The Butterfly Is Not A Dream ...

Ven. Sujiva

A poem by Ven. Sujiva

That crimson flare

Which warms at first sight.

Now sears the heart with pain.Foolish man! Feel not sad,

Count yourself fortunate. Better it is, to lose a finger

Than to sacrifice ones whole life for a sip of honey.

Smoldering grey clouds, hovering darkness, thick and suffocating,

These repercussions of vanity weigh down your eyelids.

The worst of the storm has passed, picking up the wreckage,

You discover what your folly cost you.

After rendezvous, parting follows, and from craving arises woe.

When pleasure fade, suffering enters the stage with a loud bang and scream.

These truths – not that you are unaware, but since you forgot.

You see them again, now right before you, your deep love burns with fire. That only storm can extinguish. Cry if you can’t help it.

But by all means, do not end the world.

Alas! what mistakes man can commit, he repeats. I can forgive him a thousand times and more.

And each time present a gift of a lotus petal accompanied with a drop of compassion dripped down

From the bitter nimb tree leaf. But what really matters is that you can forgive

While others may still hate, forgive the sky and the earth

Forgive the ocean and all Mankind. If you can do that,

Turn around to find, see that pretty butterfly fluttering

From jasmines to roses, how busy she is,

With the affairs of the world. Why must you feel so sorrowful

When the beauty of Nature is yours, all yours!

No, that butterfly is not a dream, That woman is, and the man too

And that conflagration of love that you bathed in with sheer delight

Is the substance from which nightmares are made!