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                   POEM OF THE DAY (Issue 5)
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--- Monday, September 09, 2002
 
Translation - Astavakra Gita

Chapter 1: verses 1-5

How to acquire knowledge, and how to become free?
My Lord, I am ready, please announce it to me!

My Son, the world and its objects, avoid & fear
Go seek, rather - truth, honesty, kindness & cheer

Neither earth, nor water, nor fire or air are you
You are Consciousness, a witness, it's all a shew!

Detach from the body, & remain in the mind
Happy & peaceful, fetters and chains untied you'll find!

You are not caste, neither Brahmin, nor fox or elf
Unbound, formless, witness of all, this is the Self.

--- Tuesday, September 10, 2002
 
Translation - Catallus

Poem 1

To who shall I give my pretty little book
All polished up with dry pumice stone?
To you, Cornelius, because you used to think
My little trifles were worth something more.
To you, Cornelius, alone of all Italians
Who dared write a history of time
Learned and labored in three big tomes.
My friend, take and keep this pretty little book
Read it, and by the nine vestal virgins
May it outlive a hundred years or more.

--- Wednesday, September 11, 2002
 
Translation - Astavakra Gita

Chapter 1: verses 6-10

Virtue & vice, smile & sorrow, are like the sea
Just surface impressions, you are the ever free!

You are the one eternal Seer, yes, ever free
Son, you only limit yourself, awake and see!

"I do" is the great black serpent, a poison lure
Drink the nectar of faith - "I am not the doer"

With fire of certitude, burn down the trees of stress
Discard grief, be happy, you are pure Consciousness

The universe deceives - a hard image, forsooth
Bliss supreme bliss, bliss bliss supreme, this is the truth.

--- Thursday, September 12, 2002
 
Translation - Catallus

Poem 2

Sparrow, my dear lady's pet
You she used to sit in her lap
And stretch out a teasing little finger
Trying to incite a good natured bite.
This, I know, my lady used to do
When she felt in the mind for play.
This, I believe, my lady will do
When the pangs of love start to cut the soul.
Sparrow, if only I had some way
To forget the cares of a heavy heart!

--- Friday, September 13, 2002
 
Ode to a Japanese Urn

You are a Japanese cup
I am a Chinese shelf
Please sit on me.

O Keats! Keats! Keats! Keats!
So tragic, so young!
I wish you had died younger
So now you would be unsung.

You are a Japanese cup
I am a Chinese shelf
Please sit on me.