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Where Tibetans Write

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Poems

Latest addition : 16 June 2014.

Poems written by Tibetans

This section's articles

  • The other…

    4 February 2010, by Tsering Dolkar

    Buddha lies hidden under a silk scarf Tucked in a drawer at home in Lhasa At night I restore it, and say my prayers Prayers to forgive my cowardice Prayers to relieve me of suffering. I look from afar at the giant monastic doors The crowd walks in with their prayer beads I have pledged my hands to communism I can’t go in with my old butter lamp. Night after night I am awake in my dreams I hear the echo of my dead parents I relive their hunger and blood in revolution It is here (...)

  • Shadow

    19 January 2010, by TW

    A shadow that follows Wherever I go, A shadow that allows No freedom, wherever I go. This shadow of injustice Was born before my birth, This shadow of tyranny That encroached my house. Run, run away From the specter of this shadow With all might I shun from the phantoms of its darkness. A shadow of prejudice As a homeless vagrant, A shadow of humiliation In an inescapable vicious (...)

  • Mani

    19 January 2010, by TW

    One Recite one Mani Recite ten Mani Recite one hundred, one thousand Mani Pray ! Ten thousand, one hundred thousand Mani ! Countless are the spirits of those who have died Endless the warm spilt blood, the flowing river. Thus with each and every Mani Shall come immeasurable grief and compassion Love, affection and untainted prayer. Two Light one splendid butter lamp Light ten splendid butter lamps One hundred, one thousand splendid butter lamps Give the light of ten thousand, (...)

  • Return to Snows

    13 August 2009, by Tenzin Dickyi

    Snowflakes pull their punches landing On my face much as cats do, with Stockinged feet and kind concern. I keep close watch on my dreams Allowing only two to grow in free-flow. When circumstances threaten I Self-abort the first dream- Safely keeping just the second- The second dream of return. Must I accept my sentence, This slow sentience, this Awful partial awakening? Must I always say grace Before drinking from The cup of (...)

  • A Song from a Distance

    24 November 2008, by Bhuchung D Sonam

    My body is trapped in a heated room. Light shines from the ceiling. A leather sofa invites me To let my spine relax, But my heart runs To that river by the village That bridge made of leather thongs Rocking with the wind, That dusty yard where I was tied to a boulder while mama Worked in the field everyday. Here grey houses stare at me. The people on the train, Frozen, edgy, tired, lonely, lost, Wish for other versions of their lives. My mind runs to That (...)

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