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I sing the Song
to inspired goddesses
and courageous gods.
If all beings
could hear her!
I emulate on Rinpoche.
I compare myself
with The Self.
So garuda soars
among guiding stars?
The Sea is latent
but breeze plays
and lapping of wave is already heard.
There is tear on a cheek.
Shaman has struck into the tambourine.
A thunder will strike at night.
There is evening rest.
Now someone will wake up
also someone will fall asleep.
Unconsciousness
of a chrysalis
is inevitable.
The caterpillar will be born a light butterfly.
And this night is passing.
The night comes to an end.
The haze lays in a valley
but the heaven is clear.
The cloud-9
cannot already hide
the Sun above peak.
There is wind of changes.
There are clouds in the Clime of Snows.
And it will pass.
The whisper of violent grasses is heard.
Whether I shall hear laught of a stream
behind a pass?
I have gone tens of years
on the mountain of my dream.
That I have seen here!
There is rainbow above snows,
a lightning, the Sun, the SKY.
It is the Heart of all ways.
We are always
perfect, holy and pure.
Hear a bell
of my Clime of Snows!
Bon… Bon… Bon… Bon… Bon…
Pawo Dorje, Bon child
Shen Chen Ling in Minsk
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