Writer and singer Jamyang Kyi, a vocal advocate of Tibetan women’s rights, was detained from 1 April to 20 May 2008, during which time she was tortured. After her release she wrote an account of her detention entitled “A Succession of Torture” and “They”, on her Tibetan blog. (The blog has been shut down). Her writings since May 2008 include moving letters to her friend Norzin Wangmo, who is currently serving a 5-year prison sentence.
They constantly tried to use various methods to make me betray others. During that time, one scene from “The Lives of Others” occurred to me from time to time. The woman in the film, after endlessly suffering unimaginable degrees of intimidation and atrocity, loses herself and turns her back on her beloved man. When the man stares at her with a sense of disbelief, unable to bear her feelings, she runs onto the road in front of an oncoming vehicle. There, she ends her blooming beauty and precious life. Though it has been over two years since I saw the film, I cannot forget the depth of frustration in the man’s stare and the aggrieved look on the woman’s face. Today, these images from the film appear even more real in my mind.
My heart cracked like a dried out riverbank with feelings of sadness, hopelessness, frustration and anger. And I longed for the moisture of light rain. One evening when I was tied to that chair again, I heard the sound of religious songs of a melancholic nature. I realized that this was the first time I was hearing the sound of a living being. This was soothing medicine for my bleeding heart. Since then, I began paying attention to this prayer-tune and awaiting it with hope each day. At that mosque, the devout practitioner prayed 4 to 5 times every day. Normally that prayer-tune could have been perceived as being unpleasant but during those days, it became the best medicine to revive my spirit. For that, I’m deeply grateful to the Mosque and practitioner. If ever a day comes for me to get out, I swore to myself that I would pay a visit to the mosque. Even today, that wish hasn’t disappeared from my heart.
In a magazine there is an oil painting of a landscape that I have looked at countless times. In the painting there is a lone cottage of European style that stands by the lake. That was the only home in the wide hilly grassland. It affforded me a sense of tranquility and peace. Imagining that house to be my own family home, I began to visualize my two daughters playing chase in the grassy meadow near the house; my husband cutting grass beside the lake and I myself, busily cooking dinner awaiting the return of the cattle. That, too, became a means to console and revive my shattered spirit.
One day, as soon as the protests first began, my husband said with a sigh, “Those who have died are already gone. But those who have been arrested are certain to be cast into the eighteen realms of hell and bound to suffer immeasurably.” On the other hand, empathizing with those who had died and their bereaved and loved ones, I was deeply touched and moved to endless tears of sympathy. And at the time, I could not fully comprehend the implications of the incident in which three Tibetans had leapt to their death from a house top.
Each interrogation session aroused a different kind of fear in me. One day in the middle of an interrogation, I thought instead of enduring this, it would be better to be killed by a single bullet. My family and relatives would grieve but as for me, I would have to suffer the pain only once. One day when I was in the washroom, out of nowhere, I found myself thinking about the means or methods of taking my own life. Those days I remembered the small knife that was confiscated at Zhihu Hotel. They hadn’t seen another small knife that was in my handbag during the search. When the chief interrogator asked why I kept a small knife, I replied that it was for eating fruit. But on the other hand there is a small story about this small knife.
Ever since the Chinese-Tibetan conflict had flared up, and as result of the government’s deliberate propaganda, the Chinese would stare at Tibetans with hatred, whether it be in a bus, the market place or on any public road. Once, when I was walking down the road with my daughter who was wearing the traditional chuba that my friend Walza Norzin Wangmo had bought her as a gift, a Chinese kid of about six or seven years old came yelling in front of my daughter and stood blocking her way. This kind of Chinese attitude wasn’t an isolated incident that we experienced but rather the common experience of other Tibetans too. So, for self-defence I had bought another small knife. Later, on reflection, I felt relief that I hadn’t had the chance to get hold of those two knives. Otherwise, during an interrogation session, under unbearable torture, I frantically searched my pouch and then stared at the blue veins of my left wrist. Were I to get hold of the knife then, I would surely have cut the veins of my wrist.
During those days, Wang Lixong’s essay on the stages of suicide came to mind from time to time. And it was a completely different feeling from when I had first read it. I realized for the first time how difficult and harsh it is to betray and deceive someone. I felt that I could understand him now that I could understand it myself.
During those days when I was thrown in front of the six gates of hell, the person I thought of most was my kind and dear mother. Although it has been nearly three years since she passed away, she is very much alive in my heart. What is comforting is the realization that my dear mother has already left me. Otherwise, if she were alive and to witness my incarceration in prison, I know she would go insane.
At the height of unbearable torture, usually I invoked the name of my mother and Goddess Tara for protection. One afternoon when I was tied to a stool, everyone left for lunch except for one female secret police officer. For many days, I had suppressed my tears of suffering silently. But at that moment of weakness, I could not bear it any longer and cried out “Mother, Mother”. The longing for my mother grew more intense and the suffering worsened, and I sobbed. As I was sobbing with pain, all my limbs went numb. At that time the fat man came and said, “You’re crying intentionally because you know I’m here.” Pressing his finger to my forehead, he warned, “If you continue to wail, I will stop this interrogation.”
