I go for refuge to the divine, rare and supreme three,
I supplicate you, Lama, hold me in your compassion.

Friend, Geshe, you're a master of the eight worldly dharmas,
And if you cannot even tame your very own mindstream,
Then how could you ever hope to tame those wild sentient beings?

Fancy lamas' parasols adorned with peacock plumes,
Are impermanent, like lightning flashing in the sky.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

Above the town, the monastery serving nice hot tea
Is like the home of a con man who wants to talk you over a meal.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

The hustling and bustling of a great gathering,
Is like the war dance of fierce enemies ready to fight.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

Keeping horses, yaks, and sheep and taking care of them,
Is like a dusty wind that blows on dew-drops on the grass.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

Your illusory body, that heap the kleshas call home,
Is like a human corpse that someone painted up with gold.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

The leader of a yoginis' group that meets and meditates
Is like someone who started good but then ended up had.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

A ganachakra feast replete with delicious food to eat
Is like the king's mean tax collector pounding on your door.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

Divinations, Bonpo rites, and long-life rituals
Are like the threats extortionists use to force big pay-offs.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

The little songs sung to deceive many a maiden fair
Are like the howls a tomcat makes when he's wretched in heat.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

The owner of a farm and home in his own fatherland
Is like a child staring at a rainbow in the sky.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

These student sons and daughters, what a group of charlatans,
They're like a servant at the call of too many masters.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

Explaining Dharma when you don't understand its true meaning
Is like a liar doing his best to confuse and deceive.
Now isn't it so, my geshe friend? Think it over for yourself.

In short, if you cannot reap your own harvest for yourself,
Then helping other sentient beings is quite difficult.

Sung by Milarepa to Geshe Yaru Thang-pa after he adviced Milarepa to study, to wear yellow monk's robes and to conduct himself properly, in order to respect Buddha's teachings.Tibetan page 319.
Under the guidance of Dechen Rangdrol, translated by Ari Goldfield, May 20, 2003, Karma Tengyal Ling, Germany. Translation copyright 2012, Ari Goldfield.