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Forbidden Fruits
- Stories Told by a Young Chinese Monk (16)

31 February 2008
 

There are many different species of plants in the Hatch Hill, when gusts of autumn wind blow through the trees, ripe wild fruits would fall off the branches. By then No Ego and I would walk around the mountain to collect the fresh fruits, wash them in streams, then lift up our robe in front to hold as many as possible and bring back to share with everyone in the monastery.

Among the wild fruits, those with a pink colour are especially sweet and juicy. They are hard to find. When we did get one, we would earnestly present it to our master and he would accept the honour of giving the magic fruit away.

About three or four years ago, I found a pink fruit and passed it to my master, and my master passed it to No Dust, and No Dust passed it to his own mouth, and ate it. That night, the boy suffered bad diarrhea, and ran a high fever, which nearly killed him. Since there, this wonderful bush tucker became "forbidden fruit" in our monastery.

Years later, a group of tourists visited our temple after a bush walking. When I carried stools to them, I saw one guy washing wild fruits in tap water, and among them, there was a pink one. But before I could sound an urgent warning, he had already stuffed it in his mouth and began to chew.

When the group learned the story about No Dust vs Forbidden Fruit, big panic spread, and No Ego ran down to the town to find Dr Sha, and Do Sha ran up to the temple to examine the patient-suppose-to-be.

But there was nothing wrong with the forbidden fruit eater.

By the time the group left the monastery, watching their descending and receding backs, I wondered to myself whether we were wrong about the pink fruits in the first place.

(You can visit Monk No Anger's personal blog to read his original posts in Chinese at "http://787129669.qzone.qq.com")

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Next: Helping Hand from A Handless Man

 
 
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(Photos by 航空, xinhuanet)

The World Is a Mirror
烟尘幻影

by 玛雅
(http://bbs.ifeng.com/fhbbs)

常常留恋
那流光中的一丝幻影
常常痴迷
那繁华中的一丝烟尘

留恋的
是那静静的禅音
有幻有影
何时无幻
何时无影
坐在莲台上
寻找风的影子 光的虚幻
终于知道
动的是我
静的是莲台

痴迷的
是那烟尘的烙印
有烟有尘
何时无烟
何时无尘
对着镜子
寻找繁的烟 华的尘
终于知道
恋的是我
空的是镜

I used to get fascinated
By the illustrious
Of the dust,
Of the smoke,
And the point where they appear,
And the moment when they disappear.

So I watch them in a mirror,
And search,
The smoke of grandeur,
The dust of splendour,
Then I discover,
There are everything in me,
There is nothing in the mirror.

 

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