He’s the Lord who stages and then withdraws the show, a myriad ocean
Of mighty deeds the Victors in all three times perform to keep
The teaching tradition that joins both ways, those passed from Gentle Voice
And from the saviour Loving One, the deep thought of the Victors.
He’s a god who goes to the matchless mystery of his mind, a treasure
Resplendent with all ten forces, to speak the gold mine of the sages;
He’s Lobsang Drakpa, of shining fame, and into this world came
The jewels of the holy Dharma spewed out from his lips.
He’s the revered father of all Victors; in the form of their son, a child,
Gave a teaching that draws the essence of the nectar from the cream
Of the eighty thousand, the mystery of the Buddhas’ speech: we call it
Three Principal Paths, well-known as the sun in the sky of the immaculate Word.
His lines are none of those empty words, supposedly deep, incomplete,
But rather spout a thousand riches, advice from experience
Of each step of the meaning itself, the high paths in their entirety,
Capturing the glory of good of the world or peace, wherever.
Come great warrior, who has no fear of what will make him wise;
Take up the bow of these wonderful books, the true Word, open and secret;
Use it with the feathered shafts of reasoning, way of the wise
Throughout the world, pierce the hearts of those who would teach wrong.
When will I decide to give the rest of my life some meaning?
When will I throw away this lie of happiness in this life,
The shining embrace of grabbing after good things in this world,
My forever friend, the foe of my forever happiness.
In this and my future lives may I never fail to collect
More of the short and long-term causes which bring me both the bodies;
May I win the beauty of eyes that guide myself and others too
On the excellent paths, fixed upon the wise and adept ahead.
This is not a load that the likes of me could ever bear,
But I’ve tried my best to put his eloquence down in black and white.
I may have slipped, and lost some words or meaning, or the like;
I kneel before my Lama and freely admit any error made.
By the pure white force in deeds like this endeavour I’ve completed
May my thoughts, those of others too, all turn to the holy Dharma.
May it come to cause us all to cut what ties us to this life,
And help us take best essence from the time and chance we have.
Footnote: Extracted from Tsongkapa – the Principal Teachings of Buddhism, translated by Geshe Lobsang Tharchin with Michael Roach
