6. Sri Chinmoy offers a Lecture on Poetry at Government Palace and Receives The Pegasus Award from Dr. G. Mend-Ooyo, President of The Mongolian Academy of Culture And Poetry 18 May 2007

[Dr. G. Mend-Ooyo, President of the Mongolian Academy of Culture and Poetry, pesented the Pegasus Award to Sri Chinmoy.]

"Poetry: A Heaven-Climbing Song" Sri Chinmoy's Lecture at Government Palace

Introduction

Mrs Tugusjargal Gandhi [as translated]: Today is a very joyful day for me, and I am sure it is for you as well. Dr. Mend-Ooyo, poet and President of the Academy of Culture and Poetry, has requested me to open this event. I am serving as Chairwoman of the Parliamentary Committee on Social Policies, Education, Culture and Science. I delightedly accepted the invitation, and I consider this event to be one of the very few precious moments in our lives.

There are not many people who have dedicated their lives for the betterment of humanity, for the noble cause of human dignity. I am very delighted to introduce to you one of those people, who has completely dedicated his life to the betterment of humanity.

Throughout history, humanity has struggled to find a way to create a better society. It was thought that there should be a strong state, a very rigid and stringent system of law, and very strong moral values. Also, it was thought that it was possible to overcome violence. After all this searching, mankind has come to the conclusion that the only permanent thing is Truth. This is what I think. The main focal point of this development is the person, the human being. In my opinion, one of the representatives who embody those high values is Sri Chinmoy.

It is a blessingful opportunity that he has arrived, that he has come to our country, and he has an opportunity to offer his talk to us. We are also expressions of this illumined human being. I would like to convey my gratitude to Sri Chinmoy for giving the Mongolian people the opportunity to get involved in this process of uniting the whole of humanity.

We consider this ceremony now open.

Dr. Gombojavyn Mend-Ooyo [as translated]: First of all, I would like to thank Mrs. Gandhi, the Chairwoman of the Parliamentary Committee on Social Policies, Education, Culture and Science. And I would like to take this opportunity to introduce you all to the leader of The Peace Meditation at the United Nations, poet, composer, athlete and luminary, Sri Chinmoy, who has come here today to offer his talk to all of you. I am also delighted to tell you that the original idea of inviting Sri Chinmoy to Mongolia belongs to the President of Mongolia, Nambaryn Enkhbayar.

In September 2006, we invited Mr. Sri Chinmoy for the 26th World Congress of Poets. Although Mr. Sri Chinmoy could not attend the World Congress because of other engagements, just two hundred days after that, in the same hall where the Congress took place, he is now offering his talk on poetry.

Mr. Sri Chinmoy Kumar Ghose was born in 1931 in Bengal. His talents were revealed at an early childhood age. Humanity can be proud of the heritage it has received from Sri Chinmoy, who has revealed and manifested his inner development through different types of works. His poetry, prose, essays and other literary works have been published in more than 1,500 books. His musical compositions far exceed 20,000. One of his other fields of activity is art, and particularly his bird drawings, which form an essential aspect of his art. So far he has drawn more than fifteen million birds, and the number of his other artistic works already exceeds 200,000.

I am delighted to inform you that two days ago, in recognition of his contribution to the promotion of world peace, to the development of relations between India and Mongolia, and for his contribution to the social, artistic, cultural and humanitarian fields, including assistance to Mongolia, Sri Chinmoy was awarded the Medal of Friendship by the President of Mongolia.

[Applause]

Yesterday, at the Art Gallery of the Union of Mongolian Artists, 145 out of thousands of artistic works by Sri Chinmoy were first exhibited, and they will be on display for the coming week. Also, other events are scheduled during Sri Chinmoy's visit, including the World Harmony Run, a Harmony Concert and a lecture on art.

One of the most important and interesting aspects of Sri Chinmoy's activities is giving talks on all continents. Now we are inviting our guest to give his talk entitled, "Poetry: A Heaven-Climbing Song."

