Bat Nha: A Poem Written In Blood

The Buddha of our time wants to offer the world a global ethic, so that everyone can agree on a good path to follow. He wants to restore harmony, cultivate brotherhood & sisterhood, protect all species of the planet, prevent deforestation, and reduce the emission of greenhouse gases…As you are the continuation of the Buddha, you should help him offer the world a path that can prevent the destruction of the ecosystem, one that can reduce the amount of violence and despair. It would be very kind of you to help the Buddha continue to realize what he began 2,600 years ago…The Lotus Sutra mentions the name of a special bodhisattva: Dharanimdhara, or Earth Holder, someone who preserves and protects the earth.
Thich Nhat Hanh, The World We Have, Shambhala Sun, September 2008, p. 50.



Bat Nha: A Poem Written In Blood

Jim Moreno, Fall 2009.


Namaste’– Namaste’

They say Buddha’s wheel of compassion

Spins eternally in everyone’s eternal heart,

when we sit beneath the Bodhi tree

and escape the harness of desire;

the boot of cravings,

Namu Amida Butsu

Namu Amida Butsu


They say the boot of oppression stomps the innocent hard

in Lam Dong Province, Socialist Republic of Vietnam,

stamps to crush young Buddhist

monks and nuns practicing nonviolence–

Ahimsa

Ahimsa, nonviolence to all sentient beings,

but the boot of oppression eliminates electricity,

rejects & ruins running water,

crushes safety with extorted mob violence

smashes freedom with squeezed mob defilements,

sleepwalking goon-bully intimidation,

manipulated goon-bully oppressor nightmares

under the guidance of local police,

Buddha, Dharma, Sangha

Buddha, Dharma, Sangha


They say a Buddhist wish is for all sentient

beings to have peace and happiness,

this does not change with letters written in blood,

the blood of monks beaten & dragged from their homes,

the blood of nuns sexually insulted & harassed,

the blood of gentle followers of Thich Nat Hahn

frightened by the smashing of windows and doors,

intimidated by the arrest and disappearance of their spiritual elders,

disrespected by the vandalizing of their sacred temple and homes,

disarrayed by destruction of computers and recording equipment

under the guidance of political police,

ohm, jewel of the heart, hume,

ohm, jewel of the heart, hume,


I sing a sad song for my Vietnamese brothers & sisters of nonviolence,

I sing a blues song for my Asian brothers and sisters in the wheel of compassion,

I sing a song that warns of new injustice, new brutality, a new ugly boot,

old poison, new bottle designed to burn the lotus flower in a sea of fire,

to poison the teachings of the exiled monk, the gentle monk of light

transmission and all who follow him from this monsoon land

near the peaceful green/brown waves of the South China Sea,

I write this poem in monk and nun blood and poet tears,

My song warns of vile, vicious, violent eviction by the boot of power,

In gassho, in gassho, in gassho…


They say if I was a rich man and could travel to bring medicine

to my Bat Nha brothers and sisters weakened & sickened with fever,

They say if I could travel to Bao Loc

with food, & prayers, & letters of support

my compassion would be disrupted by local police,

They say I would be stopped and the food taken away,

They say I would be body-searched and turned away

by uniformed enemies of freedom,

who delight in psychological warfare,

who smile as boot crushes the neck of love

Nam myoho renge kyo,

Nam myoho renge kyo


I ask this boot of ugliness: Why do you hate?

I ask this boot of power: Why do you fear

my young brothers and sisters of Buddha’s light?

Only a boot of hate would fear my young practitioners of nonviolence;

Young Bodhisattvas who teach love, compassion and eschew politics…

We cross the river to the Pure Land,

We cross the river to the Pure Land


They say that when we are confronted with power that is unjust: Be skillful,

They say we who believe in peace are skillful,

They say we who believe the boot is obsolete in America,

in Vietnam, in Africa, in Asia, In Australia, in Central & South America,

In all the island people and all the canoe societies,

in all the hunters and gatherers, and the lovers of love, the lovers of peace, are skillful,

They say there are uncountable millions of us who believe in peace

And we are skillful.

The raft is not the shore,

The raft is not the shore


With monk and nun blood, with poet tears I warn the boot

that your illegal abuses harness us to care & protect,

Your hired, coerced violence calls us to nonviolent prayer as action,

Your immoral molests mobilize us to action as protest,

Your craven threats & coercion amplify our protest as Mother Earth Holders,

Your illicit arrest & disappearance of innocent elders

Phap Hoi and Phap Sy call us to action:

–we have arrived –we are home–

And we are so many, and you are so few–

All over this beautiful Mother Earth

Our only homeland needing security,

We are so many and you are too few–

Watch the skillful transform the few:

nightmare to dream; violence to peace


Buddha, Dharma, Sangha–

ohm, jewel of the heart, hume,

Nam myoho renge kyo,

We cross the river to the Pure Land,

Namu Amida Butsu–

The raft is not the shore,

Namu Amida Butsu–

we have arrived, we are home,

Buddha, Dharma, Sangha–

In gassho, in gassho,

Buddha, Dharma, Sangha–

we protect the lotus in this sea of fire,

We live the Lotus Sutra as one eternal heart…

Namaste’—Namaste’