Milarepa describes the happy life of the wandering yogi.
Like a criminal gaining his freedom from a dungeon hole
The yogi who gives up his native country knows bliss.
Like a spirited horse that’s freed of hobbling chains
The yogi who slips from perceived and perceiver knows bliss.
Like a deer that has been wounded will lie low
The yogi who lives on his own all alone knows bliss.
Like the king of birds that wings his way on high
The yogi who gains command over view knows bliss.
Like the wild wind that’s roaming through the sky
The yogi not blocked by any obstruction knows bliss.
Like a shepherd tending his flock of white-fleeced sheep
The yogi tending his luminous/empty experience knows bliss.
Like the massive bulk of the central king of mountains
The yogi unfazed by transition and change knows bliss.
Like the constant flow of a great and mighty river
The unbroken-flow-of-experience-yogi knows bliss.
Like a human corpse as it lies in a cemetery
The yogi who shuts all activity down knows bliss.
Like a stone that’s thrown into the deep blue sea
The yogi who never turns back again knows bliss.
Like the sun that rises and lights up the whole sky
The yogi who lights up everything knows bliss.
Like a palm tree when you strip it of its leaves
The yogi not needing to be reborn knows bliss.
This melody on these twelve kinds of yogic happiness
Is a dharma gift to all of you, may it answer your question well.
Translated by Jim Scott, under the direction of Khenpo Tsultrim Gyamtso Rinpoche.
