To call Ngabo a patriot and to put him on the same pedestal as the Great Thirteenth is a historical error.
Despite its economic growth, today’s China is no fairer than the serfdom that Beijing is loudly shouting about.
The bright yellow sun has / Set behind the Freedom Hill / Now I cannot put my faith in / This dark and violent storm
My body is trapped in a heated room. / Light shines from the ceiling. / A leather sofa invites me
Take care and make sure that Rangzen is not killed.
Whistling of wind / Messages from beyond / I fail to decipher
An old man below a weeping willow / Hears the wind whipping / The leafless branches / Hanging down
Why is his blood so hot? They ask, / And I tell them — / That you were orphaned by circumstances
Death does not need a licence to announce itself. It is an independent agent answerable to our karma alone.
The new flowers that bloom will find wisdom in the words of these people… and through words their names will be remembered and honoured.
The literary works of young exile Tibetans are a raw and unpolished burst of energy that springs from their deeply wounded souls.
If you only drag me out / I’ll accept all your accusations / And sign the confession documents.
They were in full foliage / The dandelions of Tibet, / When the hail stormed
Coloured threads, thin plastics / Strips of paper with myriad quotes, / Diamond crusted silver butterfly
World, so full of people / Each one lonely within, / Strives to find that SOMEONE
A lone yellow leaf / nods on a brown branch / a soulful scene, / wind blows
I sing for all things dead and alive / For all things moving and still / For all moms who cry for their far away sons,
I am what I am / One for all / All for none, / An empty crevice
Loose… gone down Crack… pulled out Madness… forced upon me I am a jelly fish But I couldn’t slip through them I am the precious one But I have no strength to stand Nor will to go forward I am a dead fish No motion any where I am an anti-anti My worth worthless I …
On the Friendship road / We travel writing a note / Dylan, me and Robin Hood,