This work is a collection of one Sanskrit mantra and five Buddhist poems of Vietnam, all of which were written in Chinese because Vietnamese people had used Chinese as the written language of learning until our Latin-based modern national script was popularized in the twentieth century. I kept the original text of the Sanskrit mantra but translated the poems from Sino-Vietnamese into English.
The Medieval monks who wrote these poems are respected not only for contributing to Vietnamese Buddhism but also for defending and developing our country. Among them, Trần Nhân Tông (1258–1308) was the king who led our nation to victory during the last two Mongol invasions in the thirteenth century. However, he was not attached to the glory of a warrior-king. Spiritually enlightened, he followed the steps of the Gautama Buddha, left his throne as soon as his responsibilities were fulfilled, and became the monk who established Trúc Lâm, the indigenous Vietnamese Zen school.
I kept the melodic tune of the Sanskrit mantra to pay tribute to the Indian origin of Buddhism while gradually transforming it into a multi-voiced texture. Likewise, all other movements are inspired by the long traditions of polyphonic and homophonic singing in Western music. This work expresses how Vietnamese culture and Western music have shaped me as an artist and a person.
Please contact the composer or North Park University School of Music, Art, and Theatre to have access to the authentic set of four Vietnamese Buddhist Praying Bowls and a Wooden Fish.
Premiered at NPU Spring Choral Concert, “Where is My Voice?”, April 01, 2022.
North Park University Choir, Julia Davids (conductor), Jonathan Robison (percussion I: wooden fish and congas), and Jonathan Gweshe (percussion II: Vietnamese pitched bowl bells and tambourine)
I. Om Muni Muni Maha Muni Shakyamuna ye Soha.
The melodic materials of this movement are based on a well-known Sanskrit mantra: Om Muni Muni Maha Muni Shakyamuna ye Soha. Mantras are often short series of syllables, words, or phrases that help practitioners to channel energy and attain mental serenity while meditation. Each syllable or word in a mantra carries a positive and sacred meaning. During my time in Vietnam and Thailand, I heard mantras like “Shanti! Shanti! Shanti!” (Peace! Peace! Peace!) or “Om Mani Padmehum” (Praise to the jewel in the lotus flower), and they left an indelible imprint on my mind.
The chosen mantra, “Om Muni Muni Maha Muni Shakyamuna ye Soha,” begins with the syllable “Om,” the sacred sound from which the whole universe is created, according to Indic religions. As a musician, I find profound significance in the myth that the universe emerged from a sound, a cosmic vibration!
Below are the meanings of the remaining words:
- Muni: Wise and Mercy One
- Maha: Great, supreme, or wonderful
- Shakyamuni: Wise One of the Shakyans.
- Soha: Hail!
So, this mantra could be loosely translated as “Om! Wise One, Wise One, Supreme One, Wise One of the Shakyans, Hail!” I chose this mantra to pay homage to Siddhartha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism. He was born into a royal, sheltered life, but soon realized that everyone born in this world has to go through the suffering of birth, aging, sickness, and death. Since then, the young prince renounced all worldly comforts and embark on a quest to liberate all sentient beings from suffering. After years of mistakes and hardships, Siddhartha became a Buddha (the enlightened one) and taught his wisdom to all who sought it. His revolutionary idea that “All living beings have Buddha nature” challenged the deeply stratified structure of Indian society. Furthermore, Siddhartha encouraged his disciples to engage in continuous questioning and self-exploration on their paths to enlightenment. That is also the fundamental theme of all Vietnamese Buddhist poems that I chose for this composition.
Usually, mantras are recited by one person or a group in unison. As I set this mantra into a choral piece, I added more homophonic parts and new melodic materials to embellish the mantra’s melody. In this work, the wooden fish and praying bells, which are usually tools to assist meditation and rituals, assume the role of musical instruments. Thus, I particularly chose the musically tuned bells from Vietnam.
II. Teaching My Disciples, based on a poem by Vạn Hạnh (938–1018)
While the first movement features a Sanskrit mantra that pays tribute to the Indian origin of Buddhism, the subsequent five movements are based on five poems by esteemed monks from the tenth to fourteenth centuries, the golden age of Vietnamese Buddhism. In a country that frequently underwent foreign invasions and civil wars, these monks did not seek englightenmight through seclusion, but actively participated in civic affairs to defend the country and protect the people.