[Sri Chinmoy meditated and performed for several minutes on the bass esraj.]

SRI CHINMOY:

Poetry: a Heaven-Climbing Song

Poetry whispers. Prose thunders.
Poetry is heart-beauty. Prose is mind-waves.
Poetry shortens the road to the Goal.
Prose lengthens the road to the Goal.

When I write inspiration-poems, I get seventy out of hundred from God.
When I write aspiration-poems, I get eighty out of hundred from God.
When I write realisation-poems, I get hundred out of hundred from God.

Inspiration-poems I get from a beautiful flower.
Aspiration-poems I get from a climbing flame.
Realisation-poems I get from a sleepless fountain.

Each time I write a poem, I see that I have become a beautiful flower with exquisite fragrance.
Each time I write an essay or an article, a prose work, I feel that I have become an extremely strong man.

Before I write a poem, I invoke God the thrilling Eye.
Before I write prose, I invoke God the commanding General.

After I have written a poem, a most beautiful poem, my heart gives all the credit, with no exception, to its Lord Beloved Supreme.
After I have written a most powerful prose work, my mind gives fifty per cent credit to God and fifty per cent my mind keeps for itself.

Encouragement is of paramount importance in a poet's career. I was born in 1931. I started writing poems in Bengali at the age of twelve. My elder brother Chitta taught me the Bengali metres lovingly and compassionately. There are five main metres. I learnt all of them in the course of fifteen minutes – no hyperbole!

I lived at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram, South India, from the age of twelve to thirty-two. There I also received tremendous encouragement from my Bengali teacher, from my mentors and even from my Master, Sri Aurobindo.

In 1964, I came to America. While in the West, I have written poem-songs like India's greatest poet, Rabindranath Tagore. Comparison by no manner of means, I have composed and set to music over 13,000 Bengali songs to date and over 7,000 in English.

I believe in both quality and quantity. I have convinced myself that I shall be responsible for quantity. I pray at God's Feet for God to take care of quality. God says to me:

"O great poet-composer, I am ready to be responsible for your quality if you agree that there is only one Composer, and that Composer is your Absolute Lord Beloved Supreme."

Lovingly, cheerfully, prayerfully, soulfully and unconditionally,
I bow and bow to my Lord Supreme.

When I write a poem, I compare it with my aspiration-heart.
When I write an article, I compare it with my determination-mind.

Each poem written by me, I take as a flying angel.
Each poem written by me, I take as a sailing boat in the moonlit night.
Each poem written by me, I take as a seer-vision-reality.

In the life of every seeker-writer, inspiration is of paramount importance. The souls of many great writers have blessed me with their inspiration-encouragement in and through their literary height plus spiritual depth.

I start by citing the German poet Goethe's immortal pen. He revealed to the world a new way to the world-awakening consciousness:

"Light! More light!"

Infinite is the thirst for the Infinite.

William Blake's classic poem "The Tyger" is humanity's invaluable treasure:

"Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

Here we see that ignorance-energy, which threatens to devour the entire world, finally discovers its transformation-salvation in the realisation of the Absolute One. This Absolute One embodies both ignorance-energy and knowledge-energy and, at the same time, far transcends them both.

Next, a few immortal lines by the beloved American poet Robert Frost:

These soul-stirring words come directly from the inmost recesses of the poet. The spiritual significance of a lovely, dark wood is intense aspiration. Then the poet unmistakably and soulfully tells us that the Goal of the Beyond is extremely far. And once he reaches the Goal, he will be able to sleep.

Now, from the ordinary human point of view, this statement is absolutely correct. But from the strict spiritual point of view, we notice something else. Today's aspiration transforms itself into tomorrow's realisation. Again, tomorrow's realisation is the pathfinder of a higher and deeper Goal. There is no end to our realisation. We are eternal, divine soldiers marching towards the Beyond that is constantly transcending its own boundary.