Shouting in a loud voice, “Are you this stubborn because you think we are making a false accusations?” he left the room. Although it was not something that I was doing, being aware of his presence there, I still couldn’t stop crying. At the time, the nerves in both my hands turned stiff and I could unclench my fist when I tried to force them open. A long time passed sobbing, with my entire body drenched in sweat…
The so-called “Drapchi 14” were a group of nuns who recorded a series of freedom songs whilst detained together in Drapchi prison in June 1993. These young nuns, all of whom had been imprisoned for taking part in peaceful demonstrations calling for Tibetan independence, secretly recorded songs on a tape recorder smuggled into their prison cell. A cassette tape was smuggled out of the prison and copies circulated around the world. The nuns’ prison sentences were extended by between five and nine years for making these recordings.
Ngawang Sangdrol, the youngest of them told Free Tibet: “We recorded the songs because we wanted our families to know that we were still alive, and we wanted Tibetan people to know about our situation and our love for our country. We hoped it would reach our families, but we didn’t know for sure. I had no idea until I arrived in America that people all over the world heard those songs while we were still in prison. Now, it makes me feel so sad to listen to the recording, because I remember our friends in prison who died.”
Vigorous international campaigns led to the early release of a number of this group of nuns although one, 28-year-old Ngawang Lochoe, died in Drapchi prison on 5 February 2001, just one year prior to completion of her 10-year prison sentence. In 2006 the release of Phuntsog Nyidrol, after 15 years in prison, brought to an end the detention of the “singing nuns”; of the surviving 13 nuns, seven are now in exile (Palden Choedron escaped Tibet very recently and arrived in India on 1 September 2010) and the remaining six are still in Tibet. The exiled former prisoners have traveled the world, speaking about their experiences and encouraging individuals and political leaders alike to act in support of the people of Tibet.
A CD of the music recorded by the Drapchi 14 “Seeing Nothing But the Sky” is available from Free Tibet, www.freetibet.org.
Land of snows, land of snows
My beloved country.
Religious and political freedom are the source of our happiness.
The Red Chinese have separated us from our root guru.
The Buddhas who dwell in the ten directions
Please witness the suffering of the Tibetan people.
We have to bear cruelty and violence
Which has filled our land with tears and blood.
The Buddhas who dwell in the ten directions
Please protect our mournful words of truth
Tenzin Gyatso, the heart and soul of our country
Is my root Lama, the wish-fulfilling jewel.
When all Tibetans, in Tibet and in exile, unite
The sun will emerge from behind the clouds.
We’ve sung a song of sadness
We’ve sung it from Drapchi prison
Like the happy and joyful snow mountains
We’ve sung this song for the sake of freedom
Previously, a spiritual realm of dharma
Now, is changed to a barbaric prison ground.
Even at the cost of our lives, we Tibetans,
Will never lose our courage.
O, what a sad fate we Tibetans have!
To be tortured mercilessly by barbarians
We don’t have freedom
Under the yoke of these barbarians
[Translation: Free Tibet http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/drapchi-14]
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Woeser is a Beijing-based Tibetan poet and writer who is under watch by the authorities because of the critical content of her Chinese-language blog http://woeser.middle-way.net/. Many translations of Woeser’s writing can be read on the blog High Peaks Pure Earth and collections of her poetry, along with more biographical details, are available on the website Ragged Banner. The following poem was written after a short visit to Lhasa (where Woeser was born), weeks after the 2008 uprisings began.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa,
Where the fear is greater than all the fear after ’59, ’69, and ’89 put together.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa,
Where the fear is in your breathing, in the beating of your heart,
In the silence when you want to speak but don’t,
In the catch in your throat.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa,
Where constant fear has been wrought by legions with their guns,
By countless police with their guns,
By plainclothesmen beyond counting,
And still more by the colossal machinery of the State that stands behind them night and day;
But you mustn’t point a camera at them or you’ll get a gun pointed at you,
maybe hauled off into some corner and no one will know.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa,
Where the fear starts at the Potala and strengthens as you go east, through the Tibetans’ quarter.
Dreadful footsteps reverberate all round, but in daylight you won’t glimpse even their shadow;
They are like demons invisible by day, but the horror is worse, it could drive you mad.
A few times I have passed them and the cold weapons in their hands.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa,
Where the fear is now minutely scanned by the cameras that stud avenues and alleys and offices,
and every monastery and temple hall;
All those cameras,
Taking it all in,
Swiveling from the outer world to peer inside your mind.
“Zap zap jé! º They’re watching us” — among Tibetans this has become a byword, furtively whispered.
A hurried farewell to Lhasa:
The fear in Lhasa breaks my heart. Got to write it down.
August 23, 2008
On the road out of Lhasa
Zap zap jé (Tibetan): “I beg you, be careful.” These days, a very common expression among Tibetans.
[I was in Lhasa from August 17 to August 23, my shortest stay ever, and I had no choice about leaving . . . these words were to remember it by.