The first monk that appears in my composition, Vạn Hạnh, was the teacher and consultant of emperor Lý Thái Tổ, who helped this king smoothly seize the thrown from the disorderly Early Lê Dynasty (980–1009) without bloodshed. His political influence did not serve any selfish desire, as he knew that the key to enlightenment is to go through the changing nature of life without attachment, fear, nor pride. Hence, before he died, he composed the poem “Teaching My Disciples.”
Though Vietnamese people have developed our native language for millennia, classical Chinese served as the formal written language until the 20th century. Consequently, the poems presented in this composition were originally written in Chinese. For a comprehensive understanding, I will provide the original Chinese texts, the translations into modern Vietnamese by different scholars, and my own English renditions, which are the texts of this musical composition.
Thân như bóng chớp, có rồi không,
Cây cối xuân tươi, thu não nùng.
Mặc cuộc thịnh suy đừng sợ hãi,
Kìa kìa ngọn cỏ giọt sương đông.
(translated by Ngô Tất Tố)
身如電影有還無，
萬木春榮秋又枯。
任運盛衰無怖畏，
盛衰如露草頭鋪。
Thị Đệ Tử
Thân như bóng chớp, có rồi không,
Cây cối xuân tươi, thu não nùng.
Mặc cuộc thịnh suy đừng sợ hãi,
Kìa kìa ngọn cỏ giọt sương đông.
(trans. Ngô Tất Tố)
The body exists and disappears like a fleeting flash
All plants flourish in the spring but wither in the fall
Be not afraid of the rise and fall of life,
They are like dew on the tip of a leaf.
III. Origin of Fire, based on a poem by Khuông Việt (933–1011)
The third movement is based on the poem “Origin of Fire” by Khuông Việt. He was the Great Preceptor of Emperor Lê Đại Hành, the first ruler of the Early Lê dynasty. When he served the court of Lê Đại Hành, this king achieved a significant victory over the Chinese Song invaders in 981. However, the Song Empire remained a powerful and expansionist force, so Lê Đại Hành needed scholars well-versed in Chinese culture, Confucianism and Buddhism to conduct diplomatic negotiations. These ambassador had to balance between paying respect to the giant neighbor while asserting the independence of Vietnam (then Đại Việt). Khuông Việt shouldered that weighty responsibility with patience and wisdom, which are shown in his poem “Origin of Fire:”
原火
木中原有火
有火火還生
若謂木無火
鑽遂何由萌
Nguyên Hoả
Cây xanh sẵn lửa bao đời
Truyền qua bao kiếp đổi dời tái sinh
Nếu không sẵn nhiệt tử sanh
Đem cây cọ xát dễ thành lửa sao?
(trans. Nguyễn Bá Chung)
In the wood, there lies fire
And the fire will come alive
If wood contains no fire
Where does the spark come from?
At first glance, the question “How does fire come from wood?” might appear simplistic, almost childlike. Yet, in Zen Buddhist poems, such seemingly elementary inquiries are gateways to profound explorations of the human psyche. In this case, “fire” symbolizes destructive emotions, feelings, and emotions from our inner self. The “spark” is only symptoms of the problems hidden deep inside, and under the right external conditions–—akin to the friction that ignites wood—the inner negativity will manifest inself into devastation.
IV. A Dawn of Spring, based on a poem by Khuông Việt (933–1011)
Trần Nhân Tông, respectfully known as as “The Buddhist King” (Phật Hoàng) among the Vietnamese people, was born when the Mongol Empire had already subjugated most land from Eastern Europe to China. The Mongol Empire’s next target was Đại Việt, a small country compared to the vast territories they had conquered. The Mongols first invaded Đại Việt in 1258, during the reign of Trần Nhân Tông’s father, Trần Thánh Tông, but they were defeated. However, the Mongols still set their sights on Đại Việt. Therefore, since childhood, Trần Nhân Tông was rigorously trained to become a warrior king, who later led the country to victory over two Mongol invasions in 1284 and 1287, completely obliterating the Mongol’s ambition to conquer Đại Việt.