Walt Whitman is nature. Walt Whitman is vastness. Walt Whitman is all inspiration. Solid and subtle, he is the body and soul of poetry that peers into Truth:

My heart of dedication echoes and re-echoes with Walt Whitman's throbbing utterance. At the same time, I wish to add something more. I give lectures not because I have something special to offer to humanity, but because I wish to expand my mind's horizon, my heart's love and my body's service so that I can totally become one with God's Divinity in humanity. Then I shall sing the song of God's unity in His multiplicity.

Emily Dickinson's love of God and her love of nature made her inwardly most beautiful. A self-imposed seclusion-life she embraced. God's Compassion-Beauty was her reward.

If I can serve even one amongst you in your endeavours towards self-discovery, I shall not have lived in vain. Nay, my life on earth will have found its purposeful meaning.

John Keats was a wonder-poet of the world. Poor earth could not cherish his presence even for thirty fleeting years. He wrote something most beautiful:

If I may be so bold as to add: A thing of beauty is the mother and father of Divinity's Light and Reality's Height.

Rudyard Kipling is one of the most popular and brilliant writers in English, both in poetry and in prose. In 1907, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, becoming its first English language writer recipient and its youngest-ever recipient.

This famous statement of Kipling's was proved false when Swami Vivekananda, in 1893, with the flood of Sri Ramakrishna's inspiration, gloriously united the East and the West with his unique message on religion. India's peerless poet, Rabindranath Tagore, utterly denied this statement as well. His fruitful life was a mission of interpreting the East to the West; he wanted nothing more, nothing less, than a flood of peace between the two hemispheres. Indeed, in 1913, all India rejoiced when Tagore was blessed with the Nobel Prize in Literature. Tagore writes: As I have mentioned, the poetry muse has most lovingly showered her blessings upon me from an early age. Truth to tell, one of our four great Indian goddesses, Mahasaraswati, has most blessingfully inundated me with Her infinite Love and infinite Compassion. She plays on the vina and when She plays, She illumines the aspiring consciousness of humanity. She is the supreme Artist. When Her Compassion flows in and through an individual, if that particular individual is receiving Her Compassion-Light, then he can become a supreme artist.

I am extremely grateful to Dr. G. Mend-Ooyo, President of the 26th World Congress of Poets, plus President of the Mongolian Academy of Culture and Poetry, for working tirelessly with boundless enthusiasm and love for my visit here in Mongolia. My gratitude-heart I lovingly offer to him.

Dr. Mend-Ooyo is a profoundly spiritual seer-poet. His mantric poems immediately transport the reader into the heart of Eternity's Infinity. With your kind permission, I shall now read out an excerpt from his immortal poem "I Am Coming to You." Here is the exquisite English translation by President Nambaryn Enkhbayar:

I am Coming To You

Travelling through the years and time
accompanied by the sun and the moon,
Going on the bumpy and winding roads
left by old wise men,
Climbing up and down
through high mountains and rolling hills,
Fording through hundreds of rivers,
Although I do not know
when we may meet each other,
I am pondering the words that I will say to you.

I am coming to you
Having only parts of my dreams,
Tasting from my own poetry the very basis
for everything of mine,
Wishing to find in our heart the element
of my inspiration,
Climbing upwards in the chasms
of soaring mountains,
Following impassable paths,
Seeking for the eternal song, the essence of love,
I am coming to you.

- Dr. G. Mend-Ooyo

Please allow me to read a few of my own poems. My first English poem I wrote at the age of twenty-two while I was still in India. It is called:

The Golden Flute

A sea of Peace and Joy and Light
Beyond my reach I know.
In me the storm-tossed weeping night
Finds room to rage and flow.

I cry aloud, but all in vain;
I helpless, the earth unkind!
What soul of might can share my pain?
Death-dart alone I find.

