My Native Land

My Native Land

By Marjang Nyuk*

Translated from Tibetan by Bhuchung D. Sonam

­My native land is written in a drop of tears

Printed with a drop of blood.

My native land is made of a single drip of sweat.

Many centuries ago

From atop the high plateau

Amongst people of many nations

In the splendour of its glories

My country stood tall with pride and confidence

‘I am a man!’ it is said to have declared.
In those times -

There were none who did not know

Its warriors and their reputation.
There were none who did not see the snow lion flag

Flying in the wind by the Potala Palace.

Today …

My native land is

A pool of tears flowing from every crying eye

A drop of blood untouched by happiness.

At a far corner of this world

Its freedom is being beheaded

At a low rank of this world

Its rights are peeled off one by one.

My native land is stripped bare

Turned limbless.

Why?
Why?

དུར་ས་འཚོལ་བ།   སྨར་ལྗང་སྨྱུག་གིས་བརྩམས།
In Search of a Grave by Marjang Nyuk

* Marjang Nyuk is a pseudonym of a young Tibetan intellectual living in the occupied Tibet. 

'We must fight for our freedom. It cannot be attained by begging or through petitions,' he writes.

In Search of a Grave was published by Dharamsala-based Tibetan Centre for Human Rights & Democracy and is available for free at the TCHRD.