Wooden Diamond Rocket
as if a drunken body carried by handcart
placed in a comfortable room, the coffin
is now being lowered
sutra engraved on the lid
though there’s no Buddhist here, the heart
once afraid of tears
now looks on with blurry eyes
two hundred and sixty words, blurred into nothing
less than one
no irritation with ill-fitting garments
today, no struggle
though tied up for the first time, the cold body heavier
than a drunken one
wearing its wooden clothes, wooden capsule,
and now truly still
incantation pressing down
an irreversible weight, two hundred and sixty radiant words
no creation no extinction
no avidyā nor the end of avidyā
but here, a lump of agony sharp as a lashing
that once cried out in pain
now about to go, a life
not strong nor weak, has never been a person nor
nonperson, now about to board a single-seater airboat
a mere lump of dark we finally cannot know
the spell of diamond
sutra, seal the wooden diamond rocket with soil
a house for the one no longer
in pain, breaking out toward that place with no body, breath, and sattva
across the universe
to the constellation prajñā, from where
there is no return
Translation from the Korean
By Jeon Daye, Yi Ungyung, and Dan Disney
Translators’ note: The Diamond Sutra is one of the most frequently read Buddhist sutras. It is often read at funerals to wish the deceased person the wisdom of nonattachment, at which point they may leave the circle of reincarnation and enter Nirvana.
