A poem by Mongolian scholar-poet Zava Damdin (b. 1976).

Plate note: Untitled. An illustration offered in companionship with the poem “Art Without Artifice”. C.Pleteshner for CPinMongolia. 3 September 2026.

ART WITHOUT ARTIFICE

(English Translation)

The tips of the grasses, dipped in golden-yellow ink, ¹Golden-yellow ink is a translation of алтан шаргал бэх. Алтан шаргал allows several English possibilities, including “golden”, “golden-yellow” and, in some contexts, “golden-brown”. I chose “golden-yellow” rather than the smoother “golden” to retain the colour specificity of the Mongolian.
reach upward and sway, writing nature’s poem without design.
The wind seems to slow, as though soothing an inner sadness; ²Inner sadness (дотоод гуниг) may also be rendered as “inner sorrow” or “melancholy”. I chose “inner sadness” for its closeness to the Mongolian and its lighter emotional weight.
the sun, casting gentle warmth, asks many wordless questions.

Even the birds’ chirping grows softer as they watch distant travellers on a long journey;
they seem deeply at peace, ready to fly in formation across the lineless sky.
On this very wave of distant time, every silken moment encountered is fragile, tender ³Fragile, tender (эмзэг бөгөөд хөндүүр) may also be rendered as “fragile, sore” or “fragile, aching”. I chose “fragile, tender” because it preserves the sensitivity of the Mongolian while leaving the following line to carry the resolution.
yet, looking from that very place at the far-off present that has taken wing,⁴эдүгээ means now, the present, this present time; алс makes that present distant or far-off. The combination is deliberately paradoxical: the present itself is being perceived as something distant. the heart grows deeply settled.

Clouds stretch in fine strands, like rich woven silk, revealing art without artifice; ⁵Art without artifice (урлал үгүй урлал) may also be rendered as “art without artistry” or “art without contrivance”. I chose “artifice” because it conveys the absence of deliberate making or contrivance while retaining the sense of artistry in урлал.
forms of uncommon beauty ⁶Forms of uncommon beauty (үлэмж дүрсийн охь болсон нугууд) may also be rendered as “the finest of forms” or “forms of rare refinement”. I chose “uncommon beauty” to convey the exceptional quality suggested by үлэмж and охь without making the English overly ornate.
appear one after another, like paintings in an album.
What fades away and what comes to meet us no longer ask to be ordered as “memories”;
like the trace of a hardy bird that has flown through the air, ⁷Hardy (хажир) may also be rendered as “tough”, “resilient” or “weathered”. I chose “hardy” because it retains the sense of toughness and endurance in хажир without making the bird seem harsh or coarse.
they cannot be grasped. ⁸Translated by C. Pleteshner. English interpretation 4.09.2026 from the original Mongolian 31.08.2026. Translation is always an interpretation into another culture and one of its languages. Any errors in this regard are entirely my own, and for these I humbly apologise.

Poet-son of Dragon Mountain
4 September 2026

_______________________________

УРЛАЛ ҮГҮЙ УРЛАЛ

(Original Mongolian)

Өвсний толгой алтан шаргал бэхэн дор дүрэгдэж
Өөд тэмүүлэн найгаж зоригдол үгүй байгалийн шүлэг бичмүй
Салхин удааширсан мэт болоод дотоод гунигийг аргадах шиг
Саахь наран ахай зөөлөн илчээр төөнөж үг үгүй олон асуулт асуумуй

Шувууд жиргэх нь хүртэл намуухан болж холын аянчдыг ажин
Шугам үгүй огторгуйн зам зэл татахуй дор бэлэн болсон мэт нэн амгалан болжухуй
Тэртээх он цагийн энэ л үелзэл дээр учирсан торгон агшин бүхэн эмзэг бөгөөд хөндүүр
Тэгэвч яг тэндээс жигүүрлэн одсон алс эдүгээг үзвээс сэтгэл гүн тогтуун болжухуй

