A Dharma‑poem retelling of the Seven Ages as the sufferings of samsara and the call to renunciation, emptiness, and bodhicitta.
The Seven Wanderings of Samsara
A Tibetan‑style Dharma poem inspired by Shakespeare’s monologue
All worlds are but a shifting stage
where beings wander age to age,
grasping at forms that rise and fall—
not knowing mind is source of all.
Through seven scenes the actors roam,
yet never find a lasting home.
Thus suffering turns the heart to see
the path of wisdom’s clarity.
1. The Infant — Birth’s First Cry
First comes the babe in helpless plight,
crying out into samsaric night.
Clinging to warmth, confused by pain,
the seeds of karma sprout again.
No freedom yet to choose or flee—
thus starts the wheel of misery.
2. The Child — The Weight of Habit
Next walks the child with timid pace,
a morning glow upon its face.
Yet pushed by rules it cannot choose,
it learns the fears it will not lose.
Habits form like clouds that bind,
veiling the sky‑like, open mind.
3. The Lover — The Fire of Desire
Then comes the lover, flushed and warm,
a heart swept up in craving’s storm.
Projecting beauty, grasping tight,
mistaking longing for delight.
Desire burns fierce, yet leaves behind
the ash of an unsettled mind.
4. The Warrior — The Pride of Ego
Next strides the warrior, bold and proud,
shouting oaths to please the crowd.
Quick to anger, quick to fight,
chasing honor’s brittle light.
For fame is but a bubble’s gleam—
a fragile, vanishing samsaric dream.
5. The Judge — The Illusion of Wisdom
Then sits the judge with measured tone,
believing wisdom is his own.
He weighs the world with practiced air,
yet clings to views he thinks are fair.
But all his truths, examined well,
are shifting shadows none can quell.
6. The Elder — The Body’s Decline
Next comes the elder, frail and thin,
the body slack, the breath worn in.
Clothes once proud now hang like rags,
memory flickers, vision sags.
The voice that thundered in its prime
returns to childhood, remembering those times.
7. The Final Scene — The Fall of the Aggregates
At last the final curtain falls,
the senses fade, the darkness calls.
Teeth and sight and taste depart,
the aggregates break apart.
Thus ends the role, but not the pain—
for grasping brings rebirth again.
The Turning — Renunciation, Emptiness, and Bodhicitta
Through these seven scenes we come to see
the truth of life’s futility: all forms are fleeting,
all roles untrue,
like mist that melts in morning dew.
Seeing this, the heart grows wise
and turns from worldly, empty ties.
Renunciation dawns within,
not shunning life, but shedding [negativity] sin—
the clinging grasping that binds the mind
to suffering of each and every kind.
Then looking deep, we find no “I”:
the self is empty as the sky.
Awareness shines—vast, clear, and bright,
the unborn nature of the night.
From this great freedom springs a flame,
the bodhicitta’s holy aim:
to free oneself and all who roam
through samsara’s ceaseless, sorrowed home.
Twofold fulfilment thus is won—
awakening’s work for self and everyone.