan) was a legendary master of Hermetic poetry and Zen practice, although there are few records about his life in the history. Yet his poems, more than three hundred pieces, miraculously survived. He lived in southeastern China during the Tang dynasty, approximately 1300 years ago. People said that Hanshan was the incarnation of Manjushri Bodhisattva. His poems are full of inner realization wisdom. I am really surprised that there are many English versions of his poems. There are even some podcasts to narrate the poems for the audience. I do hope that different cultures can learn from each other, adapting the good parts from each other. Let us work together to make the world a better place for all beings.

Based on the hundreds of poems he wrote on the walls of the cave where he made his home after leaving behind what he called “the dusty world” of getting, spending and delusion, so he could spend his life in the natural world with his heart and mind uninterrupted by such distractions, as his poem said : “with nothing to do I write poems on rock walls/trusting the current like an unmoored boat.” Hanshan found that he was often able to put an end to what he called “useless mixed-up thinking” and enjoy a good measure of peace and tranquility as a “person of nondoing” who wandered in the mountains, idly read a copy of an ancient sage, or played his humble lute on the precipice outside his cave.

Living a life unhindered by worldly concerns, much of Hanshan’s beautifully imagined poetry is filled with compassionate discernment, profound tranquility, and a quiet but compelling purity of unexpected insight. But that is not all. The hermit-poet known as Hanshan discovered that it is not as easy to leave the world behind as one might think. Decades of solitude and wandering brought forward other elements from the full depth of his humanity, and so his poems also express his loneliness, longing for a companion of the way, sorrow at the loss of friends, as well as an occasional biting critique of the many ways his fellow human beings created harm in the world, though it must be said that even in these poems there is a compassion that reveals Hanshan’s deepest longing for others to know the wholeness, serenity and peace he experienced within his tender and all too human heart.

Here are some poems translated by Gary Snyder

1.

Men ask the way to Cold Mountain
Cold Mountain: there’s no through trail.
In summer, ice doesn’t melt
The rising sun blurs in swirling fog.
How did I make it?
My heart’s not the same as yours.
If your heart was like mine
You’d get it and be right here.

2.

Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
The wide creek, the mist blurred grass.
The moss is slippery, though there’s been no rain
The pine sings, but there’s no wind.
Who can leap the world’s ties
And sit with me among the white clouds?

3.

In my first thirty years of life
I roamed hundreds and thousands of miles.
Walked by rivers through deep green grass
Entered cities of boiling red dust.
Tried drugs, but couldn’t make Immortal;
Read books and wrote poems on history.
Today I’m back at Cold Mountain:
I’ll sleep by the creek and purify my ears.

4.

I can’t stand these bird songs
Now I’ll go rest in my straw shack.
The cherry flowers are scarlet
The willow shoots up feathery.
Morning sun drives over blue peaks
Bright clouds wash green ponds.
Who knows that I’m out of the dusty world
Climbing the southern slope of Cold Mountain?

5.

There’s a naked bug at Cold Mountain
With a white body and a black head.
His hand holds two book scrolls,
One the Way and one its Power.
His shack’s got no pots or oven,
He goes for a long walk with his shirt and pants askew.
But he always carries the sword of wisdom:
He means to cut down senseless craving.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

6.

Cold Mountain is a house
Without beams or walls.
The six doors left and right are open
The hall is sky blue.
The rooms all vacant and vague
The east wall beats on the west wall
At the center nothing.
Borrowers don’t bother me
In the cold I build a little fire
When I’m hungry I boil up some greens.
I’ve got no use for the kulak
With his big barn and pasture –
He just sets up a prison for himself.
Once in he can’t get out.
Think it over –
You know it might happen to you.

7.

If I hide out at Cold Mountain
Living off mountain plants and berries –
All my lifetime, why worry?
One follows his karma through.
Days and months slip by like water,
Time is like sparks knocked off flint.
Go ahead and let the world change –
I’m happy to sit among these cliffs.

8.

My home was at Cold Mountain from the start,
Rambling among the hills, far from trouble.
Gone, and a million things leave no trace
Loosed, and it flows through galaxies
A fountain of light, into the very mind –
Not a thing, and yet it appears before me:
Now I know the pearl of the Buddha nature
Know its use: a boundless perfect sphere.

Poems of the Legendary Hermit Cold Mountain (Hanshan)

#ChinesePoems#LegendaryHermit#Hanshan#ColdMountain#Zen#HermeticPoetry#ChineseCulture

Link: https://peacelilysite.com/2022/05/05/poems-of-the-legendary-hermit-cold-mountain-hanshan/

Source: https://www.upaya.org/2020/06/levitt-tanahashi-poetry-legendary-hermit-hanshan-7-parts/ poems from https://www.writewww.com/topic.php?tkey=1309068539&theme_id=1388