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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

  • Verdict

    21 February 2008, by Tenzin Dickyi

    Ladies and gentlemen, these trace fossils belong to our dearly departed Tyrannosaurus Rex. I say this with surety because his foot prints lead to his open coffin. These Oviraptors, maligned raiders of Protoceratopsian nests, are cleared on all counts of assault, battery and theft, when their legal counsel proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were guarding the nests, not raiding them. The legal counsel, in the style of Solomon or Sakyamuni and other wise men, cracks open the (...)

  • Of Mixed Race

    18 February 2008, by Woeser

    The fading mirage, The offspring of those poor and clandestine tribes, Amidst the great mountains and flowing rivers, Draws from her meagre store of adjectives To lift up their much envied voices singing, That sounds like chains of gleaming golden coins. More precious than the golden coins, the sacrifice, In return, she obtains a little joy at least; She is revelled by ambition That her prominent cheekbones are burnt by the setting sun, And one by one plums fall away, Her bones (...)

  • Ama Jetsun Pema

    11 January 2008, by Tsoltim N. Shakabpa

    Ama Jetsun Pema-la You are the ever bright sun That shines through the stormy weather Plaguing the desolate children of Tibet You are the trustworthy glowing moon That sheds light in the darkness Surrounding the forgotten children of Tibet You are the eternal shining light That creates rising stars Of the hopeless children of Tibet You are the reliable silver lining Behind the dark clouds Hovering over the down-trodden children of Tibet You are the sacrificial lamb That gives (...)

  • ? ? ?

    8 January 2008, by Bhuchung D Sonam

    You see him walking Walking… not crawling yet His head slightly bowed His shoulder stooped a little From burdens that is not seen with our eyes. You see him walking Walking… not crawling yet His eyes a bit downcast His lips partly pursed From burden of words unheard and unclaimed. We hear him speak Speak… not whispering yet His face a little mournful His body slightly bend From burden of those who stare at him to mock. he is an activist… shun him he is a patriot… curse him (...)

  • Run, Run, The Ones Who Run

    8 January 2008, by Tsoltim N. Shakabpa

    Run, [1] Run, The Ones Who Run [2] Run from God’s Earth [3] Away from the Great Blackness [4] Which blankets your country with darkness To the Great Whiteness [5] Which accepts you with compassion And return to God’s Earth After you have wiped the Great Blackness From the face of your beloved country

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