I forgot the difference between myself and others.
Having meditated on my teacher,
I forgot those who are influential and powerful.
Having meditated on the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas,
I forgot the coarse world of the senses.
Having meditated on the instruction of the oral tradition,
I forgot the books of dialectics.
Having meditated on the joys of solitude,
I forgot the need to please my relatives and friends.
Having assimilated the teaching in the stream of my consciousness,
I forgot to engage in doctrinal polemics.
Having lived in simplicity of body and mind,
I forgot the disdain and arrogance of the great.
Having made a monastery within this body,
I forgot the monastery of bricks and mortar.
Having embraced the spirit rather than the letter,
I forgot how to play with words.