Despite his prowess as a king and military commander, Trần Nhân Tông, like many Vietnamese monarchs before him, was also a devout Buddhist. After making sure that his son was mature enough to revitalize the war-torn country, he abdicated the throne and became a monk. In this new chapter of his life, he became the founder of the Vietnamese Buddhist sect known as the Bamboo Grove (Trúc Lâm).
In many ways, Trần Nhân Tông’s life resembled that of Shakyamuni: born into royalty, he went through the ebb and flow of life, witnessed the suffering of his people, and willingly gave up the glory of a secular king in pursuite of ultimate liberation. Among his many Buddhist poems, I particularly love “A Dawn of Spring” because it shows how his wholesome soul embraced the simple beauty of nature and lived each moment to the fullest.
春曉
睡起啟窗扉，
不知春已歸。
一雙白蝴蝶，
Xuân Hiểu
Ngủ dậy ngỏ song mây
Xuân về vẫn chửa hay
Song song đôi bướm trắng
Phất phới sấn hoa bay.
(trans. Ngô Tất Tố)
I rose up and looked through the window,
Not knowing that Spring has returned.
A couple of white butterflies
Flew with their flapping wings toward the flowers.
V. The Words from my Heart, based on a poem by Không Lộ (1016–1094)
The fifth movement of this composition features the poem “The Words from my Heart” by the monk Không Lộ, who lived during the reign of King Lý Nhân Tông (r. 1066–1128). In this poem, the reference to the “land of snakes and dragons” might indicate a picturesque landscape where mountains and waters form mesmerizing curving lines. Moreover, according to East Asian geomancy, such a landscape is believed to be imbued with positive energy that is conducive to self-cultivation. Typically, these are wild natural spaces where Zen practitioners like Không Lộ retreat from the clamor of human society to connect with the broader universe through solitude. The “sky” in this context could mean literal sky, but also the vast firmament of the mind, where the boundaries between one’s ego and the world dissolve.
言懷
擇得龍蛇地可居，
野情終日樂無餘。
有時直上孤峰頂，
Ngôn Hoài
Kiểu đất long xà chọn được nơi
Tình quê nào chán suốt ngày vui
Có khi đỉnh núi trèo lên thẳng
Một tiếng kêu vang lạnh cả trời.
(trans. Phan Vô)
I chose to stay in a land of snakes and dragons
The joy of the countryside is endless
Sometimes, I climbed the peak of a lonely mount
My long shout freezes the whole sky.
VI. Do Not Tread in the Footsteps of the Buddha, based on a poem by Quảng Nghiêm (1121–1191)
Quảng Nghiêm is renowned for posing critical and thought-provoking questions about Buddhist scriptures and concepts. While his approach may appear rebellious, it resonates with the longstanding Buddhist tradition that traces its origins back to the time of Shakyamuni, who encouraged his followers to engage in the Socratic-like practice of questioning and answering themselves. To illuminate this tradition, I quote this teaching from Shakyamuni’s teaching: “It is proper for you, Kalamas, to doubt, to be uncertain; uncertainty has arisen in you about what is doubtful. Come, Kalamas. Do not go upon what has been acquired by repeated hearing; nor upon tradition; nor upon rumor; nor upon what is in a scripture; nor upon surmise; nor upon an axiom; nor upon specious reasoning; nor upon a bias towards a notion that has been pondered over; nor upon another’s seeming ability; nor upon the consideration, ‘The monk is our teacher.’ Kalamas, when you yourselves know: ‘These things are bad; these things are blamable; these things are censured by the wise; undertaken and observed, these things lead to harm and ill, abandon them. (Kalama Sutra).
Quảng Nghiêm’s poem succinctly encapsulates this notion of critical inquiry.
休向如來
離寂方言寂滅去，
生無生后說無生。
男兒自有衝天志，
休向如來行處行。
Hưu Hướng Như Lai
Lìa tịch mới bàn câu tịch diệt,
Được vô sanh, sau nói vô sanh.
Làm trai có chí xông trời thẳm,
Chớ giẫm Như Lai vết đã qua.
Only talk about Nirvana when we are free from from the desire of Nirvana,
Only talk about Death and Life when we are free from Death and Life.
Men have the will to fly our own sky,
Do not tread in the footsteps of the Buddha.