Could be Buddhist… but isn’t (post your quotes)

Hi @hazutaz

Welcome to the D&D forum!

Enjoy the multiple resources here available; may these be of assistance along the path.

Should you have any questions about the forum, feel free to contact the @moderators.

Regards,
suaimhneas (on behalf of the moderators)

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thank you for the friendly welcoming :slight_smile:

a poem from Friederich Rückert in german:

Es ging ein Mann im Syrerland,
Führt’ ein Kamel am Halfterband.
Das Tier mit grimmigen Gebärden
Urplötzlich anfing scheu zu werden
Und tat so ganz entsetzlich schnaufen,
Der Führer vor ihm mußt entlaufen.
Er lief und einen Brunnen sah
Von ungefähr am Wege da.
Das Tier hört’ er im Rücken schnauben,
Das mußt’ ihm die Besinnung rauben.
Er in den Schacht des Brunnens kroch,
Er stürzte nicht, er schwebte noch.
Gewachsen war ein Brombeerstrauch
aus des geborstnen Brunnens Bauch;
Darein der Mann sich fest tat klammern,
Und seinen Zustand drauf bejammern.
Er blickte in die Höh’, und sah
Dort das Kamelhaupt furchtbar nah’,
Das ihn wollt’ oben fassen wieder.
Dann blickt’ er in den Brunnen nieder;
Da sah am Grund er einen Drachen
Aufgähnen mit entsperrtem Rachen,
Der drunten ihn verschlingen wollte,
Wenn er hinunterfallen sollte.
So schwebend in der beiden Mitte,
Da sah der Arme noch das dritte.
Wo in die Mauerspalte ging
Des Sträuchleins Wurzel, dran er hing,
Da sah er still ein Mäusepaar,
Schwarz eine, weiß die andre war.
Er sah die schwarze mit der weißen
Abwechselnd an der Wurzel beißen.
Sie nagten, zausten, gruben, wühlten,
Die Erd’ ab von der Wurzel spülten;
Und wie sie rieselnd niederrann,
Der Drach’ im Grund aufblickte dann,
Zu sehn, wie bald mit seiner Bürde
Der Strauch entwurzelt fallen würde.
Der Mann in Angst und Furcht und Not,
Umstellt, umlagert und umdroht,
Im Stand des jammerhaften Schwebens,
Sah sich nach Rettung um vergebens.
Und da er also um sich blickte,
Sah er ein Zweiglein, welches nickte
Vom Brombeerstrauch mit reifen Beeren;
Da konnt’ er doch der Lust nicht wehren.
Er sah nicht des Kameles Wut,
Und nicht den Drachen in der Flut,
Und nicht der Mäuse Tückespiel,
Als ihm die Beer’ ins Auge fiel.
Er ließ das Tier von oben rauschen
Und unter sich den Drachen lauschen,
Und neben sich die Mäuse nagen,
Griff nach den Beerlein mit Behagen,
Sie deuchten ihn zu essen gut,
Aß Beer’ auf Beerlein wohlgemut,
Und durch die Süßigkeit im Essen
War alle seine Furcht vergessen.

Du fragst: „Wer ist der töricht’ Mann,
Der so die Furcht vergessen kann?“
So wiss’, o Freund, der Mann bist du;
Vernimm die Deutung auch dazu.
Es ist der Drach’ im Brunnengrund
Des Todes aufgesperrter Schlund;
Und das Kamel, das oben droht,
Es ist des Lebens Angst und Not:
Du bist’s, der zwischen Tod und Leben
Am grünen Strauch der Welt mußt schweben.
Die beiden, so die Wurzel nagen,
Dich samt den Zweigen die dich tragen,
Zu liefern in des Todes Macht,
Die Mäuse heißen Tag und Nacht.
Es nagt die schwarze wohl verborgen
Vom Abend heimlich bis zum Morgen,
Es nagt vom Morgen bis zum Abend
Die weiße, wurzeluntergrabend.
Und zwischen diesem Graus und Wust
Lockt dich die Beere Sinnenlust,
Daß du Kamel, die Lebensnot,
Daß du im Grund den Drachen Tod,
Daß du die Mäuse Tag und Nacht
vergissest, und auf nichts hast acht,
Als daß du recht viel Beerlein haschest,
Aus Grabes Brunnenritzen naschest.

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Hi @hazutaz,

Would you kindly know if there is an English translation available, for non German speakers?

