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Category: Padma Drolma

Infinite Consort

From Flickr

Nothing will remain
It will be brief
Still I want you inside
The minutes I serve you
In the water mirror
I offer you
Endless Mandalas
Until the meeting of the suns
I touch the unreal
It makes me smile
And sigh
The stream goes by
I weave my fingers into yours
One Last Time
Today I’ll be reminiscing about you
And as the consort of infinity
I shall rise

Show me the Truth

This poem on insight and illusion was translated from Portuguese to English by Daniela Boeira.

Show me the truth
Honey is sweet by nature
Offer me the most precious treasure
The lamp that dissipates the darkness
Within my hesitant mind
Small and slow steps
Your enlightened compassion does not waver
While cutting sharply through illusions
I see my attachments
My lies
Artifices
Naked under your gaze
It hurts but relieves
I discern my delicate anatomy
While anesthetized
I find myself helpless to resist
Stunned I sleep
Soundly I awake
My gratitude
I express honour to Your teachings
Namo Guru
May the realization of emptiness
Break the hollow conception of the ego

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Mother of the Dharma Body

Padma Drolma

This poem on the feminine infinite is offered in its Portuguese original and its English translation.  

Drolma
Dharmakaya Mother
Space of the beginningless end
Ineffable and ever present
Your touch is my very skin
Free us from the imprisoning mind
From the coarse eyes that only perceive lies
I hear with delight the melody of life and death
Without moving from you
Teach me the presence of emptiness* in the whirlwind of appearances

Drolma
Mãe Dharmakaya
Espaço do fim sem começo
Inefável e sempre presente
Seu toque é minha própria pele
Nos liberte da mente que aprisiona
Dos olhos grosseiros que só percebem mentiras
Ouço com delícia a melodia da vida e da morte
Sem me mover de ti
Ensina me a presença da vacuidade no turbilhão das aparências

Devotion to the Guru

Padma Drolma

And if in all the beads nothing comes up

I won’t forget you
I’ll give another turn
Despite my thousand stumbles

For I know that thin are the lines which separate mastery from fear
They are tiny and do not define
Space is the shelter that does not welcome
It afflicts me with the idea of freedom 

Guru

And I see that your coiled rope was firm
That your guidance was accurate
Yet I sought to anticipate the route
Instead of holding 
Your hand

In reverence I address you with my voice
May my words not err
In conveying my vows of prosperity

Give way to obscuration
In the gallop of the Tupi nation
Paired with Kham 

Lord of the Dance
Our Master 
I hail

I request for passage
To him I prostrate
And in deep gratitude
I exalt his steps

Seed of Dharma planted
In the cold and damp soil
Among crowns 
Three

Buddha 
Dharma 
Sangha

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