Spontaneous Poetry
of the Vidyadhara Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche
0ne never knew what might inspire a session of
spontaneous poetry by the Vidyadhara, or at what
time of day or night. Vajrayana transmission at
the 1979 Vajradhatu Seminary was such an occasion,
and a few invited guests, who joined Rinpoche in
his upstairs sitting room at Chateau Lake Louise
following this teaching, were in for a treat. Though
it was not unusual for Rinpoche to spend time writing
poetry, this had been a year of much instruction
for his students in the composition of spontaneous
songs expressing one's realization, known as dohas
in Sanskrit. The Vajrayogini practitioners, in particular,
had been encouraged to write group dohas in the
context of their feast practice.
John Rockwell, the only translator present among
the guests, recalls it being quite a late night.
At first Rinpoche was very quiet. Then, he began
to say a word in Tibetan, like "soma,"
indicating for John to offer a translation, "fresh."
After a bit more of this, the Vidyadhara began to
compose a poem, which he did in Tibetan by writing
this down on a sheet of notebook paper, using the
most handy writing instrument nearby—a rather
crude marking pen. John proceeded to translate the
poem, with the Vidyadhara's participation, and then
this was shared with the assembled group. A number
of dohas sprang forth that night, and their immediate
vividness, mixed with the necessity for translation
on the spot, continued the quality of that evening's
transmission quite wonderfully.
Simplicity, free from conceptual mind,
Dawns as one taste, fresh relaxed.
Seeing nothing but That
Is the ordinary mind.
Spontaneously composed by the
Vidyadhara Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche.
Vajradhatu Seminary, Lake Louise, Alberta, 26 May
1979.
Original Tibetan reproduced in the Vidyadhara's
hand.
© 1979 by
the Nālandā Translation Committee
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A cripple runs on the primordial plain.
A mute proclaims the dharma of prajna.
A deaf man listens to the command of mahayana.
At that time, mahamudra arises.
Saraha bursts out laughing.
The only father guru is very pleased.
Chögyam is drunk with the liquor of one
taste.
At that time, a ganachakra occurs.
At that time, Marpa Lotsawa laughs.
From the suchness of the fourth abhisheka,
The transcendent world manifests.
No dharma, no source of dharma,
No existence, no manifestation of existence,
The dakini who devours the three worlds,
I pay homage to you who dry up the ocean.
Because I have no father or mother,
I always dwell alone.
Because I have no friends,
I am always surrounded by mirage friends.
These friends are like a treacherous pathway.
These parents are like poisonous food.
I am without friends or parents.
Always joyful, cultivating disciples,
I take delight in cultivating the dharma kingdom.
Getting old, still I grow younger.
26 May 1979
Vajradhatu Seminary, Chateau Lake Louise
© 1979 by the Nālandā Translation
Committee
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In particular, my teacher had nurtured
me with maitri in accord with the dharma.
When I thought again and again of how great his
kindness had been,
At first there arose a great feeling of sadness,
But then even the finest hairs of suffering dissolved
into the natural state.
I rested in the wisdom mind of the guru,
Who bestowed a rain of blessings right there.
Excerpt from Light Rays of the Sun and Moon
an autobiographical doha by
Trungpa Rinpoche, on the occasion of learning of
the death
of one of his teachers, Rolpe Dorje.
© 2001 by
the Nālandā Translation Committee
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