THUS SPAKE THE BUDDHA

Only, while turns this wheel invisible,
No pause, no peace, no staying-place can be;
Who mounts may fall, who falls will mount; the spokes
Go round unceasingly!

If ye lay bound upon the wheel of change,
And no way were of breaking from chain,
The Heart of boundless Being is a curse,
The Soul of Things fell Pain.

Ye are not bound! The Soul of Things is sweet,
The Heart of Being is celestial rest;
Stronger than woe is will; that which was Good
Doth pass to Better - Best.

I, Buddha who wept with all my brothers' tears,
Whose heart was broken by a whole world's woe,
Laugh and am glad, for there is Liberty!
Ho! Ye who suffer! Know

Ye suffer from yourselves. None else compels,
None other holds you that ye live and die,
And whirl upon the wheel, and hug and kiss
Its spokes of agony,

Before beginning, and without an end,
As space eternal and as surety sure,
Is fixed a Power divine which moves to good,
Only its laws endure.

[From the great classic: The Light of Asia - by Sir Edwin Arnold]