And there’s something I want to say: You have the guns? I have a pen.]
[Translation: Ragged Banner Press at http://raggedbanner.com/pTFIL.html]
Kunga Tseyang (Gangnyi “Sun of Snowland”) ཀུན་དགའ་ཚངས་དབྱངས། ༼གངས་ཉི།༽
Kunga Tseyang is a popular writer, blogger and photographer who is passionate about the environment. He was taken by police from Labrang monastery in Gansu province on 17 March 2009 and was sentenced to five years in December 2009. Kunga Tseyang, who is a monk, is thought to have been detained as a result of his essays on a website named “Jottings” or “Rough Notes” (Tib: Zin-dris).
Information dissemination is the most important tool in carrying out any kind of action or campaign. However, if one’s ways of spreading information crosses the standard norms then that campaign is bound to become a meaningless stammer of a drunken man.
This year the peaceful Tibetan protesters were infiltrated and were misled to a wrong path. The China Television, Lhasa TV and others, while ignoring the truth, have excessively branded all Tibetans as separatists. This has caused an incurable communal injury between the Chinese brothers and sisters, and Tibetans leading to Chinese disliking the Tibetans and Tibetans holding animosity towards the Chinese. I, as a person, am forced to accept the fact that this was the biggest factor caused split among the nationalities.
Tibetans are driven to a desperate position because of them being accused of doing things, which they never did, and small incidents were exaggerated and paraded before the world. Even Tibetans who worked for the party for over two to three decades were accused and the Chinese news media, the experts that they are in fabricating lies, went to schools and universities where there are only a handful of Tibetan students to accuse them and to witch hunt them. Such excessive misinformation and wrongful acts have caused a huge chasm and disturbance in the minds of Tibetan officials and students who have absolute love for Chinese brothers and sisters and liking for the Communist Party of China. This has left a feeling of ‘racial hatred’ in their minds. This is the negative consequence of their incompetent reporting.
Under these circumstances our freedom of movements are restricted by roadblocks, checkpoints and ever-present military personals with guns pointed at us. I must strongly assert that confiscating the photographs of our beloved leader His Holiness the Dalai Lama, by burning them, and stamping them under the soldiers’ boots are the real causes of splitting the people. Detention of Tibetans for possessing His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s photographs, disparaging them for putting His Holiness’ pictures on their altars are the real causes of split amongst the nationalities. Unless you [the Chinese Government] are able to break our love and respect in our hearts, all your fruitless campaigns and activities will only strengthen our unity and love for one Tibetan brother to another.
I have always believed that soldiers are heroes protecting national security, building harmony amongst people and helping economic developments. However, this year all these proved wrong because of their biased actions, killing of innocent people, their plundering and ransacking of properties and shops, their expertise in suppressing dissents and their lawless marauding style. I state this based on facts and the actual events as it happened in Ngapa regions of Amdo and Kanlho regions [in Eastern Tibet.] If these things happened because of a few military officers and officials in local administration, then I can strongly say that you are the real agents splitting the nationalities.
Moreover, people at the local Public Security Bureaus, military and regional Communist Party cadres piled a large amount of fabricated, negative information and petitions in front of the Central Government in order to obtain huge sums of money to fund their so-called victories against protests and to continue their suppressive actions. How are these actions not meant to split the nationalities? A series of large-scale policy mistakes were made because the local level cadres were busy trying to please their bosses in the higher levels.
Why is the Communist Party of China silent like a man with one eye closed and ears gone deaf in face of such unlimited actions carried out to harm the unity of the nation and stability of the country? Lamas may make mistakes, leaders may make mistakes and the government too can make mistakes. But the time has come for those people responsible for causing harms and disunity be paraded before the public and be made answerable for their mistakes. If this can be done, we will still have some faith in improving our relationship with other nationalities and to build a harmonious society.
An image is built in the minds of both the Chinese people and Tibetan brothers and sisters of the other side as someone who is to be scared of and to have hatred towards each other. We ask: Why must they beat and torture our brothers and sisters this way? And by lying and fabricating wrong views, we have come to a state where even a Tibetan truck driver is scorned. The general impression being created is that of Tibetans as people who are not even worth to look at.
When we talk in more general terms, Tibetan and Chinese people have a long tradition of helping each other and have deep mutual respect and admiration. However, the portrayal of Tibetans in Chinese official media this year has left an image of Tibetans as enemies. Has this become a factor that would improve harmony or has it become a cause for its destruction? This is an issue that the leaders must think about; this is an issue that is worth thinking about because the harmony of the nation will be build on this foundation by taking positives actions on it. This is something that is never too late to pursue.
Gade Tsering is a prolific poet from Amdo, who writes in Tibetan and Chinese. He is very popular amongst Tibetan netizens and has previously also received official recognition for his work, including “National Top 10 Minority Poet” and “2006 Northwest Outstanding Poet”. Gade Tsering”s Chinese language blog (http://blog.sina.com.cn/gadaicairang) is one of the most read, not only among Tibetan readers, but it is also popular among Chinese readers.
