I rose in the morning hoping the sun will shine,
The Barkhor filled with bright prospects
Decked in their best, carrying incense;
Trying to take a shortcut to nirvana –

I have given up all hope of becoming a saint
Living the life of a learned ascetic
Pretending wisdom, knowledge –
False powers, Tantric divination

I gave up all to become a beggar in Barkhor To ease the pain of disappointment
Lack of self control, and the tears –
Losing a loved one is terribly hard.

Now I am a parasite of the communist party
Among the clutter of Chinese wares
That’s taken my spot and banished –
I’m homeless in a virtual prison.