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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/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"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">‘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.’</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">(Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche) <br> [samsara = the flow of the world] ]</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">* </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Oh Dilgo! You too? And you, <br>high in the snowy mountains, in a thriving monastery, <br>surrounded by devotion, love, study, meditation, prayer…</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">what hope for me and us, if this is what you find in you? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">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..</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">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…</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=459938" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">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.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a></strong></div>

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