Because I’m Tibetan, every time I salute Mother Nature in awe:
The snow-covered mountains, the grasslands, the azure sky and the lakes,
I cannot help but throw my bloated body into her bosom. Because I know
She never rejects those who she loves.
Did you know?
“It was here my fellows had been imprisoned;
It was here the Defender of Faith of Chushi Gangdruk had been defeated.
It is here the smoke of the burning branches of mulberry trees swirl,
And the sound of spiral shell horns can be heard,
The roofs are flanked with coloured Sutra banners;
It is here, the chest of the plateau, my home,
Tibet!”
—Preface
0,
In the early morning I offer a bowl of purified water to Buddha,
I will no longer ask for more: the existence of Tibet,
Which has completed my life and repelled my fear of loss.
It is here I have encountered you
As well as all living things.
It is here I have experienced the feeling of love,
As well as the feeling of being loved.
Because I am a Tibetan,
I always firmly believe in history,
Always firmly believe
In the existence of sacred spirit.
1,
I hear different languages of different groups. In my mother tongue, crying;
Those from blacksmiths, farmers, hunters,
From prostitutes, businessmen, vendors
I already disdain the scenes I’m seeing;
Although sometimes I still sing the Song of Emancipated Serfs,
I can recognize a guy with the sissy tone in his dialect must be a Shandong guy,
I can recognize a chick in the ugly photographer’s vest is a Sichuan chick.
At this moment, I’m touching the damaged Buddha,
Wondering how it should be possible
That a month later all these people would gesture and speak in astonishment:
“Since Tibetans have religious beliefs, how can a Lama kill people?”
I think everything is dreadful for a reason.
Where else could we head for,
If the whole land is darkened by night?
2,
Because I’m a Tibetan, I have
A lot of memories:
“The monkey and the demoness
With the nature of getting along with Mother Nature in harmony,
And, the Tibet Empire and the Tibetan song of Gesar orally passed from generation to generation.
Because I’m a Tibetan,
I have been suffering from a life in misery;
Because I’m a Tibetan,
I have obtained enough comfort.
But it is in this autocratic winter
I composed this poem!
3,
“Her eyes and the wrinkles on her palms are Tibetan,
Her name, Tibetan,
Her dreams and sorrows, Tibetan,
Her belief, her legs and body, Tibetan,
Her language and her silence, Tibetan,
Her voice, Tibetan,
Her birth and death, Tibetan” [1]
4,
How wonderful it is
To dream of parents!
I deeply believe that at this moment
I’m no longer in sorrow.
In this snowy night,
I get up to light a butter lamp.
I decide to take the prayer beads off my waist
And pray to Buddha.
At this moment, the night seems so real and profound.
5,
Celestial burial is
Not frightening at all,
In my eyes;
Benighted,
In your eyes.
Because I’m a Tibetan,
I understand myself.
6,
This time the rejection is
Related to your identity.
I said,
The Tibetan knife I carry with me every day is
Not for killing other lives.
You always wonder if in this world there ever exists a place
“Speak Tibetan because you are a Tibetan,
Celebrate Losar because you are a Tibetan.”
In my mother tongue I answered,
“Life and death are separated from each other.
I said I carry a knife with me
Because I soberly know who I am
And I want to intimidate myself.
7,
There they came on a Saturday afternoon.
There they came, in buses appearing as armoured cars.
There they came, with buzzing saws, ropes and other equipment.
There they came, the seven workers.
There they came, the seven devils.
There they came, holding beer bottles like flowers, drunk.
There they came, in camouflaged green outfits.
With bright red faces,
in black leather shoes,
There they came… [2]
8,
I am Tibetan,
I want to worship my gods in awe.
I am Tibetan,
I want to partake in all my religious festivals.
I am a Buddhist and I
Won’t allow anyone to take away this
baptism of mine.
9,
How far must I go to arrive in the land of Tibet?
How far must I go to meet my parents?
How far must I go to wear Tibetan clothes?
Naked,
We are heading for Lhasa.
The festered feet as the proof,
That our bruised bodies and hearts are
Tibetan!
The garden is silent;
In the form of an eagle
Lhasa is flying.
Drawing near the thunder,
Comes soon the rain!
10,
Because we are Tibetan,
We are treated differently from other minorities:
Enduring aggravating discrimination, imprisonment, torture and death.
Because I am Tibetan,
I am no longer in fear of anything.
Still a courageous Buddhist,
I lit many lights before our honoured Gods
In memory of my dead brethren
Just as usual.
Speaking in my mother tongue, I deeply believe that
At this moment, I feel peaceful and blessed!
Because I am Tibetan, I often ask
Apart from in Tibet, where else could we find a piece of land of the exiled
with such rich poetic sentiments?
February 10, 2010.
