On the high roads from India, the
Dharma spread.
Before the Dharma spread, the
conch spread.
The white conch opened the way
for the Dharma.
On the low roads from China, law
spread.
Before law spread, cloth spread.
The white cloth opened the way
for the law.
(This ‘proverb’
reflects the fact that the religious teachings of the Buddha which form the
basis of Tibetan spiritual life, came from India. In the story of the Gautama
Buddha’s life, the god Indra gave Him a conch shell trumpet symbolizing the ‘broadcasting’
of His message. The ‘cloth’ is made to
symbolize the various aspects of material culture and social institutions
adapted from China.)
* * *
The knotted cloth of religious
rules needs to be tied.
But, while tied, the inside
should be loosened.
The golden yoke of Chinese laws
should be heavy.
But, while, heavy, it must be
light inside.
(Make strong rules
and laws, but don’t enforce them too stringently.)
* * *
The son of a good mother is
someone you can confide in.
Good gold can be filed.
(Because the inside
is also good.)
* * *
If you hit something above you,
you hit the white god Brahma.
If you hit something below you,
You hit the heart of the Naga
spirit.
(You get in trouble
for doing injury to anyone, high or low.)
* * *
The round, smooth stone does not
move with the wind.
But the rock mountains of the
north are moved by the wind.
The suing mouth will not die in a
famine.
But the mouth of me, a beggar, will.
(Only well-to-do and
established people can afford to pursue legal cases. The other implications are clear.)
* * *
The blue cuckoo bird is tired in
the tree.
The old blonde frog is tired in
the marsh.
(I’m tired.)
* * *
It’s not necessary to wipe a
white silver mirror.
It’s not necessary to explain a
lady’s hair.
(The obvious needs no
discussion.)
* * *
The flowers and meadows that grow
in the summer
Will not grow so well in the
waters and floodbanks.
(Don’t generalize.)
* * *
When, from the top of the yellow
mountain, fog forms,
Then definitely the sun is not
warm.
When a ‘boiled smell’ is put off
by the puffed barley,
Then definitely the sausage will
not taste good.
(When you start
talking to someone, you can see right away if your ideas will have a good
reception.)
* * *
In the lineage of Kargyudpa
teachers,
There is not one who is not a
religious person.
Among the puppies of a red bitch,
There is not one who is not a
thief.
* * *
Whether a man is big or small, he
needs to be reliable.
Whether the meat is big or small,
it needs to be cooked.
* * *
If you are a success, bad
appearances don’t matter.
If you are happy, merit’s no big
deal.
* * *
Son of a good father.
Leather of a good yak.
* * *
Words can turn human thoughts into
cannibals.
Words can give cannibals the
thoughts of gods.
* * *
Bad ideas outside,
Inside no success.
* * *
Hear nothing. See nothing.
Know nothing.
These words have great power in
the Tibetan world.
* * *
I curse at the white clouds.
I walk on the black earth.
I carry a load in back
Tied with a knot in front.
I’ve turned my back on my dear
mom and dad.
I’ve abandoned the land of my
birth.
(Don’t criticize
me. I’m an ordinary, honest person doing
the best I can.)
* * *
There’s no going back on the
karma of previous lives.
There’s no wiping away the
wrinkles on an old man’s brow.
(What’s done is done;
the truth is self-evident.)
* * *
If a mountain is carried away by
the wind,
It is hard to find rocks to hold
it down.
If the ocean is consumed in a
fire,
It is hard to find water to put
it out.
* * *
The old man sits inside his house
And old legal disputes fall
inside his window.
(I haven’t done
anything, but trouble still seeks me out.)
* * *
The Chinese home is good, but
like a doorless stronghold,
From the outside you see no
cracks.
From the inside you see no
patchwork.
The Tibetan home is bad, but like
a butterchurn full of feathers.
Each man has his own hole.
(A Tibetan may admire
the Chinese for their fastidiousness, but at the same time deplore their
comparative lack of personal autonomy.
The Chinese Taoists would agree.)
* * *
Water has no paws,
But still it runs straight
through the valley.
Words have no arrow point,
But still they cut the human mind
to pieces.
* * *
If enlightenment grows, the
mother grows and the son grows.
If birds fly, the mother flies
and the son flies.
(vs. selfish
pursuance of religion.)
* * *
The beautiful song of a beggar
finds no listeners.
A King may be a weakling,
But rare is the man who will give
him a heave.
* * *
For pleasant words we have the
King of India.
For unpleasant words we have the
King of China.
(India is known for
its highly ornamental poetry, while China is known for harsh laws.)
* * *
It is better just to bow down
quietly with good thoughts
Than to recite ‘Mani’ with bad
thoughts.
(‘Mani’ is a name of
the famous mantra, “Om mani padme Hum.”)
* * *
If I am a yak calf tied at the
end of a tether,
The tether is a danger to the thief.
If I am a poor man living in a
ditch,
There is always a danger someone
will fall in.
* * *
(She who has) teeth white as
glaciers is completely content
But talk of glaciers brings no
contentment (to the young man).
Food brings the stomach complete satisfaction
But the depths of the mind remain
unsatisfied.
(Eyes are bigger than
stomachs.)
* * *
The place to appeal is the
official.
The place to catch is the neck.
(Go straight for the
jugular vein.)
These proverbs (གཏམ་དཔེ་) were written down from memory by Dezhung Rinpoche. He is not the inventor or author of these sayings. His role here is as transmitter of the oral genius of Tibetan society.
Translated by Thubten Jigme Norbu with the assistance of Dan Martin.
Originally published in The Tibet Society Newsletter, no. 12 (Fall 1984), pp. 4-7.
Originally published in The Tibet Society Newsletter, no. 12 (Fall 1984), pp. 4-7.
Note: I should add for clarity’s sake that while the proverbs were written down from memory by Dezhung Rinpoche (1906-1987),* the parenthetical comments were written by myself in an effort to communicate the understanding of Taktser Rinpoche Thubten Jigme Norbu (1922-2008). For a magisterial biography of Dezhung Rinpoche, see David P. Jackson, A Saint in Seattle: The Life of the Tibetan Mystic Dezhung Rinpoche, Wisdom [Somerville 2003].
(*His complete name — སྡེ་གཞུང་ལུང་རིག་སྤྲུལ་སྐུ་ཀུན་དགའ་བསྟན་པའི་ཉི་མ་ — Sde-gzhung Lung-rig Sprul-sku Kun-dga'-bstan-pa'i-nyi-ma
— Dezhung Lungrig Tulku Kunga Tenpai Nyima.)