Oracles

“ SABBÉ PI DUKKHAM ” I35 Meteor, cyclone with strong Meditation. There, the scared spot from wind well-guarded, May the lamp, the golden lamp, be lighted To illume the whole with final Rapture And destroy the House of pain for ever, Leave its laughter and its tears, and shatter All the causes of its mockery, master All the workings of its will, and vanish Into peace and light and bliss, whose nature Baffles so the little tongues of mortals That we name it not, but from its threshold, From the golden word upon its gateway, Style “ Cessation ” ; that whose self we guess not. Thus the wise most mystically interpret Into wisdom the worst folly spoken By the mortal of a god deluded. So, the last wise word rejected, Pentheus Cries, “ ἀγ ὡς ταχιστα, του χρονου δε σοι φθονω ”—“ Why waste we time in talking ? Let us now away unto the mountains ! ” So the wise, enlightened by compassion, Seeks that bliss for all the world of sorrow, Swears the bitter oath of Vajrapani : “ Ere the cycle rush to utter darkness Work I so that every living being Pass beyond this constant chain of causes. If I fail, may all my being shatter Into millions of far-whirling pieces ! ” Swears that oath, and works, and studies silence, Takes his refuge in the triple jewel,