Dukkha ranges from acute pain to subtle anxiety—the sense that nothing lasts or fully satisfies. In poetry, it appears as autumn leaves falling, a cracked bowl, or a restless mind. Poets use it not to despair but to awaken: showing that recognizing dukkha is the first step toward liberation, where even sorrow becomes a teacher pointing to the peace beyond clinging.

Dukkha, often translated as “suffering,” more accurately means “unsatisfactoriness”—the subtle stress in all conditioned existence, from pain to the anxiety of impermanence. The First Noble Truth diagnoses dukkha; the Second identifies craving (tanha) as its cause. In poetry, dukkha appears in laments, but also in quiet observations—a falling leaf, a parting glance. Zen poets embrace dukkha without despair, finding beauty in transience. For students, recognizing dukkha’s nuances prevents reductionist readings of Buddhism as pessimistic; rather, it’s a realistic starting point for liberation.