A life of eighteen years in the vast land of white, Of diverse cultures and religions, Stamped as 'refugee' from the land Of the greatest lamas. Ancestors of mine led their lives, In the ever-evolving philosophies Of ancient knowledge, The land of sacred personalities, Texts, and monasteries, Enriched by the precious ones Spread far and wide. People of high faith and belief, Bound within a sacred boundary Of humane fame and power. But aiming with farsighted Imperialistic acts, The vast land of black Conquered it in the bloody year of '49, Torturing and cold-bloodedly massacring Large masses mercilessly, inhumanly. Struggled hard, uncaring For their lives, shaping my fate. But I, who led A life of freedom without fear, Starvation, and torture, By the grace of the compassionate one, Was sanctioned with A life as a student, a Tibetan. Nothing much to contribute now, But I hope and pray that A day will come when I too Join the martyrs' movement, Who offered their bodies as lamps For the freedom of Tibet, In Tibet.
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