The Ghost and the Master

Post sayings or stories from Buddhist traditions which you find interesting, inspiring or useful. (Your own stories are welcome on DW, but in the Creative Writing or Personal Experience forums rather than here.)
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Nicholas Weeks
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Joined: Mon Apr 06, 2009 4:21 am
Location: California

The Ghost and the Master

Postby Nicholas Weeks » Mon Aug 30, 2010 1:25 am

Long ago, Great Master Hui Ming visited Mt. Meng. There he met a ghost who used to be a fine scholar. Even though a ghost he still uttered poems. After meeting Master Hui Ming, the ghostly poet composed one:

Dreams are long here in this wild
and forlorn desolation.
I have become too languid to care about
success or failure, about past and present,
Or how many bunches of grass I have pulled
and bouquets of flowers I have picked.
The bitter rain and biting wind
almost break my heart.
I flit in and out with the fireflies during
the dark of the night.
My shadow of a form I hide
when cocks crow at first light.
My only regret is not having cultivated
the mind-ground from the start.
Hence my fall into the realm of phantoms.
Oh, the tears roll down my face.


After the ghost sang the poem the Great Master Hui Ming taught the Dharma for him. As a result the former scholar-ghost left his realm and was reborn in a higher one.
A man should not judge a man, for he harms himself very quickly, that man who judges a man. Only I or someone like me can assess a man.

Buddha in the Surangamasamadhi Sutra

muni
Posts: 4052
Joined: Fri Apr 17, 2009 6:59 am

Re: The Ghost and the Master

Postby muni » Mon Nov 08, 2010 11:09 am

Will wrote:Long ago, Great Master Hui Ming visited Mt. Meng. There he met a ghost who used to be a fine scholar. Even though a ghost he still uttered poems. After meeting Master Hui Ming, the ghostly poet composed one:

Dreams are long here in this wild
and forlorn desolation.
I have become too languid to care about
success or failure, about past and present,
Or how many bunches of grass I have pulled
and bouquets of flowers I have picked.
The bitter rain and biting wind
almost break my heart.
I flit in and out with the fireflies during
the dark of the night.
My shadow of a form I hide
when cocks crow at first light.
My only regret is not having cultivated
the mind-ground from the start.
Hence my fall into the realm of phantoms.
Oh, the tears roll down my face.


After the ghost sang the poem the Great Master Hui Ming taught the Dharma for him. As a result the former scholar-ghost left his realm and was reborn in a higher one.


Beautiful.
Rest in natural great peace this exhausted mind,
Beaten helplessly by karma and neurotic thoughts
Like the relentless fury of the pounding waves
In the infinite ocean of samsara.
Rest in natural great peace.
~Nyoshul Khenpo Rinpoche


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