Love of Buddha

That day, I close my eyes,

In midst of swirling clouds of smoke and scent

Of burning incense in the prayer hall,

Suddenly hearing the true words in your prayer;

That month, I turn all the prayer wheels,

Not to attain liberation,

But to touch your finger tip;

That year, I fully stretch out

 Kneeling on the mountain road,

Not to seek your audience,

But to feel your warmth;

That life, I circumambulate mountains, rivers and stupas,

Not to achieve better next incarnation,

But to meet you on my journey

—The Sixth Dalai Lama, Tsangyan Gyatso (1683~1706)