Notes:
[1] An imitation of the poem “The Lover from Palestine” by the Arabian poet Mohamed Darwish
[2] An excerpt from “Saturday Morning” by the Iraqi poet Yusuf
[Translation: High Peaks Pure Earth – www.highpeakspureearth.com]
Mentally Return has become one of the most popular modern Tibetan songs. Sung by four of the best Tibetan singers, the song praises the natural beauty and bounty of Tibet and eulogizes the Tibetan people for their kindness and courage. Among these four singers, Kunga (Phuntsog) is one of the most famous young singers in Tibet. His song, ‘Sadness’ (nyi da kar sum ཡིད་རེ་སྐྱོ།) is probably the most well known Tibetan song of modern times, propelling Tibetan music to another level. Kunga’s songs are widely appreciated by Tibetans both for their melody and for their meaningful lyrics. Kunga’s teacher, Yadong, another of the four performers of “Mentally Return” has been singing Tibetan songs for a long time and is very popular. He sings both in Tibetan and Chinese, but amongst Tibetans he is probably best known known for his song, ‘Ama’ (Mother).
Its snow-capped mountains are the heavenly ramparts,
Its pure blue rivers are the shimmering ornaments of the sun and the moon.
Its vast meadows and pastures are the beds of the stars,
This holy land situated close to zenith of the sky,
This bountiful land on the roof of the world,
Are these are our fatherland, the Land of Snow!
Oh Great Mother, the land of Snow,
I’ve come for the cosy warmth of your loving care,
And today I sing a song in your lap.
Oh great Mother, the Land of Snow,
This is a song of auspiciousness taught by you.
This is a gift for having traversed across my fatherland!
The six migratory beings are our kind parents,
Non-violence and peace are our mental wealth,
Bravery, wisdom and heroism are the strength of our heart:
The nationality who inhabit this land of Snows,
The first people to settle here and exercise ownership,
Are us, the ruddy faced Tibetans of the Land of Snows.
Oh Tibetan brothers and sisters,
We’ve come missing your profound love and friendship,
Today, in your presence we dance in joy!
Oh Tibetan brother and sisters,
This is the circle dance of unity taught by you,
This is a gift to celebrate the reunion of brethrens.
Oh Tibetan brothers and sisters,
Oh Tibetan brothers and sisters,
This is the circle dance of unity taught by you,
This is a gift to celebrate the reunion of brethrens.
This is a gift to celebrate the reunion of brethrens.
This is a gift to celebrate the reunion of brethrens.
Ses montagnes enneigées pour célestes remparts,
Ses fleuves d’un bleu si pur, scintillantes parures du soleil et de la lune,
Ses vastes prairies et pâturages, berceaux des étoiles,
Cette divine contrée tutoyant le ciel à son zénith,
Cette terre généreuse sise sur le toit du monde,
C’est notre patrie, le Pays des neiges !
Ô Mère patrie, Pays des neiges,
Je suis le fruit de la douce chaleur de votre amour,
Et aujourd’hui je chante en votre sein.
Ô Mère patrie, Pays des neiges,
Voici le chant porte-bonheur appris de vous.
Un cadeau pour ce périple à travers ma patrie!
Les êtres aux six royaumes sont nos aimables parents,
Non-violence et paix, nos richesses morales,
Bravoure, sagesse et héroïsme: les forces de nos coeurs.
La nationalité qui habite ce Pays des neiges,
Le premier peuple à avoir fait siennes ces terres devenues son foyer,
C’est nous, les Tibétains du Pays des neiges et nos visages hauts en couleur.
Ô mes frères et soeurs tibétains,
Comme votre profond amour, votre amitié nous ont
manqué.
Mais ce jour, vous de retour, nous dansons de joie!
Ô mes frères et soeurs tibétains,
Voici la ronde de l’unité apprise de vous,
Un cadeau célébrant nos fraternelles retrouvailles.
Ô mes frères et soeurs tibétains,
Ô mes frères et soeurs tibétains,
Voici la ronde de l’unité apprise de vous,
Un cadeau célébrant nos fraternelles retrouvailles.
Un cadeau célébrant nos fraternelles retrouvailles.
Un cadeau célébrant nos fraternelles retrouvailles.
Dolma Kyab is a rising young singer from Amdo. He became very famous for the song, ‘Tibetans’ (or ‘People of the Land of Snow’ གངས་ཅན་པ།) several years ago, since which time he has worked with other Tibetan writers to produce a tremendously powerful album called, ‘Tsampa and Fatherland’. He explains that growing up in the grasslands of Tibet, hearing beautiful Tibetan music, led him to a career in Tibetan musical art. His songs evoke pride and love for Tibet and Tibetan culture.
The snow mountains,
The celestial presence on the ground
Whose dream was robbed and where?
What’s left behind?
Whose small shoes were withered by the wind?
[I] miss my own home land
Oh Snow Mountain
I laid eyes on you when I am born
I am stuck to you when I grow old.
Oh Home Land
The snow afar has turned into rain,
My eyes are filled with rain water
I dearly miss my loved ones
Oh how I wish for them to return.
The blue water of snow,
Flow tenderly across the land
Whose wish was robbed and where?
What’s left behind?
Whose base is tightened by freeze?
Whose neck (voice) was choked?
Oh Snow Water
I drank the snow water when I was born
I cherish you as I grow old
Oh Fatherland,
The snow afar has turned into rain,
My eyes are filled with rain water
I dearly miss my loved ones
Oh how I wish for them to return.
