All I can retrieve is a feeling of unreality and a sense of emptiness, buoyed by deeper unresolved emotions that once again question who I really am and what I hope to discover by coming here.
“How can I not return? Our home is there. If we all leave, to whom will Tibet be left?” … Later while Norway — the symbol of the free world — was gradually left behind, two streams of tears silently ran down Nyima Tsering’s bony cheeks.
O Tibet, for millennia you stood alone and aloof / Locked yourself in the embrace / of cold mountain corners
A grudging gush grew from the east / Grey grasses nomads endured the worst
The DÃ©rgÃ© Parkhang Chenmo (Derge Printing Press) in DÃ©rgÃ© 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.
Tsampa has height history / In independent Tibet she was our stance
Majestic peaks, crowned with eternal snow / swaying in the blue heavens.
Four decades after the CIA first got involved in Tibet, Roger McCarthy looks back and sums up its outcome: “If we look at what we did to Tibet as about the best that we could do, then I say that we have failed … miserably.”
Ram can claim neither the fire of idealism nor the smokescreen of ignorance to justify his unquestioning promotion of the totalitarian Beijing regime and its colonial hold on Tibet.
If you cross the giant Himalayas / You’ll find my country Tibet
The clear blue sky, / The warmth of the sun, / The fragrant flowers, / The majestic mountains
The Potala has never been, with the changing of time and space, so colourful, so odd, and even helpless and sad, as it has been during this half century.
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.