Eastern
Paul Reps: Weightless Gifts
by SooZen Lee on Tuesday, July 13, 2004 12:56 pm"I feel that I am equal to each grass blade and pebble and believe it is possible to be happy though human and grow up. Paul Reps
Paul Reps was born in Cedar City, Iowa on September 15, 1895. A man that always felt there were too many words used to describe anything he was a master of minimalist haiku, Zen Buddhism, and swift sumi-e brush painting. Reps can truly be called the father of Buddhism and haiku in America. He never was caught up in tradition, breaking all that are now considered the haiku rules and, although he respected his teachers, he forged new paths. Always, in his wide travels, Paul was accompanied by his humor, wit and independent spirit. As Paul would say, If not fun, leave undone.
Paul Reps was born in Cedar City, Iowa on September 15, 1895. A man that always felt there were too many words used to describe anything he was a master of minimalist haiku, Zen Buddhism, and swift sumi-e brush painting. Reps can truly be called the father of Buddhism and haiku in America. He never was caught up in tradition, breaking all that are now considered the haiku rules and, although he respected his teachers, he forged new paths. Always, in his wide travels, Paul was accompanied by his humor, wit and independent spirit. As Paul would say, If not fun, leave undone.
The Themes of Faiz
by Afzal Mirza on Wednesday, December 17, 2003 10:40 am
In his book Dast-e-tah-e-sang Ahmad Faiz of India writes:
"I don't know the reason why I wrote poetry but it could be the environment of my childhood in which much was talked about poetry and there was inducement by friends and heart-related affairs. I am talking about the first part of Naqsh-e-Faryadi which carries my writings of the period 1924-25 to 1928-29. Those were my student days. These verses are the outcome of the intellectual and emotional experience gained by every young man of that age. But now when I look back I find that it was not a single period rather there were two periods with different subjective and objective experiences. The period between 1920 and 1930 was the period of a strange carelessness, contentment and emotional confusion. Besides serious discussion about important national and political movements in our poetry and prose most of us would write as if indulging in frivolities."
In this excerpt, Faiz is referring to the period in which Hasrat Mohani, Josh, Hafeez Jullundhari and Akhtar Sheerani were the great names in the realm of Urdu poetry. In the first part of Naqsh-e-Faryadi one can observe their influence. Some ghazals and poems such as Intiha-e-kaar, Akhiri Khat, Intezaar, Khuda wo waqt na laye, Mere Nadeem etc. can be cited as examples. However, according to Faiz, that period did not last long because the country came under the cloud of economic depression. These changed circumstances cast a gloom on his poetry which is evident from the last few poems of the first part of Naqash-e-Faryadi.
In 1934, Faiz completed his studies and in 1935 joined M.A.O. College Amritsar as a lecturer. It is here that Faiz met Sahibzada Mahmuduz Zafar and his enlightened wife Dr. Rashid Jahan. Both husband and wife were among the pioneers of a progressive writers movement in India. The young Indian writers studying in London in the mid-thirties were enormously inspired by the Communist Revolution in Russia, and this led to the birth of this literary movement. The Association was formally founded in Lucknow in 1936 in a meeting of the writers and intellectuals in which Syed Sajjad Zaheer -- one of the members of the London group along with Sahibzada Mahmuduz Zafar and Dr. Rashid Jahan -- were present.
The main objective of the PWA was to create social awareness among the common man through literature so as to help establish a progressive social order in the country. Faiz writes that the singular important lesson from participation in the movement was that "it is not possible rather it is aimless to detach oneself from his environment. The writer should therefore highlight the experience of the life of a common man in its true reality." Faiz became active in this movement and the second part of Naqshe Faryadi depicts the change in his thinking, such as in the poems "Mujh se pehli si muhabbat mere mahboob na mang", "Soch", "Chand roz aur meri jan", "Kutte", "Bol keh lab azaad haen tere", "Mauzu-e-sukhan" and "Shahrah". Thus begins the period of Faiz's poetry with a purpose.
Naqash-e-Faryadai was published in 1941 and eleven years later Dast-e-Saba appeared. In 1952, Faiz was imprisoned in Hyderabad Jail along with other prisoners accused for conspiring to overthrow the government of Nawabzada Liaquat Ali Khan. The group accused of conspiracy was led by Major General Akbar Khan and some other senior army officers but among the outsiders involved were Faiz and Syed Sajjad Zaheer, the secretary general of Communist Party of Pakistan. The idea behind having these two gentlemen in the group was to facilitate the recognition of the new government by Soviet Russia. The period between Naqsh-e-Faryadai and Dast-e-Saba (1940-1952) was of great political turmoil in India. Not only the world saw the emergence of the phenomenon called Fascism but a world war was fought and won by the Allied forces against this menace. Since Soviet Russia was allied with America and England in World War II, the leftist elements throughout the world joined the Allied efforts against Fascist forces. In order to play his role in this direction, Faiz served the British army from June 1942 to December 1946.
During this period, the Indian independence movement also entered a crucial stage. The Muslims of the subcontinent demanded a separate nation, Pakistan, which became a reality in 1947. After leaving the army, Faiz took over as the Chief Editor of the Pakistan Times. Besides the poems Faiz wrote in incarceration, Dast-e-Saba also carries some poems of the period 1940 to 1951.
Although all the Faiz poems written in prison depict the poet's extreme sensibility characterized by prison environment, there are four thematic poems written on different subjects that deserve special mention. In the poem "Ai dil-e-betaab thehr", Faiz used the word teeragi (darkness) for the advent of Fascism and expressed his usual optimism: Subh hone ko hae ai dil-e- betaab thehr (Dawn is round the corner. Be patient my heart).
Another poem, "Ek Siyasi Leader ke Naam" ("To A Politician") was addressed to Mahatma Gandhi. Gandhi's stand on world war surprised all those who considered Hitler and Mussolini's Fascism as a great menace for the world. Gandhi proposed that "Allies should invite Hitler and Mussolini to take what they want of the countries Allies called their possession." Advocating his philosophy of pacifism, Gandhi wrote to the British: "Let them take possession of your beautiful island with its many beautiful buildings. You will give all this but neither your minds nor you souls."
