A place, I know as heaven’s clone
Now just a deserted soul all alone.
I sat down to pen a poem describing its splendour
But can my words do justice, I confess in wonder.
My thoughts go blank as the empty sky,
My fingers are numb and the ink went dry.
I am at loss of words, meanwhile the time sailed.
Today for the first time, as a poet I failed.
Slowly, the cloud of ignorance faded away and I came to see,
This land’s beauty cannot be captured by a poet as ordinary as me.
For this is something I missed or never thought,
That, in fact, Tibet is a poem composed by god.
A tortured soul struggling for love and peace,
Suffering selflessly yet putting others at ease.
Crying for an identity, crying for a face,
To live as equals in this heartless human race.
In vain I tried, stretching my helpless hand,
To wipe away the tears of my chained fatherland.
If you are up there anywhere, have mercy on my country, oh..lord!
See whats happened to the beautiful poem, once composed by god.