《拉薩情書》

第七章、牆面上的倉央情詩作者
01
次日近午，張揚帶他們來到大昭寺附近，一夥人進到一家藏人開設的餐飲店用餐。
點好餐飲後，安妮去上洗手間，回程經過一片牆面，牆面上張貼著許多遊客留言，其中一則留言是以藏文寫的倉央．嘉措的情詩作品，署名引起安妮注意：
給Any：
你見，或者不見我／我就在那裡不悲不喜　
你念，或者不念我／情就在那裡不來不去　　
你愛，或者不愛我／愛就在那裡不增不減　　
你跟，或者不跟我／我的手就在你手裡
安妮：(OS)這不就是昨晚聽到的那首情歌？
安妮留意到底下一行題字「德格‧格桑抄錄」，想起昨日在畫攤前相遇的那個帥氣的藏族青年，和他那神似松贊干布的五官，心裡不免有一份想要再相見的期待。
回到座位，安妮喝著咖啡，表情有些恍神，沒聽見父親札希問她話，直到美多拉她衣袖，她才回神。
札希問：「昨晚，妳聽到老祖宗寫的情歌嗎？安妮。」
安妮點頭。
札希欣慰說：「倉央．嘉措的情詩，經過三個世紀，至今仍深植人心。」

02
札希一行人進到大昭寺參觀。
「我去一下洗手間。」安妮走到側門出口處外，撥打格桑手機。
「請問是德格‧格桑嗎？」
「我是，妳是安妮？」
「是，我在大昭寺正殿側門出口。」
「好的，我立馬去接妳。」
才幾分鐘光景，格桑就出現，向安妮揮手。格桑快步走到安妮面前。
「先去我研究室，給妳看一些我蒐集的壁畫佛像。」
安妮跟著格桑，走石板小路拐了兩個彎，來到一排廂房前，兩人進到廂房。格桑領著安妮來到長桌前，指著桌面上那幾疊壁畫佛像圖畫：「這些是我蒐集的壁畫臨摹畫，都分類編碼，分批進行研究。」
安妮的注意力被牆上兩幅畫作給吸引住，正是格桑送給她的松贊干布和文成公主畫像。
安妮手指著說：「牆上這兩幅畫作，就是你上回給我的，我想看這兩幅畫作的原畫真跡。」
格桑說：「這兩幅畫作都是我臨摹自壁畫的，而壁畫就鑲在隔鄰的小昭寺內殿牆壁上。」
「那麼，請你帶我去看那兩幅壁畫，好嗎？」
「好的，妳隨我前往。」
兩人離開研究室，來到小昭寺大殿，格桑指著左側牆面上的兩幅壁畫：「就在那片牆上。」安妮順著格桑指引，來到左側牆下，專注地望著那兩幅壁畫。
「妳看，文成公主的五官儀態，跟妳一個模樣。」
安妮轉頭，對著格桑嫣然一笑。
安妮心想：「這會是巧合嗎？還是別有深意的指引？」
一旁正在誦經的一位老喇嘛貢嘎‧索南仁波切，目不轉睛盯著安妮，隨即停下來。趨前向安妮合十行禮再三。
安妮正感詫異，老喇嘛隨即對著兩人以藏語說了一長串話：「你是松贊干布轉世，你身旁的女子是文成公主轉世，你們回來這裡，一定是佛陀交付你們任務，你必須善待這女子，她會是你這世的妻子，從千里之外前來尋你。」
聽完老喇嘛如此預言，安妮面露驚訝，對這喇嘛的預言覺得不可思議。
格桑心想：「我該如何讓安妮知道，這段前世今生的姻緣…。」
這時，老喇嘛索南把格桑拉到一旁說：「格桑大德，我預感你將來會遇到一個生死交關的劫難，到那時你務必要回來這裡找到我，也許我能幫你度過此劫難，讓你繼續這一世該完成的使命。」
格桑說：「感謝索南仁波切提示，我會牢記在心。」

