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
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.
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.
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
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
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