With Metta,
Ric

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Found it here: A Parable poem - Friedrich Ruckert

A Parable

by Friedrich Ruckert

Friedrich Rückert

In Syria walked a man one day
And led a camel on the way.
A sudden wildness seized the beast,
And as they strove its rage increased.
So fearsome grew its savagery
That for his life the man must flee.
And as he ran, he spied a cave
That one last chance of safety gave.
He heard the snorting beast behind
Come nearer–with distracted mind
Leaped where the cooling fountain sprang,
Yet not to fall, but catch and hang;
By lucky hap a bramble wild
Grew where the o’erhanging rocks were piled.
He saved himself by this alone,
And did his hapless state bemoan.
He looked above, and there was yet
Too close the furious camel’s threat
That still of fearful rage was full.
He dropped his eyes toward the pool,
And saw within the shadows dim
A dragon’s jaws agape for him–
A still more fierce and dangerous foe
If he should slip and fall below.
So, hanging midway of the two,
He spied a cause of terror new:
Where to the rock’s deep crevice clung
The slender root on which he swung,
A little pair of mice he spied,
A black and white one side by side–
First one and then the other saw
The slender stem alternate gnaw.
They gnawed and bit with ceaseless toil,
And from the roots they tossed the soil.
As down it ran in trickling stream,
The dragon’s eyes shot forth a gleam
Of hungry expectation, gazed
Where o’er him still the man was raised,
To see how soon the bush would fall,
The burden that it bore, and all.
That man in utmost fear and dread
Surrounded, threatened, hard bested,
In such a state of dire suspense
Looked vainly round for some defense.
And as he cast his bloodshot eye
First here, then there, saw hanging nigh
A branch with berries ripe and red;
Then longing mastered all his dread;
No more the camel’s rage he saw,
Nor yet the lurking dragon’s maw,
Nor malice of the gnawing mice,
When once the berries caught his eyes.
The furious beast might rage above,
The dragon watch his every move,
The mice gnaw on–naught heeded he,
But seized the berries greedily–
In pleasing of his appetite
The furious beast forgotten quite.

You ask, “What man could ever yet,
So foolish, all his fears forget?”
Then know, my friend, that man are you–
And see the meaning plain to view.
The dragon in the pool beneath
Sets forth the yawning jaws of death;
The beast from which you helpless flee
Is life and all its misery.
There you must hang 'twixt life and death
While in this world you draw your breath.
The mice, whose pitiless gnawing teeth
Will let you to the pool beneath
Fall down, a hopeless castaway,
Are but the change of night and day.
The black one gnaws concealed from sight
Till comes again the morning light;
From dawn until the eve is gray,
Ceaseless the white one gnaws away.
And, 'midst this dreadful choice of ills,
Pleasure of sense your spirit fills
Till you forget the terrors grim
That wait to tear you limb from limb,
The gnawing mice of day and night,
And pay no heed to aught in sight
Except to fill your mouth with fruit
That in the grave-clefts has its root.

I like that one! @hazutaz, your post reminds me of an old vinyl disk I used to have where this poem was recited. :heart:


And I even found that recitation, accompanied by guitarist David Qualey:


And, @Bodhipaksa, I’d still be curious if there is a Buddhist source for this story somewhere. Are you aware of any?

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The various versions of the story were borrowed by just about everybody, including the Buddhists. Monika Zin’s lengthy paper, The Parable of “The Man in the Well”. Its Travels and its Pictorial Traditions from Amaravati to Today will tell you more about it than you ever wanted to know:

The parable of ‘The Man in the Well’ was the object of Indological research long before Vogel, as part of the 19th century vogue for comparative studies of literary motifs, and the story was therefore known in Europe. Friedrich Rückert, the pioneer of Oriental Studies and also a popular German poet, published the translation of the parable in 1823 based on the poem of the 13th century Persian Sufi mystic, Rûmî (cf. infra, p. 54). Rückert’s poem made the parable commonly known in Germany and shortly afterwards other versions began to circulate, including versions from India.

In 1859 Theodor Benfey, followed in 1860 by Felix Liebrecht and in 1888 by Ernst Kuhn, was able to deliver the first summing up about the spreading of the parable. Kuhn (1888: 70) demonstrated beyond any doubt that the parable originally came from India since its elements were known from earlier Indian sources: the chase by an elephant and the fall into a pit were already referred to as similes in the Brhadāranyakopanisad. Today, our knowledge about the parable is more extensive: we know that it is rendered in the Mahābhārata, in four Jaina sources, namely in the Vasudevahindi of Sanghadāsa, in the Samarāicca-kahā of Haribhadra, in the Parisista-parvan of Hemacandra and in the Dharma-parīksā of Amitagati.