Үүлс хив торго мэт сэмжлэн татаж урлал үгүй урлал үзүүлэхүй дор
Үлэмж дүрсийн охь болсон нугууд зургийн цомог мэт ээлж дараалан үзэгдэмүй
Ажран одохуй угтан ирэхүй нүгүүд дуртгал дор горим шаардах үгүй болж
Агаар дор халих хажир шувууны нисэж өнгөрсөн мөр мэт баригдах үгүй орччухуй

Луут Уулын шүлэгч хөвгүүн
31.08.2026

_______________________________

DISCUSSION

1.INTRODUCTION

We each read and appreciate poetry from different perspectives and in different ways, and a beautiful poem such as Art Without Artifice invites many possible readings. I was initially drawn, as is often the case when studying Zava Damdin’s poetry, to its restrained and subtle beauty.

In the process of translation, however, as I returned again and again to each phrase and word, studying them more closely because particular translation decisions had to be made, I began to consider more carefully what else this poem and Zava Rinpoche were asking of us as readers.

With the Venerable Zava Damdin Rinpoche’s literary compositions, poetry, however beautiful, tends to carry more than its immediate poetic surface.

“Art Without Artifice” may well be understood less as a contemplation or representation of landscape, as in the artwork above, than as an invitation to attend to what may become perceptible when the mind ceases trying to organise experience without immediately grasping at what appears.

In this context, “nature” may be read less as supplying symbols for Buddhist ideas than as disclosing, through its movements, a way of seeing in which appearances, change and memories arise without being fixed.

_______________________________

2. TITLE

The title “УРЛАЛ ҮГҮЙ УРЛАЛ” is crucial. Урлал can mean art, artistry, craft or skilful making, while үгүй places that very idea of making in question. “Art Without Artifice” seems to work well as a translation, but from what I can work out, the Mongolian language also permits something more radical: artistry in which there is no making.

The grass writes a poem zorigdol ügüi (зоригдол үгүй), without intention or deliberate purpose. Clouds likewise reveal urlal ügüi urlal (урлал үгүй урлал), art without artifice. Read together, these images locate beauty in forms that arise without having been deliberately fashioned.

From a Buddhist perspective, this loosens the usual distinction between maker and made. The grass is not literally a poet; the clouds are not artists. Yet form continually comes into being. The poem asks us to attend to arising without immediately requiring an author, intention or fixed meaning behind what appears.

John Berger’s Ways of Seeing offers a useful point of comparison here. Berger reminds us that seeing is never simply a passive reception of what is before us; what we see is shaped by what we know and believe (Berger 1972, 8). Art Without Artifice seems to turn this epistemic problem in another direction, asking what may become perceptible when the impulse to organise, explain or possess what appears begins to recede. Grass, clouds and birds remain fully present, but they need not be made to yield an immediate or fixed meaning.⁹This is my reading of Rinpoche’s poem, perhaps carrying the resonance of something I have previously been taught, rather than a position argued by a scholar of Buddhist epistemology. For related approaches, see Son (2026, 213–42), who distinguishes Buddhist aesthetic experience from theories of artistic production, and Sebastian (2026, 1–15), whose recent study considers Buddhist aesthetics beyond the conventional confines of art and images. Berger (1972, 7–10) offers a different but useful point of comparison through his account of seeing as shaped by what we know and believe. All three are included in the References section.

_______________________________

3. MOVEMENT OF IMAGES ¹⁰I use movement of images here to describe the way one poetic image gives way to another, allowing perception and thought to unfold through their succession and relation.

This becomes clearer in the extraordinary movements that follow in the poem. The wind seems to slow; inward sadness is seemingly consoled; the sun asks “many wordless questions”. None of these statements simply asserts what nature is doing. The repeated use of мэт / шиг (“as though”, “like”) is important. It does not seem as if Rinpoche is rigidly associating outer phenomena with inner states. Instead, perception seems to move delicately between them, with the mind encountering the world without quite fixing what each encounter means.