– Copy and paste the embed code below to your website. The size can be adjusted. Or get it directly from youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGKxn0uKhpU&
[Update: According to a report in the Tibet Times, Tashi Rabten was sentenced to 4 years’ imprisonment by Ngaba intermediate court on 2 June 2011.] A student at the Northwest Nationalities University in Lanzhou, Tashi Rabten was detained on 6 April 2010; he is the editor of a banned literary magazine on the 2008 protests in Tibet and author of ‘Written in Blood’ about which he wrote: “After an especially intense year of the usual soul-destroying events, something had to be said, and after pondering on whether to speak out, I finally produced this humble little book between 2008-09, shed like a drop of blood.”
The following poem, “Ruddy-faced People” was written after the protests of 2008.
Time is running out,
Lake Mapham’s waves remind [us] of our suffering.
Rise up, ruddy faced people!
Ancestor’s war-horse is trotting on the chest of this vast plateau,
ride it along the banks of the Yarlung [1] river
and if we gather on top of the Red Hill [2],
then we can work for our freedom, people of the Land of Snow.
History is filled with stories of bloodshed,
Machen mountain’s splendour reminds [us] of animosity.
Rise up, ruddy faced people!
Truth is searching for the soul of great ancestors,
it runs through the mountains and valleys of Tibet’s three provinces,
and if it enters the heart of black headed Tibetans,
then we can work for our freedom, people of the Land of Snow.
[1] Yarlung: the valley in central Tibet where Tibetan civilization is said to have first begun. Tibet’s first and only dynasty is the Yarlung dynasty.
[2] Red Hill: the hill on which the Potala Palace was built
Yudrug, translated into English as Green or Turquoise Dragon, is the name of a popular Tibetan band from Machu, eastern Tibet. Their most well-known track, ‘New Generation,’ was released in February 2010 as a gift to Tibetans – especially the younger generation – on the Tibetan Lunar New Year. A declaration of Tibetan pride, the song is uniquely Tibetan in spite of its foreign rhythm. The lyrics and the beat draw inspiration from contemporary Hip Hop culture, which originated as a protest tool for disenfranchised youth, especially African-American youth in the United States, to reflect on and critique the social, economic and political realities of their lives. [Profile by Students for a Free Tibet]
…for the hard-headed people out there
Lyrics: “Strong Willed”
Composition: Turquoise Dragon
Vocals: Turquoise Dragon and Blue Moon
The noise of vehicles has woken us
Among the crowded tall buildings
Our dreams and belongings have all been packed
See the polluted sky and know
We can’t afford to wait for tomorrow’s sunrise
Now wake up…
It’s already time to walk on the road
It’s time to walk, time to think
Our bare shoulders wet with sweat
Our long hair tangled by the wind
Our faith and lives are adorned by freedom
Our collective path is determined by individual choice
As much sweat as you shed
That much result shall you reap
So said our great forefathers
But our forefathers are long gone
We don’t have to keep quiet
The owner of karma has left me like a toy
With strength and talent I need to somehow respond
Even the old lady neighbour says I’m spoiled
With power and ability I’ll prove them all!
The new generation has a resource called youth
The new generation has a pride called confidence
The new generation has an appearance called playfulness
The new generation has a temptation called freedom
The new generation has a resource called youth
The new generation has a pride called confidence
The new generation has an appearance called playfulness
The new generation has a temptation called freedom
At one time I thought that love was everything
Then love turned me into nothing
A girl I loved so much
Has given me a very beautiful gift
Now I haven’t lost her
The dream of love has not been lost
Deceit and cunning!
In a society where people are deceived by money, fame and power
Will I ever find a meaningful love?
Will i ever find a definite pledge?
Who among us will?
We are caught up in our thoughts of pain and of mere fashion
We wrote our own darkness and we’re scared of living
We embody the pride of youth and search for future aspirations with full willpower
Search!
Search!
We are the new generation of today
As I achieved what I wanted to achieve
My dreams don’t waiver in the night
As I said what I wanted to say
I didn’t turn into a mute
I did it for me only!
As I achieved what I wanted to achieve
My dreams don’t waiver in the night
As I said what I wanted to say
I didn’t turn into a mute
I did it only to represent myself!
Get used to me!
I am the decadent breath of your uncontrollability
Get used to me!
I am under your limitless uncontrollable watch
Get used to me!
I am the manifestation of today and the substance of tomorrow
I am very light, in your imagination
I am very small, in your vegetable patch
Does your advanced theory wish to blow up my head?
Does your forced bullet wish to shoot through my heart?
I am just an old and damaged vehicle
The horse of time departed early morning
The small flame under your saddle
The blood and bodies frozen in the ice are bound to fade
We are the sharp wisdom that your speeches and lectures haven’t reached
We are the smooth darkness that your flame and power hasn’t absorbed
We are the response with playfulness that makes your heart ache
We are the infection and fright to your livelihood!