Faiz wrote:
"Tujh ko manzoor nahin ghalba-e-zulmat lekin
Tujh ko manzoor hae yeh hath qalam ho jaen
Aur mashriq ki kamingah mein dharakta hua din
Raat ki ahni mayyat ke tale dab jae"
(You don't like that the darkness conquers everything
But you want that these hands are chopped off
And the Day that pulsates in the hideout of East
Gets buried under the steely corpse of night.)
A third poem, 'Subh-e-Azaadi', was written on India's day of independence. Faiz was moved by the events that preceded and followed the partition of India, in which millions perished or were made to leave their homes in destitution. All this suffering brought more misery to the common man. Faiz declared it "a blotted light and night-bitten morn." Later events proved the correctness of the poet's vision.
A fourth poem is addressed to the Iranian students who fell victims to the brute show of force by the Iranian monarch after the unsuccessful bid of Dr Mossadegh to topple him. It is a moving poem full of pathos:
"Yeh kaun jawan haen arz-e-ajam
Yeh lak lut
Jin ke jismon ka kundan
Yun khak mein reza reza hae
(Who are these young men, O the land of Ajam
These large-hearted
The jewel of whose bodies
Is scattered on dust in pieces)"
The subsequent book, Zindan Nama (The Letter from Prison) was also the outcome of the same incarceration (1951-1954) and contained some of his famous poems on the subject of incarceration. It also carried a poem entitled "Ham jo tareek rahon mein mare gaye" ("We who were killed in dark pathways"). The poet here refers to the wave of McCarthyism in America that targeted the leftists and fellow travelers. Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were the leftist husband-and-wife team who were executed in America on made-up charges of espionage. The poem inspired by the letters of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg circulated throughout the world is full of intense patriotic feelings in a universal tone:
"Tere honton ke phoolon ki chahat mein ham
Dar ki khushk tehni pe dare gaye)
Terehathon ki shamaon ki hasrat mein ham
Neem tareek rahon mein mare gaye
(In love of the roses of your lips
We offered ourselves to the dry twig of gallows
Longing for the radiance of your glowing hands
We let ourselves be slain in half-lit pathways)""
Faiz's next book Dast-e-tahe Sang (Hand Under a Stone) was published in the early sixties. Besides his many other famous poems written during incarceration or otherwise it also carries the thematic poem "Aaj bazaar mein pa ba jaulan chalo" ("Let us walk with fetters in the street"). It was written in 1959 when Faiz was once again imprisoned under Ayub's martial law. He was taken to the Lahore Fort's torture cell passing through the streets of Lahore in a horse driven cart with his fetters on. Faiz's book Sar-e-wadi-e-Sina (In the valley of Sinai) was the outcome of his poems written between 1965 and 1971. The collection also includes two thematic poems, "Lahu ka Suragh" and "Zindan zindan shor-e-anal Haq" written on the occasion of the firing on the Karachi people protesting against the rigged election of Ayub Khan as president defeating Miss Jinnah, the sister of the founder of the country:
"Na mudai na shahadt hisab pak hua
Yeh khoon-e-khak nashinan tha rizq-e-khak hua
(Neither plaintiff nor witness but the decision was made
It was the blood of the wretched of the earth so it mingled with the earth)
Faiz wrote two poems about the September '65 war. One is called "Black Out" and the other is the dirge of a soldier killed in battle which begins with the verse "Utho ab mati se utho/Utho mere lal". The title poem "Sare-Wadi-e-Sina" is written on the occasion of the Arab-Israeli war of 1967. On the twentieth anniversary of the inception of Pakistan in 1967, he wrote his masterpiece poem, "Dua" ("Prayer"), a poem that jolts the sensibility of every reader. It is full of wishes that every common man of Pakistan aspires for.
Sham-e-Shehr Yaran is the next book. It carries various poems written during journeys abroad, some Punjabi poems and other poems written on request. The only poem on an event is "Dhaka se wapsi par" ("On Return from Dhaka"). Written in 1974, it begins with the verses:
"Ham keh thehre ajnabi itni mudaraton ke baad
Phir banenge aashna kitni mulaqaton ke baad
Kab nazar mein ayegi bedagh sabze ki bahar
Khoon ke dhabbe dhulein ge kitni barsaaton ke baad
(We who became strangers after so much expression of affection
After how many meetings shall become friends again
When shall we see the beauty of blotless verdure?
How many monsoons will wash out the patches of blood from it?)"
His last two short books "Mere Dil Mere Musafair" (1978-1980) and "Ghubare Ayyam" (1981-1984) contain poems written in exile. After Ziaulhaq imposed martial law in the country Faiz spent most of his time in Beirut and abroad. In Beirut he edited Afro-Asian Writers Journal Lotus an assignment given to him by his friend Yasser Arafat. These two books carry most of his writings relating to civil war in Beirut and Palestinian cause. Besides the titled poem "Dil-e-Man Musafir-e-Man" that describes the emotions of a person in exile there are some thematic poems related to the Pakistan's political scenario resulting from Ziaulhaq's tyrannical dispensation. "Teen Awazain",
"Yeh Matam-e-waqt ki gharri hae" and "Ham to majboor-e-wafa haen" represent the current situation. The last one is written on the execution of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto:
Tujh ko kitnon ka lahu chahie ai arz-e-watan
Jo tere aarz-e-be rang ko gulnaar karein
(The blood of how many people you require my country
To impart flowerlike tinge to your colorless face)
In a poem in Ghubar-e-Ayyam entitled "Idhar na dekho", Faiz castigated those writers and intellectuals who were sold to the regime and compared them with those who "decorating their bodies with the cross of truth left the world and are now prophets among the people."
Han Shan
by Jim MacDiarmid on Wednesday, December 4, 2002 04:36 pmClambering 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?
