I, Jayavarman VII

 

I, Jayavarman VII, declared you, Beloved

Paradise, my Kampuchea, oh, that Nirvana in my Buddhist head

To end the empire of violence for peace and compassion

And in my name, I gave you Angkor Wat, built by faith,

Not by horror and enslavement.

Sculpted are the faces of eternal joy, sweet and calm like

The stone that shaped me into being.

Amidst this jungle vastness, sacred temples were built

For the gods, jewel encrusted by the dawn of a new spiritual awakening

All things unreachable were reached, and if you could only

Understand or come close to a realization of what humanity can become

And be, all mysteries would fill your heart with oneness between

The world inside and outside of yourself.

 

Copyright © by Chath pierSath, 1999

 

---

Khmer Voice Homepage    Authors and Their Works      Table of Contents   Poetry  New Submissions