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Home > Poems > The Burial

The Burial

Sunday 21 October 2007, by Tenzin Dickyi

In the village, simple folk who ransacked
the chapel neglect the subject.
"The thangkas were burnt," they reluctantly say
when pressed, "the statues smashed."

The smell of smoke lingers in wood,
in altars, and faithfully engraved tables.

For a complicit people,
forgiveness must come first,
then perhaps freedom.   Where this is not acknowledged,
grave-robbers are not welcome.

1 Message

  • The Burial 24 June 2009 at 09:16 , by Rinchen Tsering

    Just from a critical point of view here:
    You tend to bring the image of a chapel in your pieces, where its relevance is to be examined. And it’s "in the woods" with a plural "s", and not "in altars, … tables", it is: on altars, … tables.
    Sadly it seems nobody checks for qualities of writings here in exile. Where wind blows, there we follow, sigh!

    Rinchen Tsering

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