An American buddy of mine,
Journeyed to the Land of Snow.
He drank a mouthful of melted snow
And brought me some Tsampa.
Every time I taste a mouthful of it,
I’m reminded of my fertile homeland.
The blond French friend of mine
Travelled to the roof of the world.
She bowed her head at Mount Kailash
And bought me back some cheese.
Every time I eat a piece a piece
I miss the gentleness of Yak and Dri.
An English friend of mine,
Departed to explore the land of snow
She visited my ageing parents
And returned with their warn affection
My heart still trembles with love for them.
A Danish friend of mine,
Set off to seek the truth of the snow land.
She met and mingled with of snow land’s youth
And returned with their secret.
Every time I hear it
My heart belong to them again.
These friends can visit the land of snow
Whereas I am forbidden to go there.
Returning is a remote possibility
A hope too hopeless to be expressed
I take deep breaths to soothe my heart.
But my heart is still yearns to walk the land of snow.
How can the youth of Tibet walk the land of snow
Without hearing the beating of my aching heart
My heart is melting like the snow
But this can not bring me closer home.
Neither would it do me any good.
To resolve to return there freely.
by Palden Gyal (journaliste et poète tibétain)