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Mahayana
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{English-Poetics 1}
O Fortune like the moon,
you ever wane
but to regain
your former circumstance;
life is equally fain
to decimate
as reenstate
the mind with games of chance,
prosperity
and penury
reversing with a glance.
Immense and futile fate,
uneasy ground,
safety unsound,
mistakenly awaited,
to your wheel I am bound;
you have hidden your face
denied your grace,
for sorrow was I slated,
I have lost the knack
this barren back
Shows what you have perpetrated.
Unknown to me remain
salvations lot,
of virtue aught;
equally loss and gain
await the hangmans knot.
This very hour fails my power,
my pulse beats on the wane..
fortune is a knave
to impale the brave,
all weep now for my pain.
{English Poetics 2}
O Fortune,
variable as the moon
always dost thou wax and wane.
Detestable life,
first dost thou mistreat us,
and then whimsically,
thou heedest our desires.
As the sun melts the ice,
so dost thou dissolve
both poverty and power.
Monstrous and empty fate,
thou, turning wheel, a
art mean, voiding
good health at thy will.
Veiled in obscurity,
thou dost attack me also.
To thy cruel pleasure
I bare my back.
Thou dost withdraw
my health and virtue;
thou dost threaten
my emotion and weakness with torture.
At this hour, therefore let us
pluck the strings without delay.
Let us mourn together,
for fate crushes the brave.
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020207
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