The birds deepen this. The lineless sky (шугам үгүй огторгуй) is nevertheless open to the birds as they prepare to draw out their route through it. A path appears through movement, but there is no permanent path inscribed in the sky. Later this becomes explicit in the comparison like the trace of a hardy bird that has flown through the air (Агаар дор халих хажир шувууны нисэж өнгөрсөн мөр мэт). Its passage occurs, yet its track cannot be grasped. This is very close to a Buddhist contemplation of phenomena without needing the poem to announce a doctrine of impermanence: something has genuinely happened, but what has passed cannot be grasped as something fixed.

_______________________________

4. MODULATION ¹¹I use modulation here in its literary sense to describe a gradual change in tone, emphasis or quality within the poem. The usage is analogous to musical modulation: the movement changes while retaining a perceptible relation to what came before.

At this point, my reading is not that the poem treats appearances as meaningless; rather, they seem to be intensely felt. Every silken moment (торгон агшин) is fragile and tender (эмзэг бөгөөд хөндүүр). Read from what seems to me a buddhist perspective, this suggests that settledness need not erase sensitivity.¹²This reading is informed less by published scholarship than by echoes of Teachings I have previously received. I offer it here as one possible buddhist reading of the poem rather than as a doctrinal claim.The delicacy and hurt of the moment may even be part of what makes the subsequent heart grows deeply settled (сэтгэл гүн тогтуун болжухуй) possible.

That leads me to be cautious about translating тогтуун simply as “calm”. In this context, it seems to suggest something more substantial: a mind that has settled, no longer being carried helplessly by what arises and passes. Importantly, my understanding of the point Rinpoche is making in this line is that “settledness” does not come from escaping time, but from looking from precisely there towards the far-off present (алс эдүгээ) that has already taken wing. ¹³I chose from precisely there for яг тэндээс because it keeps the deictic reference open, without reducing “there” too quickly to a singularly spatial, temporal or contemplative sense. ¹⁴Deictic reference simply means language whose meaning depends on the speaker’s or observer’s point of reference, as with words such as “here”, “there”, “now” and “then”. ¹⁵This has been the gnarliest knot in the translation of Art Without Artifice to unpack, and I offer my sincerest apologies to Zava Rinpoche and other readers if my understanding on this point is still incorrect.

The clouds then provide perhaps the poem’s clearest statement of what I read as its buddhist aesthetic.¹⁶Here, buddhist aesthetic refers to a way of attending to beauty in which appearance is not treated simply as a finished or permanent object. In this poem, the aesthetic seems to lie in the unfolding of form through grass, birds, clouds, memory and passing time. Berger’s account of seeing offers a useful point of comparison, particularly his argument that what we see is shaped by what we know and believe (Berger 1972, 8).¹⁷What makes this aesthetic buddhist, in my reading, is the relation between beauty and non-grasping. The forms are fully present and intensely perceived, yet their value does not depend on preserving or securing them. Their arising and passing can be attended to without requiring that they become permanent objects. They stretch in fine strands, like rich woven silk (хив торго мэт сэмжлэн татаж), while forms of uncommon beauty (Үлэмж дүрсийн охь болсон нугууд) appear one after another, like paintings in an album (зургийн цомог мэт ээлж дараалан үзэгдэмүй). The comparison with paintings in an album does not, however, make these forms permanent.

An album ordinarily preserves images; here, each form appears only to give way to another.
Their beauty seems to lie partly in that succession.

_______________________________

5. NON-GRASPING

That prepares the final two lines:

What fades away and what comes to meet us no longer ask to be ordered as “memories”;
like the trace of a hardy bird that has flown through the air, they cannot be grasped.

