1 | My Friend Ragpa Zhabdrung

During the party’s descent from the sacred caves, Lelung noticed his close companion Ragpa Zhabdrung walking ahead of the group. He responded with this affectionate and teasing portrait, contrasting Ragpa’s unappealing outward appearance with the substance and warmth he possessed within.[1]

My friend, Ragpa Zhabdrung—

Viewed from the outside,

He’s enough to make you vomit.

Viewed from within,

He certainly carries some weight.

Viewed on the secret level,

There’s a pleasing warmth about him.

When he climbs up the mountain,

He’s like a frog leaping to the sky.

When he descends the mountain,

He’s like a boulder tumbling down.

When set down on the level plain,

He’s like a lump of butter wrapped in tsampa dough.

If you’re going to call anyone a friend,

Let it be this one!

Thus I sang!

2 | Song of the Mad Yogins

Afterwards, Ragpa Zhabdrung and several others hosted a feast of innumerable kinds of food and drink. Lelung sang many more spontaneous songs. Most of those present were moved to tears and cried out loudly; their meditative experience blazed so intensely that they passed the day without noticing weariness, hunger or thirst. When the party reached Khandro Ling, Lelung sang the following vajra song amid the assembled brothers and sisters.

Upon reaching E Lam Ling, the supreme sacred site, The Joyful Grove of the Dākinīs:

Behold the spectacle of Zhepe Dorje,

The mad yogin born at Zang Ri—

O fortunate brothers and sisters!

Though our mouths and eyes, our hands and feet,

Are alike in number and form,

We vajra brothers and sisters

Do not all go mad the same way.

Outwardly, we’ve gone mad—

Whatever arises, we embrace as yogic conduct.

Inwardly, we’ve gone mad—

Drunk on the wine of eloquent teachings,

Nectar profound and vast.

Secretly, we’ve gone mad—

Training in the natural state,

Wide open, free from all grasping.

How happy are we, the mad yogins—

Outer, inner, and secret all in accord!

When fortunate men and women look at us,

Admiration arises.[2]

When those with wrong views look at us,

They cannot help but vomit.

When those with equanimity look at us,

Appearances and mind are at ease.

With all appearance and existence in the state of HŪṂ,

Having sung the far-reaching song of HŪṂ,

And stamped the vajra dance of HŪṂ,

Rest completely in the state of HŪṂ!

HŪṂ HŪṂ HŪṂ

Thus I sang!

3 | My Name Is Zhepe Dorje [3]

The account says only that Lelung’s meditative experience flared up once more. In the same charged atmosphere, and immediately after ‘Song of the Mad Yogins’, he turned to a playful reinterpretation of his own name.

When those with pure perception look at me

I am Dorje, who makes devotion bloom.

When those with wrong views look at me,

I am Dorje, who makes scornful laughter erupt.

When those with indifference look at me,

I am Dorje, who makes meditative experience dawn.

When the lamas look upon me,

I am Dorje, upon whom blessings stream forth.

When the yidam deities look upon me,

I am Dorje, upon whom accomplishments ripen.

When the ḍākinīs look upon me,

I am Dorje, with whom great bliss surges.

When the oath-bound protectors look upon me,

I am Dorje, who attracts delighted smiles.

Thus I also sang.

COLOPHON

None

NOTE

[1] The contextual introductions preceding each song have been supplied by the translators, based on the surrounding prose narrative; they are not direct translations of passages in the Tibetan text.

[2] Translation note: Each of these three lines ends with rang bzhin, literally “nature” or “character.” It functions here as a noun referring to the character of the experience arising in those who look upon the yogins, rather than to the yogins’ own nature. Since an explicit translation would be cumbersome and repetitive in English, its sense has been absorbed into the construction of each line.

[3] A play on words runs through this song that English cannot reproduce directly. Every stanza turns on the Tibetan verb bzhad, the same word repeated throughout and the central element of Lelung’s own name, Zhepe Dorje (bzhad pa'i rdo rje). The Tibetan verb bzhad has two principal senses: to open or blossom, as a flower does, and, honorifically, to laugh or smile. As the song moves through seven different groups of viewers, Lelung repeatedly reinterprets his own name: for those with pure perception, devotion blooms; among those with wrong views, scornful laughter erupts; for the indifferent, meditative experience dawns; and with the ḍākinīs, great bliss surges. To produce natural and meaningful English, the translation renders the line-ending verb somewhat freely according to each context. It is therefore worth remembering that, where the English uses several different expressions, the Tibetan repeats the same verb, bzhad, throughout.

In this and the following two lines, the Tibetan ends with (rang bzhin), “nature.” It indicates that each is the characteristic response produced when that particular group looks upon the yogins. Because the Tibetan leaves unstated exactly whose “nature” is meant, translating the word directly would be unclear, so its sense has been absorbed into the reactions described.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Sle lung rje drung Bzhad pa’i rdo rje. 1983. “Lwa ba pa’i gzims phug dang dpal lha dang jag me’i gsang phug sogs ngo ’phrod pa’i lo rgyus dran pa’i me long.” In Gsung ’bum Bzhad pa’i rdo rje, vol. 9, 1–27. Leh: T. Sonam and D. L. Tashigang. BDRC. BDRC MW22130_68F4B4.