A raft am I on the sea of Time,
My oars are washed away.
How can I hope to reach the clime
Of God's eternal Day?

But hark! I hear Thy golden Flute,
Its notes bring the Summit down.
Now safe am I, O Absolute!
Gone death, gone night's stark frown!
[Sri Chinmoy invited his students to sing the song he had composed to this poem.]

My third English poem, also written in India, is:

The Absolute

No mind, no form, I only exist;
Now ceased all will and thought;
The final end of Nature's dance,
I am It whom I have sought.

A realm of Bliss bare, ultimate;
Beyond both knower and known;
A rest immense I enjoy at last;
I face the One alone.

I have crossed the secret ways of life,
I have become the Goal.
The Truth immutable is revealed;
I am the way, the God-Soul.

My spirit aware of all the heights,
I am mute in the core of the Sun.
I barter nothing with time and deeds;
My cosmic play is done.

Immortality

(written in India)

I feel in all my limbs His boundless Grace;
Within my heart the Truth of life shines white.
The secret heights of God my soul now climbs;
No dole, no sombre pang, no death in my sight.

No mortal days and nights can shake my calm;
A Light above sustains my secret soul.
All doubts with grief are banished from my deeps,
My eyes of light perceive my cherished Goal.

Though in the world, I am above its woe;
I dwell in an ocean of supreme release.
My mind, a core of the One's unmeasured thoughts;
The star-vast welkin hugs my Spirit's peace.

My eternal days are found in speeding time;
I play upon His Flute of rhapsody.
Impossible deeds no more impossible seem;
In birth-chains now shines Immortality.

I have chosen only three poems out of 114,500 that I have written in America and the West:

My Name, My Age, My Home

At last I know my name.
My name is God's eternal Game.
At last I know my name.

At last I know my age.
My age is Infinity's page.
At last I know my age.

At last I know my home.
My home is where my flame-worlds roam.
At last I know my home.

Never to meet again

Never to meet again:
My yesterday's face,
My backward race,
Never to meet again.

Never to meet again:
Swift fear the thief,
Wild doubt the chief,
Never to meet again.

Never to meet again:
The clasp of death
And Satan's breath,
Never to meet again.

Never to meet again:
Chinmoy the failure,
Ignorance pure,
Never to meet again.

There was a time

There was a time when I stumbled and stumbled,
But now I only climb and climb beyond
And far beyond my Goal's endless Beyond,
And yet my Captain commands: "Go on, go on!"

While writing a poem, I feel that
I am entering into the Unknown from the known,
and then from the Unknown to the Unknowable.

My poems come out of my heart-home,
only to go back to their Source.

Each God-devotion-poem of mine
Is my life's fastest chariot
Towards God's Home.

Each God-surrender-poem of mine
Is a most blessingful shower
From the highest Heaven.

When a poet purposefully ends
His ambition-race,
He is ready to enjoy
His Heaven-climbing aspiration-flight.

There are some unfortunate poets, when they fail to write beautiful poems, who feel they are becoming like distant, fading stars. Alas! Alas! They may not know that their subsequent poems may be exceptionally good poems, and they will be able to fly in Infinity's Bliss-Sky.

If we are not successful with some of our poems, we must see it as a dream that has a very short breath.

The poet in me,
Through each poem,
Tries to proclaim
God's Victory-Message --
Here, there and all-where.

My meditation-poem
Opens my heart-door wide open
For my Lord to come in
And take His Throne.

My mind-poem
Rides amok,
Like a restless, mad elephant.

My heart-poem
Ascends skyward,
Faster than the fastest.

When I write an unconditionally
God-surrendered poem,
I find my life beyond
Both existence and non-existence.

Let us now try to enter into our heart-home, which is flooded with Eternity's Peace and Immortality's Bliss.

Sri Chinmoy sang "Ami Jabo" ["I shall enter into my heart's citadel-city''] without accompaniment. His talk and song were received with enthusiastic applause.