Dharmakaya
Morning / The blue Dharmakaya / Noon
I’m Tired
I am tired, / I am tired doing that 10th March ritual, screaming from the hills of Dharamsala.
Visions in Snippets
Life delights and death mourns / But life goes on
Poisons of the Mind
A Tibetan Geshe came / in the morning / and spoke about poisons / that grow in our mind
Reality and Illusion
There are too big for me / They always come in motion / To pinpoint is too hard for me
Horizon
From home you have reached / the Horizon here. / From here to another
Betrayal
My father died / defending our home, / our village, our country. …
Terrorist
I am a terrorist. / I like to kill. / I have horns, / two fangs
When it Rains in Dharamsala
When it rains in Dharamsala / raindrops wear boxing gloves, / thousands of them come crashing down
Refugee
When I was / born my mother said / you are a refugee.
Exile House
Our tiled roof dripped / and the four walls threatened to fall apart / but we were to go home soon,
Words of Farewell
Not even a petty word of farewell / One in the crowd, standing motionless
My Tibetanness
Thirty-nine years in exile. / Yet no nation supports us. / Not a single bloody nation!
Losar Greeting
Tashi Delek! / Though in a borrowed garden / you grow, grow well my sister.
Time’s Treachery
O Tibet, for millennia you stood alone and aloof / Locked yourself in the embrace / of cold mountain corners
Ode to Yak
A grudging gush grew from the east / Grey grasses nomads endured the worst
Tsampa
Tsampa has height history / In independent Tibet she was our stance
Lhasa
Majestic peaks, crowned with eternal snow / swaying in the blue heavens.
To John
If you cross the giant Himalayas / You’ll find my country Tibet
The Mother Cuckoo
Poem by Tsamchoe Dolma: The mist was gone somewhere in the depth of the valley / The shower left a sweet scent