Monday, January 29, 2007


FREEDOM ! What is it?
Eagle in the cage was asked.
Preplexed,its beaks worn out from nibbling on the steel bars,
flapping in desperation wings shed the feathers.
' Freedom' it said.' when I stretch my wings,
feel the wind
And glide for miles over the mountains,ridges and rivers.
I declare the sky as my conquest and from above
I could watch the world goes by.

Sheltering in the concrete den,lion in the zoo.
Limps as it walks and licks the wound.
Tired of been taunted.Said, ' Freedom is when I could
run on the open vastness of the plain,drink from the steam
to quench my thirst.
Silence descends when I roar; I am the King of the jungle'.

Far in the corner of the prison wall, handcuffed,legs shackled,
dressed in tattar prison uniform, laid a political prisoner.
He smiled but weakly and said in bearly audible voice,' Freedom is
when I could be with my family without being seperated, walk
the street of Lhasa without being detained, express my view
without being prosecuted, protest without being labeled as 'Dalai Clique'

And freedom is when I could shout BHOGYALO!!!!*
without being locked up for years and years.

* Victory for Tibet.


Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Only if you have......

I was told,
deities reside there on the mountain passes.
The poles draped in prayer flags,
stones piled up high as offerings and
the rock faces craved in holy mantras, symbolised
their abodes.
Wind swept in with high velocity,sending the flags flapping.
Thus, spreading the message of love and compassion
across the universe.

O!!! gods of the mountains, rulers of the passes
and the dwellers of the ranges.
I shall not appease you, for I not belong to the passing caravan.
Nor shall I prostate and count beads on my rosary,
For I don't rely on you for a safe journey.
But, shall scribble a complaint, for you have always received and taken.
Yet in the hours of need your whole existence seems void and hollow.

Intruder sneaked in and unleashed nothing, but reign of terror
and destruction.
Corpses of the occupants littered the street,
only for the scavengers to feast upon
And theirs fagile call for help fainted into the emptiness of the space.

I could have been home by now, where ground beneath my feets
knows me well and
asks,' I can feel you,are you home son? '
Only if you have commanded those fluttering fabrics to
Alarm the world,
Reveal the truth and
Bring justice to my helpless people,

Only if you have commanded those fluttering fabrics....


Friday, July 07, 2006

Cherish the moment

London rocks and rolls far into the distance
as I stand,sit and stare from the Alexandra Palace in
my perfect sense.

Wondering how many souls have come and gone
and wondering how many battles had been fought in insanity
on this very land,where I now walk,talk and chase my dreams like
millions others.

My journey to work starts by bus and ends by bus
because I love the fact that my other car is a bus; different faces
speak in different tongues like continental dishes on display.
Hussle and bussle of modern life,hardly got time for yourself.
and within the circle of Monday to Friday you spin and you spin hard.
Yet, when the leaves fall and the darkness looms in the afternoon,
you complain," winter has arrived again"
Gloomy,drizzle,gale force,cloud hangs above constantly
and the mist from your own breath blurs the view from the window.
Depression sets on and mood swings like a woman having period.

And that's the moment when we wait, we wait anxiously for
the spring to approach drape in drafadels.Flowers bloom,bees bum
and the birds nestling.The sun streches long into the evening and
we celebrate the freedom,the freedom from the winter by playing in the park,
drink beer in the sun and the girls show off their curves: sun bathing,
Ice cream vendor get busier.
So, cherish the moment,
enjoy it before the Autume sets in and snatches everything away.


Sunday, May 14, 2006


I am a rider,
Riding the memories whittle within myself.
Storms and gales I have struggled through.
Yet, the distance remains as long as ever before.

I sense the fragrance lingering in the monsoon rain
And have shed tears over my past.
Like the eagles in the wilderness I have spoken to the mountains, in your memories.
But, only to be found m..y..s..e..l..f echoing.

Into the dept of my soul you have sneaked and smiled
And have declared it as your conquest.
Yet when the sun retreats you are gone,
like the shadow that promise to be the flower on the tomb.

Such unjust and selfish of you have
shattered me and surrounded darkness
While my path remain hidden from me
And with no star to guide and no goal to achieve
I am wandering, wandering in the open world.

Ngawang Dhargyal
Copyright ©2006 Ngawang Dhargyal

A man and his tree

Watching you is what I do each morning
like a sailor scanning the horizon
Before setting off.
You wave and shuffle in the spring wind,
Full of joy and milking the moments,
Pregnant with grace and drizzling with beauty,
You stand there in the field.

My window, my only passage to you
Yet connection click, set me dreaming
And the bond establish.

Summer sun showers you with the warmth.
But when the autumn comes you change,
Wither off your leaves to be swayed in the winter rain and snow.
Yet you are there
Before my eyes firmly holding your ground beneath.

Copyright ©2006 Ngawang Dhargyal

Chains of poetry

In your memory
I took to the mountains,
again and again I have comtemplated on it.
And now I have realised the nature of my love for you.

Unending chains of poetry is
what my heart is releasing.


Thursday, February 23, 2006


I shout,
you shout and we all shout.
In front of Chinese Embassy we shout!!

With flags and banners, we shout.
Along the street until Portland place vibrates we shout.

Wind pricks and rain soaks
but we stand and shout.
And we shout and we will shout
Until we are home, we will shout," Free Tibet "


Saturday, February 18, 2006

Love across the border

She is calling, she is calling my name
from far across the barbwire and
from the snowland, she is calling; such pain and agony
I can imagine.
For her wail so fatigue with the broken dreams.

Rivers of highland so full, and the scripts on those leaves
glittering from the swallow water, I know those are from my sweetheart.

Behind the mountains of Himalaya she is alone and
here I am in the foreign land alonging for her
praying and wishing someday rivers would cascade upwards then
I too can say how much I love her " Across the border "


Another Flame

Another flame of blood
and another flame of flesh
casted a shadow on the world to prove Tibet was independent.

Another man got killed
and another monk got shot by the guards
on the border while they crawled for freedom.

Another woman was dragged aside
and another nun was raped inside the prison by the police.
While the wall reflected her scream.

Another child got frostbite
and another kid became handicap while
crossing the frozen mountain pass.

Another year has faded
and another decade is passing by
while we are gradually vanishing
with another, with another and with another.