-Han Shan (Cold Mountain)
In 1954, in a scene he described in his book, "The Dharma Bums," (pp 18-21) Jack Kerouac visited the Berkley shack of his new friend and Ur-Dharma Bum, Gary Snyder and found him translating the poems of an obscure Chinese poet named Han Shan, or Cold Mountain. Snyder told Kerouac about this "Chinese scholar who got sick of the big city and the world and took off to hide in the mountains", writing poems on rocks and bamboo and the sides of cliffs. Kerouac became so enthralled with Cold mountain that he dedicated The Dharma Bums to him when it was published in 1958. Read just a few of the 300 poems found written down on the bamboo and rocks and boulders of the mountain where he made his home, and it is not difficult to see how Cold Mountain would appeal to these two bhiku wanderers. Scenes abound of frustrations with the modern world, loneliness, leaving the manic world behind for mountaintop solitudes; wind blowing through pine trees; clouds touching mountain and tree tops; clear running streams flowing into jade colored lakes. Strong Buddhist and Taoist themes run through the poems of Han Shan, and unlike many Chinese poets of his time who often used just Buddhism as and embellishment in their work, Cold Mountain's poems show a deep understanding of both Buddhism and Taoism. Both Buddhists and Taoists often try to claim Cold Mountain as their own, but in his poems, he often delighted in poking fun at the pretensions of both traditions and seems to have considered himself a layman at best, a man of independent spirituality.
Biographical details of Cold Mountain are few and far between. Any details about his life must be gathered from his poems and the few mythic stories surrounding his existence. Chinese scholar and Cold Mountain translator Red Pine estimates Cold Mountain lived from 730-850 during the Tang Dynasty. He was born into some level of privilege and may have been a gentleman farmer and some sort of minor official in the grand bureaucracy of imperial China. At some point he was married. Eventually he became disaffected with society and left the world at 30 to make his home in the Tien-Tai Mountains at a place called Cold Cliff. He may or may not have become a monk. His physical appearance in drawings make him look like a template for the Zen lunatic or hobo-saint: wild hair, birch bark hat, patched robe, big wooden clogs, gnarled staff and an unconventional manner interpreted by others as craziness. He had two companions; Big Stick (Feng-Kan) and Pick-Up (Shih-Teh). Big Stick was something of a renegade monk at Kuoching Temple, which Cold Mountain would often visit near his home at Cold Cliff. According to legend, Big Stick showed up one day at the temple gate on the back of a tiger, took up residence in the temple library, refused to shave his head, and came and went as he liked. Whenever he was asked about Buddhism, he would answer ?Whatever.? One day when he was out walking, Big Stick heard someone crying. He found a 10-year-old boy in the bushes who said he had been left their by his parents, so Big Stick picked him up and took him back to the temple. The monks tried to locate his parents but no one came forward to claim him, so he was named Pickup and placed in the care of the temple?s chief custodian in the temple hall and later in the kitchen, where he would often leave out food for Cold Mountain. Pickup and Cold Mountain became close companions and are often shown together, their pictures hanging in Chinese households a symbol of marital harmony.
These few things seem to be the only sure things about Cold Mountain. There are different stories as to how his poems, originally written down on bamboo, rocks, boulders and the walls of people?s houses came to be collected. The most popular one is this:
Lu-Ch?iu Yin, a prefect in Tan-Ch-iu, had a bad headache and after visiting a doctor it turned worse. He met Big Stick and Big Stick told him that sickness comes from illusion and he needed pure water to cure it. Someone brought the water to Big Stick and he spat it on Lu-Ch?iu Yin, who was instantly cured. He was impressed with Big Stick's wisdom and asked Big Stick if there were any wise men he could look upon as Master and Big Stick directed him to Kuoching. He told him that there he would find two men who look like poor fellows and act like madmen. They came and went and they worked in the kitchen, tending the fire. Lu-Chiu Yin journeyed to Kuoching and inquired about the two madmen. He was directed to the kitchen where he found Cold Mountain and Pickup. He bowed to them and Cold Mountain laughed and said "Big Stick-loose tongued. You don?t recognize Amitabha, why be courteous to us?" before he and Pickup ran out the temple gate. Lu-Ch'iu Yin was determined to see these to men properly taken care of, so after he returned home, he sent clean clothes, incense and food back, but when Cold mountain saw the packer approaching, he yelled "Thief! Thief!" and ran into a mountain cave which closed behind him and that was that last anyone saw of him. Hearing this, Lu-Chiu ordered the monks to find all the poems Cold Mountain had written and to collect them to be made into a book, and those poems are perhaps the best way to get to know the elusive figure of Cold Mountain.
Whoever has Cold Mountain?s poems
is better off with those than with sutras
write them up on your screen
and read them from time to time
-Han Shan (Cold Mountain)
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?
-Han Shan (Cold Mountain)
In 1954, in a scene he described in his book, "The Dharma Bums," (pp 18-21) Jack Kerouac visited the Berkley shack of his new friend and Ur-Dharma Bum, Gary Snyder and found him translating the poems of an obscure Chinese poet named Han Shan, or Cold Mountain. Snyder told Kerouac about this "Chinese scholar who got sick of the big city and the world and took off to hide in the mountains", writing poems on rocks and bamboo and the sides of cliffs. Kerouac became so enthralled with Cold mountain that he dedicated The Dharma Bums to him when it was published in 1958. Read just a few of the 300 poems found written down on the bamboo and rocks and boulders of the mountain where he made his home, and it is not difficult to see how Cold Mountain would appeal to these two bhiku wanderers. Scenes abound of frustrations with the modern world, loneliness, leaving the manic world behind for mountaintop solitudes; wind blowing through pine trees; clouds touching mountain and tree tops; clear running streams flowing into jade colored lakes. Strong Buddhist and Taoist themes run through the poems of Han Shan, and unlike many Chinese poets of his time who often used just Buddhism as and embellishment in their work, Cold Mountain's poems show a deep understanding of both Buddhism and Taoism. Both Buddhists and Taoists often try to claim Cold Mountain as their own, but in his poems, he often delighted in poking fun at the pretensions of both traditions and seems to have considered himself a layman at best, a man of independent spirituality.