The new generation has a resource called youth
The new generation has a pride called confidence
The new generation has an appearance called playfulness
The new generation has a temptation called freedom
The new generation has a resource called youth
The new generation has a pride called confidence
The new generation has an appearance called playfulness
The new generation has a temptation called freedom
Our story has not ended here
It’s just the beginning
We never fall asleep but are awake forever
Get used to dreaming
Get used to unlawful damage and uprisings
Get used to this way of living
Get used to moving forward
Le bruit des véhicules nous a réveillé
Entre les hautes tours surpeuplées
Nos rêves et nos affaires ont été totalement confinés
Regarder ce ciel vicié en sachant
Que nous ne pouvons plus nous permettre d’attendre jusqu’au prochain lever du soleil
Dès maintenant réveillons-nous …
C’est déjà le moment de prendre la route
C’est le moment de marcher, le temps de penser
Nos épaules nues perlant de sueur
Nos longs cheveux emmêlés par le vent
Notre foi et nos existences ne peuvent être sans liberté
Notre chemin collectif résulte des choix de chacun de nous
C’est de la sueur que vous versez
Que dépend ce que vous récoltez
Ainsi parlaient nos grands ancêtres
Mais nos ancêtres s’en sont allés depuis longtemps
Nous n’avons pas à nous taire
Le maître du karma a fait de moi un pantin
En puisant dans mes forces et talents je me dois de réagir
Même la vieille dame d’à côté me dit que j’ai été pourri
Avec de l’énergie et des capacités je vais leur prouver à tous!
La nouvelle génération a pour force sa jeunesse
La nouvelle génération a pour orgueil sa confiance en elle
La nouvelle génération donne un semblant de joie de vivre
La nouvelle génération est sujette à la tentation nommée Liberté
La nouvelle génération a pour force sa jeunesse
La nouvelle génération a pour orgueil sa confiance en elle
La nouvelle génération donne un semblant de joie de vivre
La nouvelle génération est sujette à la tentation nommée Liberté
A un moment j’ai cru que l’amour c’était tout
Mais l’amour ne m’a mené à rien
Une fille que j’aimais tant
M’a offert un très beau cadeau
Aujourd’hui je ne l’ai pas perdu
Le rêve de l’amour ne s’est pas évanoui
Duperie et ruse!
Dans cette société où les gens sont dupés par l’argent, la gloire et le pouvoir
Pourrai-je jamais trouver l’amour véritable ?
Pourrai-je jamais m’engager de manière ferme ?
Qui d’entre nous le pourra ?
Nous passons notre temps à ressasser nos peines et à des choses superficielles
Nous avons créé nos propres ténèbres et la vie nous fait peur
Nous incarnons la fierté d’une jeunesse toute occupée à la recherche de ses futures aspirations
Cherchons!
Cherchons!
Nous sommes la nouvelle génération d’aujourd’hui
Comme j’ai pu mener à bien ce que je voulais réaliser
Mes rêves ne me perturbent plus la nuit
Comme j’ai dit ce que je voulais dire
Je ne suis pas devenu muet
Je l’ai fait pour moi seul!
Comme j’ai pu mener à bien ce que je voulais réaliser
Mes rêves ne me perturbent plus la nuit
Comme j’ai dit ce que je voulais dire
Je ne suis pas devenu muet
Je ne l’ai fait que pour me mettre en valeur!
Habituez-vous à moi!
Je suis le souffle décadent de votre incontrôlabilité
Habituez-vous à moi!
Je suis sous votre surveillance sans contrôle ni limite
Habituez-vous à moi!
Je représente l’esprit d’aujourd’hui et la matière de demain
Je suis très léger, dans votre imagination
Je suis très petit, dans votre carré de légumes
Votre théorie avancée souhaite-t’elle me faire exploser la tête?
Votre balle de son canon rayé veut-elle me perforer le cœur?
Je ne suis qu’une vieille carcasse endommagée
Le cheval du temps s’est élancé tôt ce matin
La petite flamme sous votre selle
Le sang et les corps gelés dans la glace sont voués à s’estomper
Nous sommes l’incisive sagesse que vos discours et conférences n’ont jamais égalée
Nous sommes la douce obscurité que votre flamme et votre pouvoir n’ont pas encore engloutie
Nous sommes la riposte enjouée qui vous brise le cœur
Nous sommes l’épidémie et la terreur de votre vie!
