Psalms of the Brethren CLXVI: Culaka

Hark! how the peacocks make the welkin ring,
Fair-crested, fine their plumes and azure throat,
Graceful in shape and pleasant in their cry.
And see how this broad landscape watered well
Lies verdure-clad beneath the dappled sky!

Healthy thy frame and fit and vigorous
To make good progress in the Buddha’s rule.
Come then and grasp the rapt thought of the saint,
And touch the crystal bright, the subtly deep,
The elusive mystery — even the Way
Where dying cometh not, ineffable.