03
大殿裡，札希三人等了安妮好一會兒，札希不免焦慮。
「這小妮子跑哪兒去？說去洗手間，一下子就不見人影。」
「我去洗手間找看。」美多快步走向洗手間，隨即走出來：「安妮不在裡面。」
張揚問：「會不會走失了？咱們分頭去找。」
札希說：「好吧！咱們分頭去找，找著人，就撥手機通知。一刻鐘後，回到這裡。
札希三人分頭去找安妮。
過了一會兒，格桑和安妮一起出現在大昭寺大殿內，札希總算鬆了一口氣。
「在寺裡迷路，遇到格桑。」
「札希教授，幸會。」
札希訝異問：「你們倆認識？」
格桑說：「就昨天，在八角井老街上。」
一旁的張揚見到格桑，直覺其中事有蹊蹺，一臉狐疑地直盯著格桑。
札希微笑說：「那我就不用介紹囉！這一年來，格桑提供了許多壁畫資料給我，他很用心地投入蒐集和整理研究西藏佛教壁畫的工作。」

04
旅館臥房裡，安妮靠在窗口，望著黃昏時分的街景，腦海中浮現那首倉央．嘉措的情歌：「你見，或者不見我／我就在那裡不悲不喜…你跟，或者不跟我／我的手就在你手裡」。隨後，安妮取出紙筆，靠坐在窗口陽台上，一字一句寫下一首詩。
《顛倒夢想》
寺院的鐘聲，自我身體內爆開╱如熟透的漿果，逐一迸裂╱我聽見血管裡紅血球╱相偎著傳遞密碼╱關於活著，那本封印著靈魂奧義╱燙金的線裝書，我剛從加州╱從風和日麗的陽光海岸回來╱我的脂肪飽含氧氣，等著被╱禪機點燃
，於是我吐納天地╱在火球裡完全淨化╱頓悟，成一縷煙一朵雲╱一片倒影清澈的湖鏡

佛曰：不可說╱除非心意相通，你哀愁的前世╱延續著我漂泊如風╱握手時感到虛無的今生╱而這只是一場夢，一回無關來世╱有情與無情的線上遊戲╱
閉門謝客，我沒打算關起窗來寫回憶錄╱那些雪月與風花，一旦敲開╱夢的硬果核，其實╱不過是幾卷浪漫的詩詞╱幾篇離奇的故事╱而陰陽兩隔，人與鬼終究殊途

此情可待，只是當時已惘然╱我仍困頓在情繭裡╱還沒參透人世的滄桑╱直到有人，自來世喚我╱說羽化總在體會無常與變態之後╱放下一切受想行識╱遠離顛倒夢想╱那時，自會有佛陀渡我╱般若波羅密多……
床邊的美多，正在翻閱安妮帶來的那本《西藏密宗壁畫浮屠圖冊》。

05
安妮離開旅館，來到附近的那家餐飲店，走到那面牆，把剛寫的那首詩貼上去。
安妮到櫃台點了杯咖啡，在角落裡喝著咖啡，回想小時候和祖母卓瑪的點滴…。
加州柏克萊大學城附近，倉央家庭院角落，在剛整好的耕地上，祖母卓瑪正在播撒種青稞種子，一旁穿著連身小洋裝的小安妮手持小鏟子，臉上手上沾著些泥巴。
小安妮好奇問：「奶奶，這些種子會長出花兒來嗎？」
卓瑪說：「這些種子會長出一株株青稞來，就跟小麥一樣開出一串串細小花穗，結出穗狀顆粒，把果穗曬乾拍打，顆粒研磨成粉，這是家鄉人們主要的糧食。」

這時，張揚走進咖啡廳，發現正在沉思默想的安妮，點了杯咖啡後，張揚走過來，坐在安妮對面。
「妳有心事？」
安妮微笑說：「想起小時候的一些往事。」
張揚關切地問：「回來西藏，能適應這裡的高原生活嗎？安妮。」
安妮點頭。
「妳幾時會回去加州？」
「這趟回來，是為找尋遺落的傳家之寶：《倉央．嘉措情詩手抄本》真跡，在沒找到之前，我會待在這裡一陣子。」
張揚熱心地說：「妳說的那個《倉央．嘉措情詩手抄本》，聽起來應該是重要的古籍文物，剛好我有老朋友在這裡的文物局工作，我會去找老朋友，讓他們幫忙打聽。」
安妮說：「謝謝你，如此熱心幫我。」
張揚謹慎地探問：「那個兩度和妳交談的藏族青年，妳跟他好像很談得來…。」
安妮淡然說：「剛認識的朋友，彼此有些共同話題，就這樣囉。」
這回答讓張揚心裡還是不踏實，但他不便再追究下去。

