THE FOOL – MERE’S PRAYER. THE FOOL

THE FOOL – MERE’S PRAYER

As the Buddha said:

 

Long is the night to who is awake, long ten miles to the tired;

long of birth and death the cycle to the fool

of the true path unaware.

 

If someone better or equal, a traveler doesn’t meet let him

always go alone, avoiding a fool’s companionship.

 

Mine are these sons, mine own this wealth me;” with such thoughts

is a fool tormented: he doesn’t even belong to himself;
how much less sons and wealth?

 

Like their own worst enemies the fools lacking the Understanding are, bitter fruits their wrongdoings bear. As long as his wrong action doesn’t yet bear fruit, like honey the fool thinks it is…but when it bears fruit suffers grief.

 

Let the fool for reputation wish, for amongst beggars

the first place, for authority in the monastery

and veneration from all:

 

May both householders and beggars think that “by me this was done, always ask me what should be done and what not”.

 

Such is the fool’s wish, his desire and pride increasing. One road

to wealth leads, another to Nirvana…

 

Anatole France adds:

 

The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man

knows himself a fool.

Do you think that you are wise, or a fool?

 

Mère’s Prayer:

 

Outside the Divine all is falsehood and illusion,

all is mournful obscurity

 

O LORD, Master of our life, let us soar very high above all care for our material preservation.

 

Nothing is more humiliating and depressing than these thoughts so constantly turned towards the preservation of the body,

 

these preoccupations with health, the means of subsistence, the framework of life. . . .

 

How very insignificant is all this, a thin smoke that a simple breath

can disperse or a single thought turned towards Thee

dispels like a vain mirage!

 

WHY all this noise, all this movement, this vain and futile agitation;

why this whirlwind carrying men away like

a swarm of flies caught in a storm?

 

How sad is the sight of all that wasted energy, all those useless efforts! When will they stop dancing like puppets on a string, pulled they know not by whom or what?

 

When will they find time to sit quietly and go within, to recollect themselves

and open that inner door which screens from them

Thy priceless treasures, Thy infinite boons? . . .

 

How sorrowful and miserable seems to me their life of ignorance and obscurity, their life of mad agitation and unprofitable dispersion! –

 

when one single spark of Thy sublime light, one single drop

of Thy divine love, can transform this suffering

into an ocean of delight!

 

Give them all, O Lord, Thy peace and light, open their blinded eyes and their darkened understanding; calm their futile worries and their vain anxieties.

 

Turn their gaze away from themselves and give them the joy of being

consecrated to Thy work without calculation

or mental reservation.

 

Let Thy beauty flower in all things, awaken Thy love in all hearts, so that Thy eternally progressive order may be realized upon earth and Thy harmony be spread until the day all becomes Thyself in perfect purity and peace.

Oh! let all tears be wiped away, all suffering relieved, all anguish dispelled,

and let calm serenity dwell in every heart and powerful certitude

strengthen every mind.

 

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