Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FARING OF FA-HIEN, by CALE YOUNG RICE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE FARING OF FA-HIEN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Through gobiland's sea of sand
Last Line: I, fa-hien.'
Subject(s): Buddhism; Deserts; Food & Eating; Monks; Religion; Travel; Buddha; Buddhists; Theology; Journeys; Trips


Through Gobiland's sea of sand,
Where pilgrim bones are mile-stones,
Where no birds sing, no beasts run,
Where there is only sun and sun,
Went Fa-Hien.

He was faring, a monk of Han,
Out through the desert, past Khotan;
Through hot winds and demon sands,
That haunted the way in swirling bands,
He was going to Buddha lands,
Was Fa-Hien.

His camel was chosen at Changgan,
His place was bought in the caravan.
'All is maya, a dream of man,'
He said as the desert sea began,
And said it again as the hot sea ran,
Did Fa-Hien.

For the air was thirst, the sun desire,
And his blood became a passion fire.
He saw cool waves and soft-limbed slaves,
As only a man can see who craves.
'From woman nothing truly saves,'
Thought Fa-Hien.

But soon they vanished, one and all,
When he had reached Khotan's sure wall.
For stealing from its mystic calm
He thought he felt Lord Buddha's 'Om'
Laid on him like a spirit balm,
Did Fa-Hien.

So on, through perilous Hindu Kush,
Down to the Indus did he push,
Down rocky steeps, wild and hilly,
To where the Ganges flows stilly,
For he was fain of the Lotus-lily, --
Fa-Hien.

Yes, fain in the place of Buddha's birth
To find the Way of Priceless Worth;
In Kohana to reach Nirvana
And take back thence some secret manna --
For it is here, surely here,
Mused Fa-Hien.

And so, ten years, of monk and sage
He questioned, scanning the sutras' page;
And miracle -- and magic too
He wandered through and pondered through,
Till spent he said, 'No Creed will do,'
Did Fa-Hien.

Then old light through him sifted back,
And life no more was maya-black.
'Nirvana's far from all who preach it;
But the world's near and I can reach it;
Give to me then what's good for men,'
Said Fa-Hien.

So forth he sailed from Ganges' mouth
To that fair emerald in the South,
To far Ceylon, and thence fared on,
Through desert seas, past night and dawn, --
His camel a ship by the winds drawn,
Did Ha-Hien.

And back to the tawny Yang-tze came,
Where life was teeming ever the same.
And when his junk, with the tide drunk,
Was moored, he said, 'I'm still a monk,
But I am a man who trusts time's plans,
I, Fa-Hien.'





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