Biographical details of Cold Mountain are few and far between. Any details about his life must be gathered from his poems and the few mythic stories surrounding his existence. Chinese scholar and Cold Mountain translator Red Pine estimates Cold Mountain lived from 730-850 during the Tang Dynasty. He was born into some level of privilege and may have been a gentleman farmer and some sort of minor official in the grand bureaucracy of imperial China. At some point he was married. Eventually he became disaffected with society and left the world at 30 to make his home in the Tien-Tai Mountains at a place called Cold Cliff. He may or may not have become a monk. His physical appearance in drawings make him look like a template for the Zen lunatic or hobo-saint: wild hair, birch bark hat, patched robe, big wooden clogs, gnarled staff and an unconventional manner interpreted by others as craziness. He had two companions; Big Stick (Feng-Kan) and Pick-Up (Shih-Teh). Big Stick was something of a renegade monk at Kuoching Temple, which Cold Mountain would often visit near his home at Cold Cliff. According to legend, Big Stick showed up one day at the temple gate on the back of a tiger, took up residence in the temple library, refused to shave his head, and came and went as he liked. Whenever he was asked about Buddhism, he would answer ?Whatever.? One day when he was out walking, Big Stick heard someone crying. He found a 10-year-old boy in the bushes who said he had been left their by his parents, so Big Stick picked him up and took him back to the temple. The monks tried to locate his parents but no one came forward to claim him, so he was named Pickup and placed in the care of the temple?s chief custodian in the temple hall and later in the kitchen, where he would often leave out food for Cold Mountain. Pickup and Cold Mountain became close companions and are often shown together, their pictures hanging in Chinese households a symbol of marital harmony.
These few things seem to be the only sure things about Cold Mountain. There are different stories as to how his poems, originally written down on bamboo, rocks, boulders and the walls of people?s houses came to be collected. The most popular one is this:
Lu-Ch?iu Yin, a prefect in Tan-Ch-iu, had a bad headache and after visiting a doctor it turned worse. He met Big Stick and Big Stick told him that sickness comes from illusion and he needed pure water to cure it. Someone brought the water to Big Stick and he spat it on Lu-Ch?iu Yin, who was instantly cured. He was impressed with Big Stick's wisdom and asked Big Stick if there were any wise men he could look upon as Master and Big Stick directed him to Kuoching. He told him that there he would find two men who look like poor fellows and act like madmen. They came and went and they worked in the kitchen, tending the fire. Lu-Chiu Yin journeyed to Kuoching and inquired about the two madmen. He was directed to the kitchen where he found Cold Mountain and Pickup. He bowed to them and Cold Mountain laughed and said "Big Stick-loose tongued. You don?t recognize Amitabha, why be courteous to us?" before he and Pickup ran out the temple gate. Lu-Ch'iu Yin was determined to see these to men properly taken care of, so after he returned home, he sent clean clothes, incense and food back, but when Cold mountain saw the packer approaching, he yelled "Thief! Thief!" and ran into a mountain cave which closed behind him and that was that last anyone saw of him. Hearing this, Lu-Chiu ordered the monks to find all the poems Cold Mountain had written and to collect them to be made into a book, and those poems are perhaps the best way to get to know the elusive figure of Cold Mountain.
Whoever has Cold Mountain?s poems
is better off with those than with sutras
write them up on your screen
and read them from time to time
-Han Shan (Cold Mountain)
Poetry in the Sikh Tradition
by durlabh on Wednesday, September 11, 2002 10:38 amOur universe is an intensely vast entity and it may be hard to find anywhere else, our kind of life.We may be the carriers of a unique kind of consciousness but which we are reluctant to explore fully. The field of our consciousness can be as vast as the universe.
Beside our personal and collective consciousness there may be other kinds of consciousnesses which we are reluctant to admit We always act from a very narrow egotistical point of view. Poetry is a way of looking from a broader viewpoint thus gaining access to wider realities of world and existence. It seems a sheer waste of life as to always live within narrow confines of purely rational life.
A worthy poet should be able to break the barriers of programmed living and of the trivial indulgences of our daily lives.
Poetry is not a dead entity of rhymed lines or blank versifications, of an exhausted mind bleeding under blows of cruel fate but is a defiant and energetic activity of human soul.
The greatness of human mind consist not simply in amassing wealth or fame but in discovering new worlds, in keeping with artistic dignity of human spirit and this greatness is not of space and time but of creative spirit and this vision gives significance to our fleeting mortal lives.
One category of metaphysics defines the absolute reality as 'emptiness' or 'nothingness' but we should not take it as being a vacuum for nihility but something beyond 'thingness'. We put a frame around everything and call it thingness. It just defines the boundaries of our understanding.
This shunyata is like the virgin sands on a sea shore after the tide have washed away all the scattered litter and sand castles. These sand castles may be defined as maya or illusion in popular sense but in deeper sense this very maya is the creative reality. The creation of world around us, which is to a large extent, is our own creation, a collective consciousness.
It becomes an illusion only when we hold on to past forms, the traditions, the hero worship of our idols or our efforts to keep the status quo, as inherited in our traditional attitudes. But this individual creative aspect of our conscience can become a poetical anomaly resulting in new awakening and liberation from mundane realities of our own making.
Sahib mera nit navan
Sada sada daata
My God is new everyday
He is the giver (of newness)
(Sikh Scriptures)
So God or reality is new everyday and we must keep pace with this newness. It is no use running away from daily flux and seek refuge in old forms or past experiences. One should be a creative warrior and fights the battles of life by producing works that resonate with our inner spirit. In our life there are certain premises where neither contemplation nor physical action can give full satisfaction but our heart cries for such creative vision.
Thus poetry becomes a way of action to keep up with the changing realities of time. Everything seems to be in a flux, we are born and die each moment. Poetry is that fixed position which is trying to keep its position on a moving platform. If we do not exert ourselves, we will be swept away.
Man lives by images. He cannot survive in a vacuum and fresher the images, the vital the life. Poetry gives an authenticity to our being. We must dig deeper within ourselves and search for those words which, when assembled in a verse, will illumine the dark recesses of mind.
Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth guru of Sikhs was such a person. He has been called a Sant Sipahi or Saint soldier, in other term he was a warrior poet of high distinction. He fought against tyranny and for human dignity for which he suffered greatly loosing all his possessions and even his family.
He was a great linguist and wrote poetry of high calibre. He made poetry into a way of action, which inspired his numerous followers so as to fight against injustices. According to him the chief virtues of a human being are courage and tenderness. The heart of tenderness which poetry can usher in and the courage to go forward inspite of all the defeats suffered on battlefields of life.
With daggers drawn and swords clashed of steel
With dauntless courage and linked suffering for feel
The merciful warrior forwarded amid fight and pity
For both his friends and foes
Now drenched in bloods of futility.
Frets and fears of egoism now laid aside
His only concern now became
To fight for the liberty of his mind
Not for diversions or for abandoned castled dearth
Not for the prized glory in the eyes of the world.
