🎵 “Still I Walk” or *“Attadīpa viharatha”
— By Bhikkhu Indasoma (Sao Dhammasami)
Just an ordinary bhikkhu,
With a dream in my hand…
To preserve what was sacred,
To walk where few would stand…
I gathered monks and layfolk,
To guard the Buddha’s name.
A circle of devotion,
For relics wrapped in flame.
We planned, we hoped, we listened—
A mission born of truth.
But truth is not so welcome,
When silence feels more smooth.
One by one they left me,
Some feared the weight and blame.
Some bowed to quiet pressure,
And vanished from the flame.
They called it too political,
Too strange, too much to bear…
And I stood still, with relics,
Alone in faithful care.
Still I walk, still I serve,
Even when there’s no applause.
My vow is not for comfort—
It is for the Buddha’s cause.
Though I walk without a chorus,
And few remain to see…
The Dhamma is my lantern,
And that is enough for me.
“Where did you steal them from?” they asked,
Their gaze sharp as a knife.
I held my breath in silence,
But felt them doubt my life.
I’ve never touched a border,
That bears forbidden ground—
Yet still they cast suspicion,
And left me spellbound.
*“Attadīpa viharatha” — be an island in the storm…
*“Saddhā, Viriya, Adhiṭṭhāna…” — these perfections keep me warm.
*“Nekkhamma pāramī” — to walk without reward…
The Noble Eightfold Path is still my only sword.
One friend is worth a hundred,
If they walk in Dhamma’s light.
I do not need a temple crowd
To prove my work is right.
Each record, note, and prayer I make
Is offered with deep care…
For future hearts to one day know
The relics resting there.
*May this truth shine through rejection,
May this task find strength anew…
May my silence speak in volumes,
When I am no longer in view.
To the Buddha, Dhamma, Sangha—
I give my life, my breath, my vow…
The work continues quietly…
Still I walk — and still I bow.*