Chapter 7: The Love Poems of Tsangyang Gyatso on the Wall
01
The next day, near noon, Zhang Yang brought them to the area near Jokhang Temple. The group entered a Tibetan-run restaurant to have a meal.
After ordering, Annie went to the restroom. On her way back, she passed by a wall covered with messages left by tourists. Among them, one stood out—it was a love poem by Tsangyang Gyatso written in Tibetan. The signature caught Annie’s attention:
To Any:
Whether you see me or not / I am there, neither sad nor joyful
Whether you think of me or not / Love is there, neither coming nor going
Whether you love me or not / Love is there, neither increasing nor decreasing
Whether you follow me or not / My hand is in yours
Annie thought to herself, “Isn’t this the love song I heard last night?”
She noticed the next line of the inscription: “Copied by Dege Gesang.” It reminded her of the handsome Tibetan youth she had met yesterday at the art stall, whose features resembled those of Songtsen Gampo. She felt a subtle yearning to see him again.
Back at her seat, Annie sipped her coffee, a distant look in her eyes, oblivious to her father Zaxi’s questions until Medora tugged at her sleeve.
Zaxi asked, “Did you hear the love song written by the ancestor last night, Annie?”
Annie nodded.
Zaxi, pleased, said, “Tsangyang Gyatso’s love poems, even after three centuries, still resonate deeply with people.”
________________________________________
02
Zaxi and his companions entered Jokhang Temple to tour.
“I’ll go to the restroom,” Annie said, walking to the side exit and dialing Gesang’s phone.
“Is this Dege Gesang?” she asked.
“Yes, speaking. Are you Annie?”
“Yes, I’m at the side exit of the main hall of Jokhang Temple.”
“All right, I’ll come to get you immediately.”
Within minutes, Gesang appeared, waving at Annie. He walked briskly up to her.
“Let’s go to my study first; I’ll show you some of the murals and Buddha statues I’ve collected.”
Annie followed Gesang along a stone path that twisted twice, arriving at a row of side rooms. They entered one, and Gesang led Annie to a long table, pointing at stacks of mural sketches.
“These are my copies of mural paintings. They are cataloged and studied in batches.”
Annie’s attention was drawn to two paintings on the wall—the portraits of Songtsen Gampo and Princess Wencheng, which Gesang had previously given her.
“These two on the wall—you gave them to me last time. I’d like to see the original murals,” she said.
Gesang explained, “These copies are reproduced from murals, which are mounted on the walls of the inner hall of the nearby Small Jokhang Temple.”
“Then please take me to see the murals themselves,” Annie requested.
“Of course, follow me.”
They left the study and arrived at the main hall of the Small Jokhang Temple. Gesang pointed to the left wall.
“There they are.”
Annie went to the left side, focusing on the murals.
“Look at Princess Wencheng’s features and bearing—they resemble yours.”
Annie turned and smiled at Gesang. She thought, “Is this a coincidence, or some meaningful guidance?”
An old lama, Gongka Sonam Rinpoche, reciting scriptures nearby, stopped and approached Annie with hands clasped, bowing repeatedly.
Startled, Annie listened as the lama spoke a long sentence in Tibetan to both of them:
“You are the reincarnation of Songtsen Gampo, and the woman beside you is the reincarnation of Princess Wencheng. Your return here is a mission entrusted by the Buddha. You must treat her well; she will be your wife in this life, coming from a thousand miles away to find you.”
Annie was astonished by the prophecy. Gesang thought, “How should I tell Annie about this karmic bond from a past life?”
Then the lama Sonam pulled Gesang aside:
“Great Gesang, I foresee you will face a life-and-death calamity. When that time comes, you must return here to find me. Perhaps I can help you survive it, so you can fulfill your mission in this life.”
Gesang replied, “Thank you, Rinpoche. I will remember your advice.”
________________________________________
03
In the main hall, Zaxi and the others had waited for Annie for some time, growing anxious.
“Where did that girl run off to? She said she was going to the restroom, and now she’s vanished.”
“I’ll check the restroom,” Medora said, walking quickly, and returned shortly: “She’s not there.”
“Maybe she got lost? Let’s split up and look for her,” Zhang Yang suggested.
