The Songs of Himalayas

 Za Thinley (Loyola)

                           

One silent deafening night of my little town

No beams ever from holy heaven came down

Mists and fogs covering the Snow Mountains

Within my heart painting a painful fountains

Stars rose yet I never felt the bright eyes

As my vision fall away a thousand miles

Leaving behind all dear and near, sank in pain

Crossing the borders paved by bullets and chain.

Twisting and turning amidst the storming

Chasing the dreams of victorious returning

The only and final hope I held high

Fleeing through Himalayas’ rocky high

Thought and feelings sank beneath tears

When the danger lurked upon my fear

If the road to Tibet lost “then I”

Won’t mourn as the death comes by

But the only fear not all of fetters

When the pledge conjured what matters

When the maze of hurdles in dread

Pushed me on the circuits of thread

Could I fear or favor to turn back?

“Obviously YES” but my heavy sack

Let me never shatter the hopeful dream

But parade forward as a weariless stream

Knocking on Himalayas’ hellish door

Of the mighty mountains’ icy floor     

Huddling in hug beneath snow fringed sill

Where my conscience gone dead and still

Losing temper without pause to ponder

My frozen spirit cried in a voice of thunder

But the stillness answered never my cry

Nor did solace even by the blind blue sky

Dancing avalanche the churning snack of valley zoo

Hissing, “fear not my child or sinking grief too”

Cracking roar of path ice the iron on a stone

Singing a mournful Saga of our brothers gone

Though the truth turned blind to your fall

And even justice has gone deaf to your call

Your brothers had gone and sisters lost

While millions of lives their struggle cost

Yes, I won’t hide or mourn lest of death

But voyage on “for the right of our birth”

I said to the song “the grip of reality”

Whose death is naught but a silent brutality

Truth conjures me to resist, if resistant I can

If I should die here, let me go as a man

Justice may not hold the falsehood fallacy

And our truth deserves never a genocidal policy

Thank heaven; the hellish trail is over at last

But beyond the Himalayas I became desert vast

Crushed and scattered but unscathed by the gale

Chasing the dream a pleasant fire my soul to regale

Tibet of my dream the holiest of holy lap my lot

As all dream one as the wide world a vast spot

Even our fall world well seen yet none act well

Our faiths in humanity fall never rising from hell.