Published on 31 December 2019



腊月寒冬夜 层层霜露至
花贩苏达家 莲花池中央
摘花至宫门 欲求见国王


It was a wintry night in the month of Agrahayan
There was a heavy fall of dew
All the lotus flowers were destroyed
Save one that somehow survived
In the pond of Sudas, the florist.
He plucked it and went to the palace gate
Seeking to see the king.


一旅人见花 心中大欢喜
“佛今莅城中 我欲供养佛
此稀有莲花 敢问费几何”


A passer-by saw the flower
He was filled with joy and said,
'I want to buy this off-season lotus
What is its price?
It will be my offering to Lord Buddha
Who is now staying in the city '.


“一小撮金子 此花归汝有”
旅人正欲购 帕桑王突现
手中满供品 口吟赞颂诗


'I expect one grain of gold', said Sudas,
Which the man agreed to pay.
At that very moment king Prasenjit
Suddenly came out of his palace
He was on his way to see Lord Buddha
Carrying many offerings
And singing the Lord's praise.


王见苏达花 亦欲购其花
花贩覆王曰 “此花已售彼
王曰愿加价 十撮金子价
旅人再加价 廿撮金子价
二者争此花 愈竞价愈高


He also offered to buy that flower
To present it to the Lord
And asked its price.
The florist told the king
'It has already been sold to this man
At a price of one grain of gold'.
'I shall pay ten grains', says the king.
The man says, 'I shall pay twenty'.
None was ready to give up,
They went on bidding
And the price went higher and higher.


花匠自忖思 二人争相供
若售受供者 所获必更丰
于是告二人 吾意已改变
急奔佛所在 放光树林间


The florist thought
His flower must fetch much much more
From the man for whom these two want it to buy.
So he told them I won't sell the flower
I have changed my mind.
He rushed to the grove
Which was filled with light
By Buddha's presence.


佛宁静微笑 端坐莲花姿
体现喜悦相 淋降祥和雨
苏达凝视佛 瞠目不转睛
结舌无言语 不由不自主
五体突投地 献花佛足下
佛柔声笑问 “吾儿何所求?”
苏达涕纵横 激动无复加
“仅求尊足下 一小撮尘土!”


Seated in the posture of a lotus,
Smiling and calm,
The Lord was an embodiment of joy
Peace was raining from his look
And mercy from his face.
Sudas kept on gazing at the Lord
With his eyes wide open
And he was speechless.
Suddenly he fell himself down on the floor
And placed the flower on Buddha's feet.
The Lord smiled and asked him in a sweet voice,
'What is it that you want, my son?'
Choked with emotion Sudas said, 'My Lord,
Nothing more than a grain of dust of your feet'.  


改写自罗宾德拉纳特 泰戈尔诗 Mulyaprapti
由 宗萨蒋扬钦哲 —另一个被”新年”这个现象受害的人— 所分享
Transcreation of the poem Mulyaprapti from the collection Katha by Rabindranath Tagore.
Shared by Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse, another victim of the phenomenon called “New Year”