H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III _ Classical Poetry and Songs

Introduction

  As early as 1991, H.H. Dorje Chang Buddha III Wan Ko Yeshe Norbu Holiest Tathagata was awarded the title of “Master of Oriental Art.” 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.

  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 III and 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.

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 “Xiao Lou Fang”

The Lord’s Pleasure

No one asks what is the Lord’s pleasure,

The mood of the plum, proudly alone.

Watch it by day – joy to the ends of Heaven

When night returns

Its color has no place to bide.

The curtain of night is vast, vast,

Oh, when will it end?

When will it end?

The Lord’s pleasure,

A golden cock cries at the dawning of day,

Resplendent colored clouds of morning,

A place of music and song,

The brilliance of the clouds encircles ten-thousand miles,

Ah, ten-thousand miles,

Ten-thousand miles.

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.

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