Driven to edge for his hatred of tyranny
He showered his message of dignity for all sundry
His hand extended for support without caste or creeds
Amid sanctity of sufferings and all hallowed deeds.
Scribing Bachittar Natak his dramatic verse
Wondrous play of nature amid works of divine
Worlds of action or of contemplation
Beyond the little thine or mine
In jungles of Trai & Machiwara his tortures confined.
Here where men hate and taste blood in consummation
Indifference in ignorance of vultured eliminations
Great loss of innocents of his sons he endured
Among bitter smites but his poise he secured
The Sant Sipahi then reluctantly took to his sword
To defend dignity of Hind against marauding hordes.
Beside our personal and collective consciousness there may be other kinds of consciousnesses which we are reluctant to admit We always act from a very narrow egotistical point of view. Poetry is a way of looking from a broader viewpoint thus gaining access to wider realities of world and existence. It seems a sheer waste of life as to always live within narrow confines of purely rational life.
A worthy poet should be able to break the barriers of programmed living and of the trivial indulgences of our daily lives.
Poetry is not a dead entity of rhymed lines or blank versifications, of an exhausted mind bleeding under blows of cruel fate but is a defiant and energetic activity of human soul.
The greatness of human mind consist not simply in amassing wealth or fame but in discovering new worlds, in keeping with artistic dignity of human spirit and this greatness is not of space and time but of creative spirit and this vision gives significance to our fleeting mortal lives.
One category of metaphysics defines the absolute reality as 'emptiness' or 'nothingness' but we should not take it as being a vacuum for nihility but something beyond 'thingness'. We put a frame around everything and call it thingness. It just defines the boundaries of our understanding.
This shunyata is like the virgin sands on a sea shore after the tide have washed away all the scattered litter and sand castles. These sand castles may be defined as maya or illusion in popular sense but in deeper sense this very maya is the creative reality. The creation of world around us, which is to a large extent, is our own creation, a collective consciousness.
It becomes an illusion only when we hold on to past forms, the traditions, the hero worship of our idols or our efforts to keep the status quo, as inherited in our traditional attitudes. But this individual creative aspect of our conscience can become a poetical anomaly resulting in new awakening and liberation from mundane realities of our own making.
Sahib mera nit navan
Sada sada daata
My God is new everyday
He is the giver (of newness)
(Sikh Scriptures)
So God or reality is new everyday and we must keep pace with this newness. It is no use running away from daily flux and seek refuge in old forms or past experiences. One should be a creative warrior and fights the battles of life by producing works that resonate with our inner spirit. In our life there are certain premises where neither contemplation nor physical action can give full satisfaction but our heart cries for such creative vision.
Thus poetry becomes a way of action to keep up with the changing realities of time. Everything seems to be in a flux, we are born and die each moment. Poetry is that fixed position which is trying to keep its position on a moving platform. If we do not exert ourselves, we will be swept away.
Man lives by images. He cannot survive in a vacuum and fresher the images, the vital the life. Poetry gives an authenticity to our being. We must dig deeper within ourselves and search for those words which, when assembled in a verse, will illumine the dark recesses of mind.
Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth guru of Sikhs was such a person. He has been called a Sant Sipahi or Saint soldier, in other term he was a warrior poet of high distinction. He fought against tyranny and for human dignity for which he suffered greatly loosing all his possessions and even his family.
He was a great linguist and wrote poetry of high calibre. He made poetry into a way of action, which inspired his numerous followers so as to fight against injustices. According to him the chief virtues of a human being are courage and tenderness. The heart of tenderness which poetry can usher in and the courage to go forward inspite of all the defeats suffered on battlefields of life.
With daggers drawn and swords clashed of steel
With dauntless courage and linked suffering for feel
The merciful warrior forwarded amid fight and pity
For both his friends and foes
Now drenched in bloods of futility.
Frets and fears of egoism now laid aside
His only concern now became
To fight for the liberty of his mind
Not for diversions or for abandoned castled dearth
Not for the prized glory in the eyes of the world.
Driven to edge for his hatred of tyranny
He showered his message of dignity for all sundry
His hand extended for support without caste or creeds
Amid sanctity of sufferings and all hallowed deeds.
Scribing Bachittar Natak his dramatic verse
Wondrous play of nature amid works of divine
Worlds of action or of contemplation
Beyond the little thine or mine
In jungles of Trai & Machiwara his tortures confined.
Here where men hate and taste blood in consummation
Indifference in ignorance of vultured eliminations
Great loss of innocents of his sons he endured
Among bitter smites but his poise he secured
The Sant Sipahi then reluctantly took to his sword
To defend dignity of Hind against marauding hordes.
Chinese Poetry: Li Po (701-762)
by Kevin Kizer on Sunday, April 21, 2002 09:40 pmAmong the top poets in Chinese history resides Li Po.
In pre-modern times, he raised poetry to levels of expressiveness and impact never before reached. Unlike other great Chinese poets such as Tu Fu, Li Po's work gained immediate attention. The main reason for this is that Li Po was not an innovator; he took the classic form, the form that was familiar, and raised it another level with an unparalleled grace and eloquence.
The main themes or characteristics of Li Po's large body of work include playfulness, hyberbole, nature, and, something for which he is proverbial wine.
Born in Szechwan, Li Po spent his life constantly on the move. No one knows the reason why. He traveled extensively through eastern and central China. Despite his wanderlust, his poetry reveals little about the inner-workings of the poet himself. Around 742 he was appointed to a government office in the service of literature. A few years later, amidst slanderous gossip, he was exiled. Later, around 755, he came into the service of a prince, who was later accused of treason. This caused Li Po to be exiled for a second time. He was eventually pardoned and then continued on with his life of wandering.
What's amazing is that throughout his tortuous life, Li Po's poetry is free of anger, despair and bitterness. It presents itself as hopeful and calm. And it came from Li Po's artistic vision, not so much his day-to-day life, of a continuous search for spiritual freedom and communion with nature.
AUTUMN COVE
At Autumn Cove, so many white monkeys,
bounding, leaping up like snowflakes in flight!
They coax and pull their young ones down from the branches
to drink and frolic with the water-borne moon.
AT YELLOW CRANE TOWER TAKING LEAVE OF MENG HAO-JAN AS HE SETS OFF FOR KUANG-LING (for Meng Hao-jan, the poet)
My old friend takes leave of the west at Yellow Crane Tower,
in misty third-month blossoms goes downstream to Yang-chou.
