I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe. If I could meditate upon the Dharma, as intensely as I muse on my beloved, I would certainly attain enlightenment, surely, in this one lifetime. Light Crain. Lend me your wings. I will not fly far. From Lathang, I shall return. Yama, the mirror of my karma, residing in the realm of death, you must judge and grant justice. Here, while alive, I had no justice. Never have I slept without a sweetheart, nor have I spent a single drop of sperm. Over the eastern hills rises, the smiling face of the moon, in my mind forms, the smiling face of my beloved. Yesterday's young sprouting shoots, our withered straws today, like the aging body of a youth, stiff bent as a southern bow. If only I could wed, the one whom I love, joys of gaining the choicest gem, from the ocean's deepest bed would be mine. She smells sweet of body, my sweet heart, the highway queen, like the worthless white turquoise. She was found, to be thrown away. Playing for the landlord's daughter, blossoming in youthful beauty, is like pining for peaches, ripening on the high peach trees. Sleep as I am, because I am in love, fatigue and frustration overwhelm, when day brings not my beloved to me. Spring flowers fade in the fall. It is not for the turquoise bees to mourn. I and my sweet heart are faded to part. It is not for us to cry. Frost gathers on the glistering flowers, and then the cold north wind blows. The frost and the wind must have come, to drive the bees away from the flowers. I incline myself, to the teachings of my llama, but my heart secretly escapes, to the thoughts of my sweet heart. Even if meditated upon, the face of my llama comes not to me, but again and again comes to me, the smiling face of my beloved. When my luck was good, I hoisted auspicious prayer flags, and the young lady of noble birth, hosted me at her home. Our sweet smile is, to steal away my young heart. If your love for me is true, promise me so, from the depths of your heart. When the gem was mine, I cared not, and ignored its value. Now that the gem is lost to others, melancholy overwhelms me, as its pure worth dawns on me. My sweet heart who truly loved me, has been stolen to wed another. I am sick with longing sorrow, and frustration emaciates my frail body. In my dreams often, I see my lost beloved, a sooth-sare I must seek, to search for her soon for me. If the maiden will live forever, the wine will flow evermore. The tavern is my haven, with wine I am content. My beloved from childhood, seems to be of the wolf's race. Even after many nights together, she tries to escape, like the wolves, to the hills. To the wings of this eagle, the wind and the rocks have been cruel. The sly at scheming ones, have harassed me, always without ceasing. King Coults, hide frosts and hailstorms, he who is a half-munk, is a hidden enemy of the dharma. The moon tonight seems, to be the full moon, but the hair inside the moon, does not seem to be alive. Like the rising moon of the third day, my beloved is dressed as pure and white, but on the full moon of the fifteenth day, take an oath of meeting as pure and bright. Even the stars in the sky, can be measured by astrology. Her body can be caressed, but not so fathomed, her deep in a longing. Sweet heart awaiting me in my bed, yielding tenderly her sweet soft body, as she come to cheat me, and disrobe me of my virtues. Peacocks from Eastern India, parrot from the depths of Compo, though born in separate countries, finally come together, in the holy land of Lassa. People gossip about me. I am sorry for what I have done. I have taken three thin steps, and landed myself in the tavern of my mistress. In the short walk of this life, we have had our share of joy. Let us hope to meet again, in the youth of our next life. The garalous parrot, please stay with your mouth shut. The thrush in the willow grove, has promised to sing a song for me. Drawing diagrams I measured, movements of the stars, though her tender flesh is near. Her mind I cannot measure. The mastiff, as fierce as a leopard or tiger, have I easily calmed by a piece of meat, yet the tigers do I have at home however, becomes more fierce than all we live together. From the peaks of the western mountains, I see white clouds boiling in the sky. It is the smoke of fragrant incense, and offering from the one whose one my heart.