“All right,” Zaxi agreed. “We’ll search separately. When we find her, call the others. Return here in fifteen minutes.”
While Zaxi and the others searched, Gesang and Annie appeared together in the main hall. Zaxi finally exhaled in relief.
“She got lost in the temple but ran into Gesang,” Annie explained.
“Professor Zaxi, nice to meet you,” Gesang greeted.
Zaxi, surprised, asked, “You two know each other?”
“Yesterday, on Octagon Well Old Street,” Gesang replied.
Zhang Yang, watching Gesang, sensed something suspicious and stared at him with doubt.
Zaxi smiled, “Then there’s no need for an introduction! Over the past year, Gesang has provided me with much mural material. He has dedicated himself to collecting and studying Tibetan Buddhist murals.”
________________________________________
04
In the hotel room, Annie leaned by the window, gazing at the street below at dusk. Tsangyang Gyatso’s love poem played in her mind:
“Whether you see me or not / I am there, neither sad nor joyful… Whether you follow me or not / My hand is in yours.”
She then took out paper and pen, sitting on the balcony by the window, writing a poem, word by word:
“Upside-Down Dreams”
The temple bell explodes from within me / Like ripe berries bursting one by one / I hear red blood cells / Nestling, transmitting codes / About being alive, that golden-threaded sutra of the soul, I just returned from California / From the sunny coast, my oxygen-rich flesh waiting / To be ignited by Zen insight / Thus I breathe in the world / Purified in a fireball / Enlightenment, becoming smoke, a cloud / A reflection on a clear lake mirror.
Buddha says: unspeakable / Unless hearts are in harmony, your past sorrows / Continue my wandering like the wind / The void I feel in our handshake / And this is just a dream, unrelated to the next life / A line game of feeling and non-feeling / Closed doors, no memoir intended / Snow, moon, flowers, wind—once the hard core of dreams is cracked / It’s merely a few rolls of romantic poetry / A few strange stories / Yet yin and yang divided, humans and ghosts eventually part ways.
This love could wait, but I was already bewildered / Still trapped in the cocoon of affection / Yet to comprehend worldly vicissitudes / Until someone calls me from the next life / Saying transformation comes only after experiencing impermanence and change / Let go of all forms and thoughts / Abandon upside-down dreams / Then Buddha will ferry me across / Prajñāpāramitā…
Beside her, Medora leafed through the book Tibetan Esoteric Mural Stupa Atlas that Annie had brought.
________________________________________
05
Annie left the hotel and returned to the nearby restaurant, placing her newly written poem on the wall.
She ordered a coffee at the counter and sat in the corner, reminiscing about her childhood with her grandmother, Tsering.
In the courtyard of the Tsangyang family home near Berkeley, California, on freshly tilled land, grandmother Tsering sowed barley seeds while little Annie, wearing a dress, held a small shovel, dirt smudging her hands and face.
“Grandma, will these seeds grow flowers?” little Annie asked.
Tsering replied, “These seeds will grow barley, like wheat, producing tiny flower spikes, and yield grain. When dried and pounded, the grain is ground into flour, the staple food of our homeland.”
At that moment, Zhang Yang entered the café. Seeing Annie lost in thought, he ordered a coffee and sat opposite her.
“Something on your mind?” he asked.
Annie smiled, “Just recalling some childhood memories.”
Zhang Yang asked with concern, “Coming back to Tibet, can you adapt to the highland life, Annie?”
Annie nodded.
“When will you return to California?”
“I’m here to search for a lost family heirloom: the original manuscript of Tsangyang Gyatso’s Love Poems. I’ll stay here until I find it,” she said.
Zhang Yang enthusiastically replied, “That manuscript sounds like an important ancient artifact. I have an old friend working at the local relics bureau. I can contact him to help inquire.”
Annie said, “Thank you for your help.”
Zhang Yang cautiously asked, “And the Tibetan youth you spoke with twice—seems you got along well with him?”
Annie replied lightly, “Just a new friend. We had some common topics, that’s all.”
Though reassured, Zhang Yang still felt uneasy but did not press further.