POETRY
ECHOES ACROSS THE HIMALAYAS
Tibetan Homes Foundation
These poems are part of a larger collection made by Barbara Hurd who worked with children at Tibetan Homes Foundation while on a sabbatical in India in the fall of 1999.
Praise the Gentle
Praise things that are gentle:
the advice of H.H. Dalai Lama,
the respect of students,
talking of some people
and the nature of the mind,
the gong of gentle clouds,
a full-of-sky gentle,
the worship of God,
words of a monk.
I love things which are gentle.
– Kunsang Lhamo, Class 9B, Age 15
Praise Blue
I praise things that are blue on this planet!
The fill of ocean,
a uniform shirt of my former school,
the full-of-sky blue,
a student with blue pen.
The blue of books with covers,
rivers and painted colors of blue,
shining blue eyes,
flowers blue with peace.
My favorite blue of nature is sky,
our Tibetan flag with blue,
a hill of blue.
I praise things all that are blue.
– Tsering Yangchen, Class 9, Age 14
What did you dream about last night?
I dreamed about the regions of Tibet
that are covered by snow,
fields lapped with flowers,
and trees full of peaches.
This is my country,
where there is peace on it.
I could see my country--
the animals grazing on green fields
and I, looking after them
until the sun sets.
This is my country,
where there is peace on it.
I could see the rainbow
blooming over our region,
a face prevailing,
as if he is smiling or blessing,
this view of the Laughing Buddha.
This is my country,
where there is peace on it.
I dreamed about the Potala,
house of God in the capital of Lhasa
where people of all castes come
for pilgrimmage or worship.
This is my country,
where there is peace on it.
I dreamed at last
that our country is free,
and we all go back to our native land
to fulfill our dreams,
to be in reality.
This is my country,
where there is peace on it.
– Tenzin Rapten,Class 9, Age 16
A Day So Sad
Like orphan children
departed from parents,
punished like animals,
without human rights,
we ran like camels
without food or water for weeks.
Owl-like, we cross the borders at night.
– Kalsang Ladoe, Class 11
Destroying Our Customs
In 1959 they came into our peaceful land,
the red Chinese, very cruel, who captured
our fatherland.
They destroyed our monasteries,
our cultures, our customs.
They made our peaceful land
into one horrified land.
In 1959 they made
our white land into red.
They play with our blood.
– Sonam Thakchoe, Class 9
Importance of Human Rights
Without food and water
we're still happy with mothers.
Without wearing any clothes,
we're still happy under love and care.
Without earning any money,
we're still happy getting family's help.
Without any money in pocket,
we're still happy with human rights.
Without human rights,
it is worse in this world.
Without human rights,
we're treated like animals.
– Kalsang Ladoe, Class 11, Age 17
Stone, Snow, and a River
I saw them on my way from Tibet to Nepal,
that time I was so small.
On the first half of the journey,
we reached a strange place where
we cannot hear a thing
but the torrent sound of a waterfall.
Beside the waterfall, a huge stone blocked our way.
It looks like a mountain covered with orchids,
its bottom thick with red and green algae.
When I asked my parents why
stones block our way, they replied
that stones were sent by God to earth.
They jumped this mountain stone
to the other side, but I shook--
how could I cross such a stone?
My father took me on his back
and we all gave hand-to-hand
to each other and passed this
dangerous difficulty.
A day later again we reached a place
which looked so plain and cold and wintry.
The snow fell like white rain.
All the directions covered with snow,
not a single black thing. I feel so sad
but still snow fall like ghosts.
Later the river without a bridge,
just a large tree across
slick with ice and we can find
no single seed of sand.
We take out our tsampa,
which is like sand,
and spread it on the tree.
We sacrificed our food.
The tree felt rough,
then we walked with full concentration.
Otherwise we would fall into the river.
We all joined a rope around our waists
and passed the most difficult journey.
I started to feel that God
could help us on our way.
And then I prayed for a long time
and then I turned away.
– Dawa,Class 9, Age 16
When I was Departed from Her
When I was ten my parents
went to the market for my new clothes
and led me in the dark
to the monastery to pray
and then I departed from my beloved mother.
When the Chinese were asleep
I and some others walked like cats.
I left my beloved parents,
my home and school.
When the sun rose,
we rested until dark
and then we went marching,
marching like ants.
When I heard the cockoo-cockoo
we were in a thick forest.
I left my beloved school, my friends,
my town of Lhasa.
In the daytime we rested. Other slept,
but I never did.
At night, we walked like thieves on dry leaves
and finally arrived in India,
my second motherland.
I left everything.
When I look at my mother's picture,
I remember everything.
– Jigme, Class 9, Age 15
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