The far-off shape of his lone sail disappears in the blue-green void,
and all I see is the long river flowing to the edge of the sky.
A NIGHT WITH A FRIEND
Dousing clean a thousand old cares,
sticking it out through a hundred pots of wine,
a good night needing the best conversation,
a brilliant moon that will not let us sleep
drunk we lie down in empty hills,
heaven and earth our quilt and pillow.
In pre-modern times, he raised poetry to levels of expressiveness and impact never before reached. Unlike other great Chinese poets such as Tu Fu, Li Po's work gained immediate attention. The main reason for this is that Li Po was not an innovator; he took the classic form, the form that was familiar, and raised it another level with an unparalleled grace and eloquence.
The main themes or characteristics of Li Po's large body of work include playfulness, hyberbole, nature, and, something for which he is proverbial wine.
Born in Szechwan, Li Po spent his life constantly on the move. No one knows the reason why. He traveled extensively through eastern and central China. Despite his wanderlust, his poetry reveals little about the inner-workings of the poet himself. Around 742 he was appointed to a government office in the service of literature. A few years later, amidst slanderous gossip, he was exiled. Later, around 755, he came into the service of a prince, who was later accused of treason. This caused Li Po to be exiled for a second time. He was eventually pardoned and then continued on with his life of wandering.
What's amazing is that throughout his tortuous life, Li Po's poetry is free of anger, despair and bitterness. It presents itself as hopeful and calm. And it came from Li Po's artistic vision, not so much his day-to-day life, of a continuous search for spiritual freedom and communion with nature.
AUTUMN COVE
At Autumn Cove, so many white monkeys,
bounding, leaping up like snowflakes in flight!
They coax and pull their young ones down from the branches
to drink and frolic with the water-borne moon.
AT YELLOW CRANE TOWER TAKING LEAVE OF MENG HAO-JAN AS HE SETS OFF FOR KUANG-LING (for Meng Hao-jan, the poet)
My old friend takes leave of the west at Yellow Crane Tower,
in misty third-month blossoms goes downstream to Yang-chou.
The far-off shape of his lone sail disappears in the blue-green void,
and all I see is the long river flowing to the edge of the sky.
A NIGHT WITH A FRIEND
Dousing clean a thousand old cares,
sticking it out through a hundred pots of wine,
a good night needing the best conversation,
a brilliant moon that will not let us sleep
drunk we lie down in empty hills,
heaven and earth our quilt and pillow.
Chinese Poetry: Book of Odes
by Kevin Kizer on Sunday, April 21, 2002 09:36 pm
Believed to be compiled by Confucius, Shih ching or "Book of Odes" is a collection of 305 poems, dating from 1000 to 600 BC. These are believed to be the oldest existing examples of Chinese poetry.
The collection includes refined folk songs, ritualistic poems, dynastic legends and hymns for ancestral temples. All were intended to be sung, although the musical accompaniments are long lost. The subject matter centers on daily activities such as farming, gathering plants, farming, courting, feasting and going to war. The imagery is concrete and the poems themselves focus on youth, beauty and vigor. The tone is wide, from festive and lighthearted to bitter and satirical. Children and old age are largely ignored.
The construction of the poems is very consistent. Each line contained four characters (note: a Chinese character is not equivalent to an English word; Chinese characters often encompass an entire phrase or idea). The lines are arranged in stanzas of four, six or eight lines. Rhyming occurs infrequently.
Economy of expression is predominant. Most begin with an image of nature, which oftentimes leads to a parallel in human life, or, just as often, a contrast.
"Book of Odes" is considered one of the Five Confucian Classics and became a basic text in Chinese education. For many centuries, the Chinese have studied the text for its wisdom relative to history, philosophy, ethics and politics.
No. 1
GWAN! GWAN! CRY THE FISH HAWKS!
(a wedding song for the royal family)
Gwan! gwan! cry the fish hawks
on sandbars in the river:
a mild-mannered good girl,
fine match for the gentleman.
A ragged fringe is the floating-heart,
left and right we trail it:
that mild-mannered good girl,
awake, asleep, I search for her.
I search but cannot find her,
awake, asleep, thinking of her,
endlessly, endlessly,
turning, tossing from side to side.
A ragged fringe is the floating-heart,
left and right we pick it:
the mild-mannered good girl,
harp and lute make friends with her.
A ragged fringe is the floating-heart,
left and right we sort it:
the mild-mannered good girl,
bell and drum delight her.
No. 192
HOW IS THE NIGHT?
How is the night?
The night's not yet ended.
Courtyard torches are lit;
our lord is coming,
his bridle-bells make tinkling sounds.
How is the night?
The night's not yet over.
Courtyard torches shimmer and shine:
our lord is coming,
his bridle-bells make jangling sounds.
How is the night?
The night gives way to dawn.
Courtyard torches are glimmering:
our lord is coming,
I can see his banners!
Introduction to Chinese Poetry (300BC-1100AD)
by Kevin Kizer on Sunday, April 21, 2002 09:32 pmIn the life and history of the Chinese people, nothing is more tightly woven into their culture than poetry.
Composed by emperors and scholar-officials as well as peasants and farmers, poetry was the means by which they expressed their happiness and sadness, political anger and courtship.
Chinese poetry dates back to the Hsia dynasty (2205 BC), however the first known anthology of Chinese poetry date back to 600 BC. Chinese poetry, much like Japanese poetry, has gained wider popularity in the West over the recent years. There are several reasons, with the major one being accessibility. Chinese poetry is amazingly humanistic and commonsensical. Whereas European poetry tends towards flights of fancy, wordplay and the supernatural, Chinese poetry is firmly entrenched in the terra of life.
Composed by emperors and scholar-officials as well as peasants and farmers, poetry was the means by which they expressed their happiness and sadness, political anger and courtship.
Chinese poetry dates back to the Hsia dynasty (2205 BC), however the first known anthology of Chinese poetry date back to 600 BC. Chinese poetry, much like Japanese poetry, has gained wider popularity in the West over the recent years. There are several reasons, with the major one being accessibility. Chinese poetry is amazingly humanistic and commonsensical. Whereas European poetry tends towards flights of fancy, wordplay and the supernatural, Chinese poetry is firmly entrenched in the terra of life.