Ажран одохуй угтан ирэхүй нүгүүд дуртгал дор горим шаардах үгүй болж
Агаар дор халих хажир шувууны нисэж өнгөрсөн мөр мэт баригдах үгүй орччухуй

Here, I think the poem comes closest to what may be read as non-grasping.¹⁸Here, non-grasping is meant in a broad buddhist sense rather than as a claim that Rinpoche is expounding a particular doctrine. It points to a loosening of the tendency to grasp at what arises and passes. For a scholarly discussion of grasping, attachment and non-attachment within Buddhist thought, see Davis (2013, 306–17).What passes away and what comes towards us no longer seem to require ordering within recollection. The phrase cannot be grasped (баригдах үгүй) is especially important. It suggests that what has occurred need not be fixed or held as something permanent.

_______________________________

6. ART WITHOUT ARTIFICE

The central idea in this poem, as I read it, is not a withdrawal from experience but a changed relation to it. The poet (ZDR) remains fully responsive to what appears, even as those appearances are allowed to pass without being fixed. This is also why I feel Art Without Artifice is such an apt title.

The art lies not only in the beauty of the landscape,
but in forms arising and passing without needing to be held.—CP

_______________________________

NOTES

• 1
  Golden-yellow ink is a translation of алтан шаргал бэх. Алтан шаргал allows several English possibilities, including “golden”, “golden-yellow” and, in some contexts, “golden-brown”. I chose “golden-yellow” rather than the smoother “golden” to retain the colour specificity of the Mongolian. ↩︎
• 2
  Inner sadness (дотоод гуниг) may also be rendered as “inner sorrow” or “melancholy”. I chose “inner sadness” for its closeness to the Mongolian and its lighter emotional weight. ↩︎
• 3
  Fragile, tender (эмзэг бөгөөд хөндүүр) may also be rendered as “fragile, sore” or “fragile, aching”. I chose “fragile, tender” because it preserves the sensitivity of the Mongolian while leaving the following line to carry the resolution. ↩︎
• 4
  эдүгээ means now, the present, this present time; алс makes that present distant or far-off. The combination is deliberately paradoxical: the present itself is being perceived as something distant. ↩︎
• 5
  Art without artifice (урлал үгүй урлал) may also be rendered as “art without artistry” or “art without contrivance”. I chose “artifice” because it conveys the absence of deliberate making or contrivance while retaining the sense of artistry in урлал. ↩︎
• 6
  Forms of uncommon beauty (үлэмж дүрсийн охь болсон нугууд) may also be rendered as “the finest of forms” or “forms of rare refinement”. I chose “uncommon beauty” to convey the exceptional quality suggested by үлэмж and охь without making the English overly ornate. ↩︎
• 7
  Hardy (хажир) may also be rendered as “tough”, “resilient” or “weathered”. I chose “hardy” because it retains the sense of toughness and endurance in хажир without making the bird seem harsh or coarse. ↩︎
• 8
  Translated by C. Pleteshner. English interpretation 4.09.2026 from the original Mongolian 31.08.2026. Translation is always an interpretation into another culture and one of its languages. Any errors in this regard are entirely my own, and for these I humbly apologise. ↩︎
• 9
  This is my reading of Rinpoche’s poem, perhaps carrying the resonance of something I have previously been taught, rather than a position argued by a scholar of Buddhist epistemology. For related approaches, see Son (2026, 213–42), who distinguishes Buddhist aesthetic experience from theories of artistic production, and Sebastian (2026, 1–15), whose recent study considers Buddhist aesthetics beyond the conventional confines of art and images. Berger (1972, 7–10) offers a different but useful point of comparison through his account of seeing as shaped by what we know and believe. All three are included in the References section. ↩︎
• 10
  I use movement of images here to describe the way one poetic image gives way to another, allowing perception and thought to unfold through their succession and relation. ↩︎
• 11
  I use modulation here in its literary sense to describe a gradual change in tone, emphasis or quality within the poem. The usage is analogous to musical modulation: the movement changes while retaining a perceptible relation to what came before. ↩︎
• 12
  This reading is informed less by published scholarship than by echoes of Teachings I have previously received. I offer it here as one possible buddhist reading of the poem rather than as a doctrinal claim. ↩︎
• 13
  I chose from precisely there for яг тэндээс because it keeps the deictic reference open, without reducing “there” too quickly to a singularly spatial, temporal or contemplative sense. ↩︎
• 14
  Deictic reference simply means language whose meaning depends on the speaker’s or observer’s point of reference, as with words such as “here”, “there”, “now” and “then”. ↩︎
• 15
  This has been the gnarliest knot in the translation of Art Without Artifice to unpack, and I offer my sincerest apologies to Zava Rinpoche and other readers if my understanding on this point is still incorrect. ↩︎
• 16
  Here, buddhist aesthetic refers to a way of attending to beauty in which appearance is not treated simply as a finished or permanent object. In this poem, the aesthetic seems to lie in the unfolding of form through grass, birds, clouds, memory and passing time. Berger’s account of seeing offers a useful point of comparison, particularly his argument that what we see is shaped by what we know and believe (Berger 1972, 8). ↩︎
• 17
  What makes this aesthetic buddhist, in my reading, is the relation between beauty and non-grasping. The forms are fully present and intensely perceived, yet their value does not depend on preserving or securing them. Their arising and passing can be attended to without requiring that they become permanent objects. ↩︎
• 18
  Here, non-grasping is meant in a broad buddhist sense rather than as a claim that Rinpoche is expounding a particular doctrine. It points to a loosening of the tendency to grasp at what arises and passes. For a scholarly discussion of grasping, attachment and non-attachment within Buddhist thought, see Davis (2013, 306–17). ↩︎

