By Je Tsongkhapa, Kilty, Gavin Kilty
The Tibetan saint Tsongkhapa (1357-1419), the founding father of the Dalai Lama's culture of Tibetan Buddhism, was once popular for his substantial studying, meditational achievements, influential writings on perform and philosophy, and reform of tantric non secular practices. A deeply humble and non secular guy, he expressed himself in beautiful verse.
Here, offered in either the unique Tibetan and in English translation, are twenty-one devotional poems through Tsongkhapa. every one verse--dedicated to the Buddha, bodhisattvas, and lamas--illuminates a few element of the Buddhist course. Gavin Kilty's observation locations each one prayer into context, and his cautious, crafty translations will entice an individual with a love of poetry.
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Additional info for The Splendor of an Autumn Moon: The Devotional Verse of Tsongkhapa
Sample text
Fingers and toes beautifully webbed like those of the king of swans. Fingers ordered by a row of glistening red nails, long, full, soft, and young like tender shoots that grow upon the wish-fulfilling tree. Golden wheels, each of a thousand spokes, grace the soles of your feet, the palms of your hands, so clear, so perfect, each wheel well defined, like the matrix of a seal. Your right arm, adorned with bracelets and armbands, brandishing a blazing sword to cut to the root the treelike creeper of clinging to reality.
You remain, therefore, an unending treasure of qualities, every root of every fault forever destroyed, no other teacher compares with you, sole refuge for all living things. I pray my protector, when this life fades, to be reborn in that highest of realms, formed from your billion prayers, famed and renowned as Sukhavati, realm of bliss, where even names of sufferings remain unheard, there to take birth within the celestial lotus flower, arising unhindered among its thousand petals, to behold your form, to be sated by your words, and having heard from you, protector, the sounds of the Mahayana, may I do as Avalokiteshvara and Vajrapani have done, and free those sunk in swamps of existence.
IN PRAISE OF MAITREYA, THE CROWN OF BRAHMA Although your mind is forever moist with the gentle waters of love, you burn and scorch, nevertheless, celestial Mara and his friends of darkness. Although you have long broken the hardened chains of samsara, you remain a prisoner, nonetheless, of your own compassion. Although you rest at ease in peaceful equipoise, you cherish, nevertheless, others more than self. Manjushri, I bow devotedly to your feet and offer this praise to Maitreya. Highly praised by the four-faced Brahma, gazed upon continuously by thousand-eyed Indra, bowed to by Kama, all celestial arrogance deflated, Buddha’s regent, I fall in reverence to your feet.