Dance of the Dharmapala
Behold the great procession of mahakala and mahakali,
Black mahakala to the right, gray mahakali to the left,
Brandishing swords and daggers in two, four, six arms,
Each guided by a multitude of vengeful, piercing eyes.
The heavy thumping, pounding feet growing louder,
As the horde approached the sacred grove,
Beneath the many storied-high wheel of the law,
Where ushers ordered the sinister throng to disarm.
The great assemblage, naked of all their weapons,
Prostrated before Avalokiteśvara, the celestial Buddha,
To receive their first new instructions in many eons,
Historical things and practices no longer auspicious.
Neither dark colors, nor cleaving aortas of barbarians,
Are in for this new age of service and compassion,
A tolerant enlightened society in now our goal,
Swords and daggers beaten into art and music.
The spirit of Marius Alphonse Petipa be reborn,
To clothe, to choreograph the new great assemblage,
Mahakala, mahakali in a rainbow of brilliant colors,
Waiting for their dance of destiny to begin.
Magnificent, like gorillas dancing on point,
Arches, twirls, formations, arms flailing,
Interlocking two hands, four hands, six hands,
Tutus swirling, partners delicately flung upwards.
The musical tempo prophesizes the coming finale,
Great visual leaps, and impossible recoveries,
Dancers inseparable from complex maneuvers,
Culminating in series of splits…perfect timing.