_______________________________

THE IMAGE

Built from restrained tonal washes, fine linear detail, translucent layering and open negative space, “Untitled” is my composition, developed with the assistance of AI. I directed and refined the forms, textures and spatial relationships, while allowing some elements to emerge through the generative process.

This shared method of deliberate choice and partial unpredictability feels particularly apt beside Art Without Artifice, where not everything that appears has been deliberately fashioned.

_______________________________

REFERENCES

Berger, John. 1972. Ways of Seeing. London: British Broadcasting Corporation and Penguin Books.

Davis, Leesa S. 2013. “Mindfulness, Non-Attachment and Other Buddhist Virtues.” In The Handbook of Virtue Ethics, edited by Stan van Hooft, Nafsika Athanassoulis, Jason Kawall, Justin Oakley, and Liezl van Zyl, 306–17. Durham: Acumen Publishing (now incorporated into the Routledge/Taylor & Francis ecosystem).

Sebastian, C. D. 2026. “Buddhist Aesthetics: Beyond Art and Images.” Philosophical Traditions of the World 9: 1–15. Sebastian approaches Buddhist aesthetics beyond the conventional confines of artworks and images. His study is relevant to broader questions of how aesthetic experience may be understood without beginning from the categories of artist, artwork and deliberate production.

Son, Jimin. 2026. “Empirical Aesthetics and the History of Buddhist Art: Theoretical Insights from Recent Reflections on the ‘Origin’ of the Buddha Image.” Journal of Humanities, Seoul National University 83 (1): 213–42. Son distinguishes Buddhist aesthetic experience from explanations centred on the production and historical origins of art. Her discussion is useful here for thinking beyond the assumption that aesthetic experience must begin with a deliberately produced art object.

End of transcript.

Please refer to the INDEX for other poems and articles that may be of interest.

© 2013-2026. CP in Mongolia. “Mongolian Poetry 65: Art Without Artifice” is licensed under the  Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License. Open access should not be understood as the absence of attribution. Documents linked from this page may be subject to other restrictions.   Posted: 3 September 2026. Last updated: 3 September 2026.