Practicing Buddhism as a Feminist Christian
by Jolee Moffett on Friday, April 12, 2002 03:26 pmWives be subject to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ also is the head of the church, He the head of the church, He Himself being the savior of the body. But as the church is subject to Christ, so also the wives ought to be to their husbands in everything.
The book Ephesians in the Christian bible makes it quite clear that women are subservient to men. Being a feminist I found this a little hard to swallow during my three years at The Master's College (a private Christian college). I found myself continually questioning things that seemed unfair or geared towards a different era and culture. I always felt awkward walking among women who agreed with the inequality in a male/female Christian relationship.
Once I stopped conforming to the conventional picture of femininity I finally started to enjoy being a woman. I realized that my dreams do not consist wholly of getting married and having children. Although many Asian cultures practice the traditional family roles, I found it quite inspiring that one of the seven main elements of Buddhism was Egalitarianism. Meaning, women are just as capable of enlightenment as men are. I believe that if we took Buddhism and put its elements into practice in today's society we would only be benefiting our children and ourselves.
Looking to Buddha and his teachings seemed odd to me as a white American female. I found it difficult to open my mind to eastern thought and I kept wanting to argue Buddha's logic with Christianity. However, once I sat down and finally began to really think about what he was saying, it all fell into place. It starts with following the Four Noble Truths:
1) All life is suffering (dukka)
2) Suffering is caused by desire (tanha)
3) Suffering can only cease if desire ceases
4) Follow the Eight-Fold Path
Overcoming dukka and tanha through the eight-fold path:
1) Right thought
2) Right conduct
3) Right speech
4) Right livelihood
5) Right effort
6) Right mindfulness
7) Right concentration
8) Right understanding
And using it as a map to direct our lives, we can only make things better for ourselves. "The 8-fold path can be grouped into 3 groups. The first is "Morality". The idea here is to live a life where one tries to constantly practice kindness and love, and to live life such that one's conscience is clear. That comes from our practice of Perfect Thougths, Perfect Actions, Perfect Speech and Perfect Livelihood. Basically, we live life to the best that we can.
The 2nd group is "Concentration". With a clear conscience cultivated with "morality", we cultivate our minds so that it'll be calm, peaceful and concentrated. This comes from our practice of Perfect Effort and Perfect Concentration.
The 3rd group is "Insight". With a very strong, calm, concentrated and peaceful mind, we learn to work with ourselves, to gain insight into ourselves, to eventually overcome all our problems and all the unsatisfactoriness in our lives. This comes from our practice of Perfect Mindfulness and Perfect Understanding. " (http://www.serve.com/cmtan/buddhism/fournt.html)
When I first looked at the eight-fold path I thought that it was practically impossible to carry out, however, many of the things on there are things that we do everyday anyway. Right conduct involves no stealing, no killing, no intoxicants, and no immoral sexual acts. Some of these may be very easy, and others extremely difficult. I believe that religion cannot all be done for you. There must be some sacrifice and work on the believers part or it is not actually pertaining to your life. How can you say you truly practice something if you aren't doing anything different?
Buddha asks us to focus on ourselves and have continuous self-examinations, and awareness, he asks us to act out of love and have a steady effort. He preaches self-discipline and no slander, which leads us to be kind to one another and ourselves. This is what I want for myself. This is what I want for my children: A society that doesn't long for genetic engineering but a society that continues to better itself through its actions toward one another. It starts with controlling our road rage and being nice to the person who cuts in line at the gas station. It starts with less "one night stands" and more meditation. It starts with what I need to work on not with something I find wrong with my neighbor.
It is possible to integrate this into our society. I believe it is. I believe by offering yoga classes and a class such as Asian thought at the local junior college is a pretty good start. Buddhism should not be dead to America, it should be offered as an alternative to our tired and overworked religions such as Catholicism or Christianity. We should delve in and seek to understand what has not been placed in front of us. We cannot simply accept one religion as truth when we have not studied or put into practice other religions.
I believe that as a woman and as an American we need to search for different views on society and do all that we can to better ourselves. If enlightenment is possible, then we should overcome our ignorance and strive to understand what holds us back.
********************************************************************************
UNIVERSAL PRAYER By SRI SWAMI SIVANANDA
O Adorable Lord of Mercy and Love !
Salutations and prostrations unto Thee.
Thou art Omnipresent, Omnipotent and Omniscient.
Thou art Existence-Consciousness-Bliss Absolute.
Thou art the Indweller of all beings.
Grant us an understanding heart,
Equal vision, balanced mind,
Faith, devotion and wisdom.
Grant us inner spiritual strength
To resist temptation and to control the mind.
Free us from egoism, lust, greed, hatred, anger and jealousy.
Fill our hearts with divine virtues.
Let us behold Thee in all these names and forms.
Let us serve Thee in all these names and forms.
Let us ever remember Thee.
Let us ever sing Thy glories.
Let Thy Name be ever on our lips.
Let us abide in Thee for ever and ever.
The book Ephesians in the Christian bible makes it quite clear that women are subservient to men. Being a feminist I found this a little hard to swallow during my three years at The Master's College (a private Christian college). I found myself continually questioning things that seemed unfair or geared towards a different era and culture. I always felt awkward walking among women who agreed with the inequality in a male/female Christian relationship.
Once I stopped conforming to the conventional picture of femininity I finally started to enjoy being a woman. I realized that my dreams do not consist wholly of getting married and having children. Although many Asian cultures practice the traditional family roles, I found it quite inspiring that one of the seven main elements of Buddhism was Egalitarianism. Meaning, women are just as capable of enlightenment as men are. I believe that if we took Buddhism and put its elements into practice in today's society we would only be benefiting our children and ourselves.
