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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Buddhist speaks: a man listens, drinks</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘The burning flames of anger have parched the stream of my being.<br>The thick darkness of illusion has blinded my intelligence.<br>My consciousness drowns in torrents of desire.<br>The mountain of pride has flung me into the nether worlds.<br>The driving blizzard of envy has dragged me into samsara.<br>The demon of belief in the ego has me firmly by the throat.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche) <br>  [samsara = the flow of the world]   ]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh Dilgo! You too? And you, <br>high in the snowy mountains, in a thriving monastery, <br>surrounded by devotion, love, study, meditation, prayer…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">what hope for me and us, if this is what you find in you? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then I remember your serene and smiling face, <br>untrammelled, unaffected, giving, and compassionate; <br>your first thought, before and after meditation<br>and the seeking of those light-clouded inner worlds, <br>compassion for the world; as you in turn were taught..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">what hope for me and us, what can we do –<br>but, read this… not with self-loathing, but compassion, <br>the compassion that brought you, too, to write…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and I recall how snow, hanging from a mountain ledge, <br>forms drops of water sparkling in the sun and mountain air; <br>now and then, they drop; join together in a trickle; <br>a little way below, a mountain stream<br>gurgles, laughs upon its way; <br>makes a channel in the rock, splashes from the overhangs; <br>further down below (silent and still from up here, but for<br>a single bird, wheeling, gliding, in the lower air) <br>down below – a mighty river plans to form; <br>how pure its water tastes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=459938" data-title="A Buddhist speaks: a man listens, drinks de Michael Shepherd" data-description="‘The burning flames of anger have parched the stream of my being.
The thick darkness of illusion has blinded my intelligence.
My consciousness drowns in torrents of desire.
The mountain of pride has flung me into the nether worlds.
The driving b..."></div>
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