In Doubt and Conflict

Some day, at some hour, no one will know
what's happening.
I won't be the same,
I'll become another me,
not as I am now,
as you had wanted,
and when I wasn't, in hurt or anger,
you pushed me away and said,
"Stay as you are,
I too will stay as I am.
Let the distance remain, keep it far!"
When I become like you,
will your heart call to me then, truly?
 
All the familiar ones will look on amazed, silent-eyed,
saying with measured words, trembling in doubt,
"Who are you now, brother?
By what trick, what magic did you become this way?"
All the strangers will say with laughter,
"Come, settle in your own country,
floating in music's ferry,
sit beside us, blend in love.
How long have you been our neighbor,
where were you? Come close, awaken in our hearts."
In that strangeness, in doubt alas, I'll grow restless.
When I break that vow,
this path will be lost carelessly then,
on new paths in new chariots, even if wrong, I'll surrender rights.
If that happens, however I become, whatever I am, thinking of you I'll accept it.
All feelings will take leave,
I won't bind myself anymore
in maya's shadows. Where is love's place—
you'll understand in your flesh, in the mocking curve of lips.
 
Know this:
I won't look at that sky anymore,
won't search for that unreachable one
whom the old you wanted me to find by searching.
I won't listen in silence,
I'll bid farewell to stillness.
When melody comes to this life,
when the heart searches seven chambers
for where the flute of living lies,
I gave my word—I'll keep the mind's door locked and bolted.
 
Everything I've kept alive watered with hatred,
all of that will come close,
I'll pull it to my chest.
The hatred won't remain
as it was before. I'll live then on thorns' wounds—
all good things, love, remembering, being together—
I'll kick everything away with fierce rage.
Painted with love's color, as before,
I won't come anymore. I won't cry anymore when I see
love's gesture is false. If you say "I love you,"
I'll say laughing, "Enough now, let there be
the body's offering. This is real, this is actual!"
Let the vast palace of mind rise and tremble,
let the storm winds grow,
I'll let it grow in that very palace, however much it shakes!
 
The path I've never set foot on,
the path my mind never forgot to avoid,
I give my word, these eyes are witness,
I'll build my dwelling on that very path.
Conscience will speak, cruel laughter in the corners of eyes.
I know it all, yet self-interest will pull me.
Watch me run like a horse,
they'll dance, lifting on their heads, forgetting wisdom—
those who now sway carelessly, kick with their feet.
How wonderful!—everyone will say
when I do good to them
as a fine calculation of debt and credit.
Forgetting to keep my word,
all hurt will flee laughing.
With lightened body I'll float up.
Let so many people cry,
let them burn, let them die,
I'll laugh in my own happiness
with eyes bound shut, lest those eyes see another's pain.
 
I'll stay well like everyone,
false ego's balloon will fly
meeting the wind, burning senseless.
Yet I'll remain that way
in my own room with myself in my own happiness.
Let sorrow stay in others' homes—I won't touch it!
Weaving lies, building lies,
covering truth, adding lies,
I'll go on winning. Even if momentary,
I'll take that victory to my chest,
laugh terribly, dance in intoxication.
In my understanding, in delusion's trap,
let conscience hide in shame
at my deeds. What does it matter!
 
Those who bind me with care—
with respect, fame, and affection,
loving with their hearts, keeping me above their heads—
I'll step aside in contempt, bid them farewell.
If I laugh, the world laughs,
that's the rule! Those people,
let them be or not be,
what does it matter if it's true?
I'll love well, exactly as much
as they love me well.
Let it break before building,
I'll build again, just as one builds
clay dolls in various molds, various styles,
various whims, various gaps.
The age's appreciation of doll-love,
love's body of dust—
what price will I get being human?
Drowning in love, in your gold,
losing everything, I'll become a doll.
At all the colorful hand's gestures
I'll respond. Body will meet, keeping mind aside,
I'll revel in that game at that wrong time with cunning eyes.
Seeing all this, don't say in ugly anger,
"Why is this you like this?
I didn't want this you!
Body pale, mind precious—
old you, wake up again.
This time...go away, go away!"
 
Are you thinking when I'll become like that?
When will I wear such a mask?
When will I become you and forget myself? Remain that way?
Get a little angry, sit in the wind, see what happens!
Why think it's all deception?
Why should I stay
as I am now
when you don't want it?
I give my word, I'll change,
completely, like you,
just as you want.
Just tell me,
if then you suddenly change
in terrible rage,
binding me,
throwing me away
to that distance,
if life
is lost in emptiness?
When I lose myself,
what will I live with then?