The Fifth Dalai Lama, sometimes referred to as the Great, was a prolific scholar and philosopher. He was also a buddhist monk seriously devoted to the practice of meditation. Towards the end of his days he decided to retired from public life and political functions and to devot himself fully to a more intense spiritual life. When the 5th died (in 1682) his regent kept his death a secret for several years. He run the Tibetan country as if nothing has happened maintaining that the 5th had entered a strict meditation retreat that cannot be interrupted. Consequently, the regent did not announce that the search party found a young boy (the 6th Dalai Lama) who was the reincarnation of the 5th. In effect, Tsangyang Tshomo Gyatso -- the Sixth Dalai Lama (1683-1706) -- did not receive the traditional monastic training that usually starts at early childhood. The Sixth began his training as a novice monk relatively late, never took the full monastic vows, and eventually he renounced even his novice vows. He did not care about pomp, official duties, and politics. He continued his life openly as a lay person, including cavorting in the town with his lovers.

The following poems and biography are adopted from The Tourquise Bee: The Lovesongs of the Sixth Dalai lLma (tr. Rick Field, Brian Cutillo, Mayumi Oda, HarperSanFrancisco, 1998)

*  *  *
By drawing diagrams on the ground
The stars of space can be measured
Though familiar with the soft flesh
of my lover's body
I cannot measure her depth

*  *  *
The arrow of fortune is shot.
It strikes the target
Or buries its tip in the ground.
Since I've met my new lover
My heart flies after her all on its own.

*  *  *
I tied a prayer flag for my new beloved
At the side of a willow tree.
Keeper of willows,
Please don't tear it down.

*  *  *
Thinking of my long-time lover --
Does she lack shame and faithfulness?
Too bad her turquoise head-dress
Can't talk!

*  *  *
This moon fades away,
Next month's moon will shine again.
My lover and I shall meet
When the lucky full moon rises.

*  *  *
Daughter of a great official --
Like seeing a ripe fruit,
The fine apricot of Kham
At the tip of the highest tree.

 

The following poem appeared originally in John Stevens, Lust For Enlightments (Shambhala)

*  *  *
If the bar-girl does not falter
The beer will flow on and on
This maiden is my refuge
And this place is my heaven

Longing for the landlord's daughter
A perfect ripe peach
Pining away
On the highest branches

Using astrology
I can easily measure the stars
yet intimate as I am with her soft body
I cannot fathom the depth of her love

Raindrops can wash away
Love letters written in black and white
Love written in the hart
Can never be erased

I seek counsel from a wise lama
To escape from my predicament
But my mind reminds captivated
By my sweetheart
If one thoughts toward the Dharma
Were of the same intensity as those towards love
One would become a Buddha
In this very body, in this very life

Mix pure crystal snow-mountain water
Vajra dew of the dragon demon
With herbal nectar for the yeast starter.
The bar girl is the Dakini of Wisdom:
If you drink with a pure commitment
There is no need to experience hell 

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