Looking to Buddha and his teachings seemed odd to me as a white American female. I found it difficult to open my mind to eastern thought and I kept wanting to argue Buddha's logic with Christianity. However, once I sat down and finally began to really think about what he was saying, it all fell into place. It starts with following the Four Noble Truths:
1) All life is suffering (dukka)
2) Suffering is caused by desire (tanha)
3) Suffering can only cease if desire ceases
4) Follow the Eight-Fold Path
Overcoming dukka and tanha through the eight-fold path:
1) Right thought
2) Right conduct
3) Right speech
4) Right livelihood
5) Right effort
6) Right mindfulness
7) Right concentration
8) Right understanding
And using it as a map to direct our lives, we can only make things better for ourselves. "The 8-fold path can be grouped into 3 groups. The first is "Morality". The idea here is to live a life where one tries to constantly practice kindness and love, and to live life such that one's conscience is clear. That comes from our practice of Perfect Thougths, Perfect Actions, Perfect Speech and Perfect Livelihood. Basically, we live life to the best that we can.
The 2nd group is "Concentration". With a clear conscience cultivated with "morality", we cultivate our minds so that it'll be calm, peaceful and concentrated. This comes from our practice of Perfect Effort and Perfect Concentration.
The 3rd group is "Insight". With a very strong, calm, concentrated and peaceful mind, we learn to work with ourselves, to gain insight into ourselves, to eventually overcome all our problems and all the unsatisfactoriness in our lives. This comes from our practice of Perfect Mindfulness and Perfect Understanding. " (http://www.serve.com/cmtan/buddhism/fournt.html)
When I first looked at the eight-fold path I thought that it was practically impossible to carry out, however, many of the things on there are things that we do everyday anyway. Right conduct involves no stealing, no killing, no intoxicants, and no immoral sexual acts. Some of these may be very easy, and others extremely difficult. I believe that religion cannot all be done for you. There must be some sacrifice and work on the believers part or it is not actually pertaining to your life. How can you say you truly practice something if you aren't doing anything different?
Buddha asks us to focus on ourselves and have continuous self-examinations, and awareness, he asks us to act out of love and have a steady effort. He preaches self-discipline and no slander, which leads us to be kind to one another and ourselves. This is what I want for myself. This is what I want for my children: A society that doesn't long for genetic engineering but a society that continues to better itself through its actions toward one another. It starts with controlling our road rage and being nice to the person who cuts in line at the gas station. It starts with less "one night stands" and more meditation. It starts with what I need to work on not with something I find wrong with my neighbor.
It is possible to integrate this into our society. I believe it is. I believe by offering yoga classes and a class such as Asian thought at the local junior college is a pretty good start. Buddhism should not be dead to America, it should be offered as an alternative to our tired and overworked religions such as Catholicism or Christianity. We should delve in and seek to understand what has not been placed in front of us. We cannot simply accept one religion as truth when we have not studied or put into practice other religions.
I believe that as a woman and as an American we need to search for different views on society and do all that we can to better ourselves. If enlightenment is possible, then we should overcome our ignorance and strive to understand what holds us back.
********************************************************************************
UNIVERSAL PRAYER By SRI SWAMI SIVANANDA
O Adorable Lord of Mercy and Love !
Salutations and prostrations unto Thee.
Thou art Omnipresent, Omnipotent and Omniscient.
Thou art Existence-Consciousness-Bliss Absolute.
Thou art the Indweller of all beings.
Grant us an understanding heart,
Equal vision, balanced mind,
Faith, devotion and wisdom.
Grant us inner spiritual strength
To resist temptation and to control the mind.
Free us from egoism, lust, greed, hatred, anger and jealousy.
Fill our hearts with divine virtues.
Let us behold Thee in all these names and forms.
Let us serve Thee in all these names and forms.
Let us ever remember Thee.
Let us ever sing Thy glories.
Let Thy Name be ever on our lips.
Let us abide in Thee for ever and ever.
Miami Beach Elegy
by Levi Asher on Saturday, February 16, 2002 09:28 am
When I was around 9 years old my grandma and grandpa suddenly got heavily into transcendental meditation. This was funny because it didn't seem like either of them. She was an intellectual and high-minded person, but also somewhat appearance-conscious and high-strung, and the whole Eastern spirituality thing seemed very earthy-crunchy for her.
But it was clear that she was the one who was all fired up about this new thing, whereas grandpa was just going along for the ride. It wasn't easy to imagine him getting excited about meditation, but it was easy to imagine him doing it. He always seemed to be in a meditative state anyway, as he sat watching Mets games on TV with his pipe in his mouth.
The cool thing is that they insisted on teaching us kids -- me, my siblings and cousins -- how to meditate. And they made us take it seriously. They asked each of us to make up our own mantras, and they told us never to tell our mantras to anyone else, because that would compromise the intensely personal relationship between each of us and our mantras. I asked grandma if she and grandpa knew each other's mantras and I was surprised that she said no, they didn't.
Basho: Lifeline
by Kevin Kizer on Sunday, January 13, 2002 02:59 pm
1644
Haiku poet Basho born in Ueno, 30 miles southeast of Kyoto
1656
Enters into the service a local feudal lord; begins composing haikai
1666
Left the feudal family and disappeared for five years, taking on the name Sobo
1667-71
His worked appeared in numerous anthologies; many believe he was in Kyoto studying poetry and Zen
1672
Published "The Seashell Game", which was the record of a haiku contest he supervised
1675
Began taking on students
1676
Published "Two Poets of Edo (Tokyo)" with another poet
1676-70
Worked as a minor official in the waterworks department
1677
Published "Three Poets in Edo"
1678
At the age of 34, was recognized as a master and a group began to form around him
1679
Began to deepen his studies of Chinese poetry; shaved his head and became a lay monk
1680
Withdrew from public life, moving to a modest gamekeeper's hut; it was here that he was given a large banana tree (a basho tree), which became the name he is best known by
1683
A tremendous fire destroyed much of Edo and Basho's home
1684
His students rebuilt his home; began the travels that occupied the rest of his life; his mother died
1685
His travel journal, "Journal of Weather-beaten Skeleton" was published
1686
Returned to his home in Edo
1687
Set out on another trip which resulted in "Notes in My Knapsack" (also known as "The Records of a Travel-worn Satchel") and "A Visit to Kashima Shrine"
1689
At 45, sold his home and journeyed north; created his masterpiece "Narrow Road to the Far North"
1689-90
Began developing the c0ncept of "sabi", solitariness and loneliness that results in lightness and intense concentration
1691
Returned to Edo
1693
His health began failing him; introduced a new poetic ideal called "karumi" which he described as "like looking at a shallow river with a sandy bed"
1693 November
Basho died; his death poem:
Sick on a journey,
my dreams wander
the withered fields
