Himalayan Fire (히말라야의 불)

By | 22 May 2011

As you casually entered the gompa
—travel weary, a meagre warmth in you
too much mist in the lungs—
the winter sun hit the sutras.

The mountain light, having raised the black frost
shafted the night wind south
raided the cave
struck the west wall.

The ten thousand leaves slept in their boxes.
Their hundred thousand sounds
were wrapped in saffron.
The scrolls were as separate as toffees.

Then, with the wall as good as on fire
and every box glowing like an old coal
you could hear the seed syllables
crackling away inside you.

– Darjeeling 2005

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