TYC Yellow Guards

When the world locked down
With an alarm of Chinese Virus,
You see them on the ground
leaving their life at risk,

Here and, there the yellow guard
Guarding the gates and Graves
fighting at the Frontline
With white gloves and Yellow suits

Here comes the Yellow Guard
with an unclaimed corpse
and there goes the Yellow Guard
with cremains, if claimed somehow,

Here comes the Yellow Guard
with a truck full of food
and there goes the Yellow Guard
with a street full of smiles

Call them the Yellow Guard
Or the Frontline Warriors
They were the wonder volunteers
securing the safety of all cities

Here comes the Yellow Guard
At any calls at no cost
and there goes the Yellow Guard
with the whole city sanitized,

Here and, there the Yellow Guard
With an oxygen cylinder on their bike
and mask boxes on their back
Only to save the sicked city

Here and, there the Yellow Guard
All in one for All
Waging a war against the Virus
With a weapon of Volunteer badge

By Sonsnow

Note: The Tibetan Youth Congress (TYC) is a worldwide Organisation of Tibetans united in our common struggle for the restoration of complete independence for the whole of Tibet. Tibetan Youth Congress and its regional chapters have been engaging with social services work throughout this global pandemic. The social service activities TYC engages with are setting up quarantine centers, providing medical devices, sanitization drives, cremation, distribution of ratios to the poor and destitute, and providing assistance to the old and sick in this time of great need.

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not
I am the descendent of deadly warriors
Who long before bowed before no one
And held their head high at their death

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I am the descendent of kings and Warriors
Who ruled half of the world not long before
With the wise men’s wisdom from the back
And the mighty forces from the front.

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I am the guardian of the murdered men’s last word
And the voice of the voiceless prisoners
who are silenced under the censorship
and suppressed under the dictatorship.

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I am the son of snow-land
who owns the ornamental Everest mountains
And the long-running rivers and rivulet
That feeds freshwater to the rest of Asia.

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I am the holder of the height of Buddha Dharma
Who can explain the emptiness and impermanence,
That can feed the heart and mind of the Mankind
Amidst the madness of the materialist world

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I am an unarmed army
who was exiled not long before,
For pointing little long fingers for freedom
And for twisting my little lengthy tongue for truth

Ask me not if I can surrender to the CCP
I am not, and I can not,
I have Truth and Justice
The weapon of weak and strong
With which I have to be victorious
for the Justice to prevail amongst us.

By Sonsnow

*CCP: Chinese Communist Party

While the virtual world is giving me a great view of big buildings and the sky touching towers of the west,
I so often dream of the dusty and rusty courtyard of my birthplace.

While the virtual world is portraying me the beauty of love and luxury life of the west,
I so often dream dancing on the hometown grassland with a highland lass.

While the virtual world is entertaining my eyes with the wonders of the west,
I so often dream of wandering in the wilderness of windy and snowy heavenly homeland.

While the virtual world from south to north and from east to the west seems to suits my interest,
I so often dream of the duty I was born to handle and bound to be at my best.

By Sonsnow

COVID-19

What if the COVID-19 wasn’t made in China?
The world must have found its cure already,
The world must have not faced this much mess,
We would have not been panicking to this point.

What if the Wuhan city wasn’t under CCP?
Wuhan must have warned the world long time back,
And it must have controlled the virus in its own vicinity,
The world must have not lost many lives.

What if the whistleblower doctor wasn’t accused of spreading rumors?
He must have saved the lives of many,
The world must have not fallen in its current chaos,
We would have been following our regular rituals and schemes.

What if the Virus isn’t as threatening as CCP?
We must have not locked ourselves in the rat-sized room,
We must have full-fledged freedom to roam here and there,
Enjoying breathing the fresh air in and out,

What if the CCP virus wasn’t spread far and wide,
We would have our usual sunny Sunday,
Walking up and down for our regular walks,
Choosing the colors of our choice from the hustle-bustle bazaars.

By Sonsnow

*CCP=Chinese Communist Party

When I die,
Bury me not under the burials of bricks
Burn me not with bushes and twigs
Offer my organs to those in needs
And save some for future seeds

When I die,
Do no regular rituals and rights
Do no crying and crawling at my sights
Just do good to the people I care
And do spread the smiles I share

When I die,
Wash me not with your tears
And wait for me not with cheers
I will set myself free to fly
to the land, I long to die

When I die,
Do let me die in peace
With wide-open mouth in cheese
Leave no works undone anywhere
And leave no room for regrets somewhere

By Sonsnow

When Xi and Modi meet to meet their national interest
When both leaders shared each other a strategic smiles
I couldn’t stop thinking about the outcry of our arrested activists
I couldn’t stop thinking about the signatures the students are forced to sign.

When communist China continues to control Tibet,
When the CCP continues to be oppressive and aggressive against Tibetans,
I couldn’t stop standing in solidarity and unity with my countrymen
I couldn’t stop speaking out the truth about tragedies behind the bars

When the freedom fighters raise their fist high and low
When activists outcry their agony against the enemy
I held my head high to the height of my forefather’s spirit
I held my heart out to speak up for those who are silenced

When the Dhauladhar range covered and capped with snowflakes,
When the cold winter winds waved and washed by my side,
I can feel the freshness of a far distance homeland
I can feel the warmth of a home hiding behind those Himalayas

By: Sonsnow

If Tibet remained Independent

The grasses must have grown greener
Trees must haven’t turned into timbers
The mountains must have not been mined
Rivers must be running in its natural flow
Rivulet must have been cooler and cleaner
The monks and monasteries must have been in peace
Their prayers must have been a little louder
Their voice must have not been in hoarseness
The Potala palace must have held its height little higher
Bakor street must have its own essence
The song of the sixth Dalai Lama must be singing on the street
The son of snow land must not have been singing his song in silent
He must not have been running and roaming for freedom
He must be having his loved ones by his side

By: Sonsnow

Home?
Ask me not 
It hurts me so often 
It’s not either a place or space 
Where I sleep
Not at all a street or school
Where I walk 
It’s there
Where my heart hovers and hovers 
Until its get hurt
It’s there 
Where I sleep so sound 
As if  I have no tomorrow 
It’s there 
Where I walk and talk 
As if I own every piece of land 
It’s there 
Only there in my dream
And I dream so often

By Sonsnow

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every booms and blow
Baby cries here
And mother Crawls there
With aches all over their body

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every bombing and blasting
Temples demolished there
And houses destroyed here
With ashes all over the sky

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every bombs and bullet
Bodies bleeding there
And blood running here
With Smells all around the ground

It was a strange year
But that year
There were a lot of strange Days
After every greeting and Grinning
Dragon dances there
And Lion laughs here
With politics, all over the world

By: Sonsnow

I hear voices from a far distance
Through the holes of high standing Himalayas
Through the cracks of charming Chinese walls
Through the murky river rushing down to us,

I hear voices from a far distance
From the small cells of squirrel size
From the dark rooms of rat holes
From the long lines of concentration camps,

I hear voices from a far distance
A woman wailing, for her dear husband
A child calling for her father figure
A monk murmuring for his murdered Lama

I hear voices from a far distance
When men in uniform are at distant
When the communist curtains are wide open
When guards at the gate are gone

I hear voices from a far distance
For the land they lost long ago
For the siblings they separated so long
For the freedom they lost long ago

By Sonsnow