Buddha: That which touches me most at Angkor comes to sight within a low cloister. A figure of the dying Buddha lies on the grass-grown paved floor. A stray chink of light caresses his brow. The silent Sage rests in his final meditation. I fold my coat and squat before him, amid troops of buzzing insects, for I cannot resist pondering over the paradox of this deserted fane. But a glance at the face reassures me and imparts its repose. There lingers over it yet an expression of absolute contentment; the eyes are far-seeing, clairvoyant. The black ants which run busily around him, preoccupied with their material welfare, carrying large seeds to their hole, laying by a store for the lean months, are not less thoughtful for themselves and their future than Buddha was for others. His cold denial of all desires is not attractive to the active West, but his sweet compassion for all living creatures is. Forty years of ceaseless travel and patient teaching are at an end. The seed has been thoroughly sown. It will grow steadily for hundreds of years and feed millions of human beings. He knows! The sparkling gems which lay in yonder treasury have long since been ravished, but the words of Gautama still remain. The Doctrine which he leaves behind will meet somewhere with reverence; its trained propounders will meet sometimes with love. Thus the race of fellow mortals, for whom he feels as a mother for her child, shall be truly served. To know the perversity of human nature in its present state; to know the glory of human nature in its future state; to receive both facts simultaneously into his consciousness and to hold the balance between them; this is what belongs to the Buddha and to all adepts!
-- Notebooks Category 15: The Orient > Chapter 5 : Ceylon, Angkor Wat, Burma, Java > # 11
