I was a shepherd
Slinging small Tsamkhuk around the waist
Banding sling shot around the shoulder
Tuning whistles, directing pals:
So obedient they are
Otherwise if I command with sling shot.
Mesmerizing her fluting voice
Echoing by passing the rocky terrains
As it was traveling by herself
So jolly I used to be; Small world,
With companions in vales and hills
Like pasted in beauties to ranges
It was my homeland
Westerners call it paradise
Middles easterners never heard it
Easterners are drying up
China stamped "treasure house"
Stationed on its mighty grandeur
Severity is buttoned alarming
She is Tibet!
A yellow haired marked his corridor
With his monopolistic statehood
He was an ambassador
And asked "you from?"
I resolutely claimed "Tibet"
And said "not in my list"
"Check stateless" I implored
Tightening his wrinkles
Coined "You are Indian by passport"
"No, identity card" and explained "Foreigner from stateless"
And asked “prove your stateless state"
"Here you go sir" I showed the yellow document again
Then he expounded "you're stateless without stateless identity"
I said "No. Foreign guest ...Tibet"
But "Uncle Nehru finished his ink while listing Tibet in his world history and China had good trade"
I was talking to an Indian ambassador