I heard someone in the street …
Poem by Tendor: I heard someone in the street say / This was the year when you lost
Poem by Tendor: I heard someone in the street say / This was the year when you lost
Last spring, I was waiting for a bus in Cairo. Dawn was just breaking, and Tahrir Square, where the bus station was located,
Last Sunday on October 3rd, thousands of Tibetans went to the polls to vote for the Prime Minister and MPs of the Tibetan Government-in-Exile.
The Cat put us through hell, / Killed my kin, dreaded my mind.
Poem by Palden rGyal: A shadow that follows / Wherever I go, / A shadow that allows / No freedom,
In early November, during a visit to Nepal by Ellen Sauerbrey, a United States official in charge of refugee policy..
Article by Tsoltim N Shakabpa: One shiny day, no matter how long it takes, Tibet will be free and independent if only we continue the struggle.
Poem by Tsoltim N Shakabpa: I cry, in sorrow, / For those who / Would give up the light
Poem by Tsoltim N Shakabpa: Lest no man knows better / Know ye all / That Tibet is a country
Independence is not only our natural and legal right — it is the express wish of the Tibetan people at large.
We cannot and we will not regain our lost freedom simply by talking about it or even by praying, hoping and waiting for it. We must rise up and fight for freedom.
The Dérgé Parkhang Chenmo (Derge Printing Press) in Dérgé County of Kham Region, Tibet, survived through from the beginning the Chinese occupation of Tibet in late 1950s to the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976) and the reconstruction drive in the late 1980’s.
In a faraway land, / Like a bird betrayed of its nest.
Some feel it in the morning dew / Some feel it with the drizzling rain.
Yet another day passes, Yet another day sleeps / Enter the world of dreams, bringing love in heaps.
Poem by Tenzin Gelek: A place, I know as heaven’s clone / Now just a deserted soul all alone.
Silence of emptiness pierced through the air, / And forlorn feathers fluttered in the captive sky.
Sands of time slipping from my grasp, / Pages of my life, melodies of my unsung past.
Under the lazy sun, I basked / Reminiscing the past of joy and peace.
The dawn is here now / I foresee, a happy free Tibet / And our day will soon be here.