The Buddhist sources did not survive in Indian languages but we have six Chinese translations, namely T 208 (Nj. 1366: ‘The Samyuktāvadāna-sūtra, selected from various sūtras, of Kumārajiva’, 405 CE), T 217 (Nj. 735: ‘Sūtra spoken by Buddha on [eight] comparisons’), T 1690 (Nj. 1347: ‘Sūtra on the cause [Nidāna] of the preaching of the law [delivered] by Pindola Bharadvāja to King Udayana’ of Gunabhadra, 435–443 CE), T 2121 (Nj. 1473: ‘[A collection of extracts] on different subjects from Sūtras and Vinaya works’, compiled by San-min, 516 CE), T 2122 (Nj. 1482: ‘Pearl-grove of the garden of the law’, compiled by Tao shi, 668 CE) and T 2131 (Nj. 1640: ‘A collection of the meanings of the [Sanskrit] names translated [into Chinese]’ of Fa-yun, 1151 CE). There is also one Tibetan version, but it is very different from the Indian one.

The sources differ from one another in the presence or absence of particular elements of the parable and through the explanation of the allegory.

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Wow, thank you so much! :pray:

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Ah, so it doesn’t really belong in this thread, now does it! :joy: This thread is only for quotes that aren’t Buddhist, thank you very much! :rofl:

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@sabamitta & @mumfie, thank you much for the nice follow up to the post about the F. Rückert poem :slight_smile:

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another famous one: :slight_smile:

Let It Be - The Beatles

When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

And in my hour of darkness
She is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the broken-hearted people
Living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be

For though they may be parted
There is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Yeah, there will be an answer, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Ah, let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine on until tomorrow, let it be

I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
Oh, there will be an answer, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be an answer, let it be

Let it be, let it be
Ah, let it be, yeah, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

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„Stop. In the name of love“

The Buddhas word towards Angulimala

Cover version by the Supremes :smile:

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“i/o (Bright-Side Mix)”
I’m just a part of everything
I stand on two legs and I learn to sing
It’s not what were said
It’s not what I heard
I walk with my dog and I whistle with a bird
Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything
Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything

So we think we really live apart
Because we’ve got two legs, a brain, and a heart
We all belong to everything
To the octopus suckers and the buzzard’s wing
To the elephant’s trunk and buzzing bee’s sting
Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything
I’m just a part of everything

i/o, i/o
Coming out, I’m going in
i/o, i/o
I’m just a part of everything

I learn like a baby, I learn like a seed
Spread out my tubers wherever I need
I find any way to attach and connect
And I run like water, no cause or effect

Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything
Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything

When the panting is over and the warmth has run out
Love will be flowing, I have no doubt
With the vehicle in neutral and the ground to be faced
I’ll be all laid to rest in my proper place
Into the roots in the old oak tree
Where life can move freely in and out of me

Stuff coming out, stuff going in
I’m just a part of everything

i/o, i/o
Coming out, I’m going in
i/o, i/o
I’m just a part of everything

i/o, i/o
Coming out, I’m going in
i/o, i/o
I’m just a part of everything

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Today I was struck by an absurd but valid sensation. I realized, in an inner flash, that I’m no one. Absolutely no one. In that flash, what I’d supposed was a city proved to be a barren plain, and the sinister light that showed me myself revealed no sky above. Before the world existed, I was deprived of the power to be. If I was reincarnated, it was without myself, without my I.

Fernando Pessoa

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“If you think you’ve got to have something, and you don’t get it, you’re miserable. If you think you’ve got to avoid something, and you wind up in the middle of it anyway, you’re miserable. That’s what happens, sooner or later, when you want something or want to avoid something. If the only things you try to avoid are things that really are under your own control, then you’ll never have to take what you wanted to avoid. But if you try to avoid illness or poverty or death, you’re bound to be miserable, sooner or later. So stop trying to avoid things you have no power to keep out of your life. Avoid instead the undesirable attitudes that are within your power to shun.”

– Epictetus, The Enchiridion

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You are concerned with your own happiness and I am telling you that there is no such thing. Happiness is never your own, it is where the ‘I’ is not.

Nisargadatta Maharaj

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The path is clear, though no eyes can see
The course laid down long before

Genesis - Firth of Fifth

I recall watching a video of you telling this story but can’t find it. Do you know where to find it?

For a while one may repeatedly insist that all one wants is to be satisfied and happy, the truth is that one can often find oneself clinging to samsara with a vengeance. This is especially so when one starts to get a sense—however dim—that there might be a way to unloose oneself from the wheel. “Nostalgia for samsara,” some Buddhists call this affliction, the talons of which seem to grow but sharper as soon as one begins to understand the importance of escaping them.

Bluets by Maggie Nelson

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