Meditation In Action – Chogyarn Trungpa – Extrait 15 février, 2014
Posté par cyaqr dans : Citations , ajouter un commentaire
It is said, I think in the Lankavatara Sutra, that unskilled farmers throwaway their rubbish and buy manure from other farmers, but those who are skilled go on collecting their own rubbish, in spite of he bad smell and the unclean work, and when it is ready to be used they spread it on their land, and out of this they grow their crops. That is the skilled way. In exactly the same way, the Buddha says, those who are unskilled will divide clean from unclean and will try to throwaway Samsara and search for Nirvana, but those who are skilled Bodhisattvas will not throwaway desire and the passion and so on, but will first gather them together.
That is to say one should first recognise and acknowledge them, and study them and bring them to realisation. So the skilled Bodhisattva will acknowledge and accept all these negative things. And this time he really knows that he has all these terrible things in him, and although it is very difficult and unhygienic, as it were, to work on that is the only way to start. And then he will scatter them on the field of Bodhi.
Having studied all these concepts and negative things, when the time is right he does not keep them any more, but scatters them and uses them as manure. So out of these unclean things comes the birth of the seed which is Realisation.
Suspendu 6 janvier, 2013
Posté par cyaqr dans : Poésies,Suspendu , ajouter un commentaire
Fur Elisa
Une image ternie au temps suspend ta robe
Éternelle, embaume au creux de ses plis ton corps
De momie flottant, au fond d’une nuit sans aube…
Ton doux visage, calqué tel une merveille,
Semble vouloir s’envoler très loin des hivers
Où le drap blanc claque, le recouvre et l’endeuille…
Cesseras-tu de m’observer avec finesse
Puisqu’aucun colibri n’atteindra jamais plus
Le feu de mes paupières avec autant d’adresse ?!
Cesseras-tu de me blesser avec tendresse
Puisqu’aucun éclat de rire ne viendra plus
Chanter à mes oreilles un seul refrain d’ivresse ?!
Qu’importent les tourments !
Je suis le gardien d’un trésor qu’aucun joaillier
Ne sera jamais capable un jour d’imiter ;
Aucun éclair de génie ne pourra penser
Ton sourire figé
Qu’il m’est donné de
Contempler.