La nouvelle génération a pour force sa jeunesse
La nouvelle génération a pour orgueil sa confiance en elle
La nouvelle génération donne un semblant de joie de vivre
La nouvelle génération est sujette à la tentation nommée Liberté
La nouvelle génération a pour force sa jeunesse
La nouvelle génération a pour orgueil sa confiance en elle
La nouvelle génération donne un semblant de joie de vivre
La nouvelle génération est sujette à la tentation nommée Liberté
Notre histoire n’a pas pris fin à ce stade
Nous n’en sommes qu’au début
Jamais nous ne tomberons de sommeil. Nous resterons éveillés à jamais
Habituez-vous à rêver
Habituez-vous aux soulèvements hors la loi et aux ravages
Habituez-vous à ce nouveau mode de vie
Habituez-vous à aller de l’avant
A l’attention de notre bien-aimée et fière nouvelle génération
El ruído de los camiones nos ha despertado
Entre las multitudes y los altos edificioes
Nuestros sueños y pertenencias han sido empacados
Vean el cielo contaminado y sepan que
no podemos desperdiciar el tiempo esperando a que mañana amanezca
Es hora de despertar ahora…
Es hora de emprender el camino
Es hora de caminar, de pensar
Nuestros hombros se llenan de sudor
Nuestro pelo largo enredado por el soplar del viento
Nuestra fé y nuestras vidas, adornadas con libertad
nuestro camino en común está determinado por nuestras decisiones individuales
Tanto como siembras
será lo que coseches
Ustedes hablan de nuestos ancestros
pero ellos ya se han ido
Ya no tenemos que quedarnos acallados
El dueño de su karma me ha dejado atrás como un juguete viejo
Con fortaleza y con talento, tengo que responder
Incluso hasta la anciana del vecindario dice que estoy muy consetido
¡Con poder y habilidad, se los demostraré a todos!
La nueva generación es un recurso llamado juventud
la nueva generación tiene un orgullo que se mantiene con confianza
la nueva generación aparenta ser inocente y juguetona
La nueva generación ha sido tentada por algo llamado libertad
La nueva generación es un recurso llamado juventud
la nueva generación tiene un orgullo que se mantiene con confianza
la nueva generación aparenta ser inocente y juguetona
La nueva generación ha sido tentada por algo llamado libertad
Alguna vez pensé que el amor lo era todo
y después el amor me convirtió en nada
Una mujer que yo amaba tanto
Me ha dado un hermoso regalo
y ahor ala he perdido
Pero el sueño del amor no se ha perdido
¡Engaño y astucia!
En una sociedad donde la gente ha sido engañada por lo material, por la fama y el poder
¿Alguna vez encontraré un amor verdadero?
¿Alguna vez encontraré un verdadero compromiso?
¿quién entre nosotros lo encontrará?
Estamos atrapados en nuestro pensamientos de dolor y de pura moda
Hemos creado nuestra propia oscuridad y ahora tenemos miedo de vivir
Representamos el orgullo de la juventud y estamos en busca de futuras aspiraciones con una firme voluntad
¡Busca!
¡Busca!
Esta es la generación de hoy
He logrado lo que me he propuesto
Mis sueños ya no deambulan por la noche
He dicho lo que he deseado
Nunca enmudecí
¡Lo hice sólo para representarme a mi mismo!
He logrado lo que me he propuesto
Mis sueños ya no deambulan por la noche
He dicho lo que he deseado
Nunca enmudecí
¡Lo hice sólo para representarme a mi mismo!
Acostúmbrense a mi presencia
Yo soy el aire decadente de su descontrol
Acostúmbrense a mi presencia
Estoy fuera de los límites de su control
Acostúmbrense a mi presencia
Soy la manifestación del hoy y la sustancia del mañana
Soy ligero, en su imaginación
Soy muy pequeño, en jardín personal
¿Acaso desea tu teoría del desarrollo volarme la cabeza?
¿acaso desea tu bala atravesarme el corazón?
Soy tan solo un vehículo dañado
Un caballo que alguna vez partió por la mañana
La pequeña llama bajo tu asiento
La sangre y los cuerpos enterrados en el hielo alguna vez han de desaparecer
Somos la sabiduría que sus discursos y cursos educativos no han sido capaces de alcanzar
Somos la suave oscuridad que su flama de poder no ha podido absorber
Somos la respuesta espontánea y juguetoda que les provoca un paro cardiaco
¡Somos la epidemia y la mayor amenaza de su estilo de vida!
La nueva generación es un recurso llamado juventud
la nueva generación tiene un orgullo que se mantiene con confianza
la nueva generación aparenta ser inocente y juguetona
La nueva generación ha sido tentada por algo llamado libertad
La nueva generación es un recurso llamado juventud
la nueva generación tiene un orgullo que se mantiene con confianza
la nueva generación aparenta ser inocente y juguetona
La nueva generación ha sido tentada por algo llamado libertad
Nuestra historia no termina aquí
Este es solo el principio
Nunca dormimos, y estaremos despiertos por siempre
Acostúmbrense a soñar
Acostúmbrense al daño ilegal y a las protestas
Acostúmbrense a ésta forma de vida
Acostúmbrense a seguir adelante
Dedicada a nuestra amada y orgullosa nueva generación.
Writer and singer Jamyang Kyi, a vocal advocate of Tibetan women’s rights, was detained from 1 April to 20 May 2008, during which time she was tortured. After her release she wrote an account of her detention entitled “A Succession of Torture” and “They”, on her Tibetan blog. (The blog has been shut down). Her writings since May 2008 include moving letters to her friend Norzin Wangmo, who is currently serving a 5-year prison sentence.
[L-R Gyaltsen Drolkar, Phuntsog Nyidrol, Ngawang Sangdrol and Namdrol Lhamo in London. Photo Free Tibet http://www.freetibet.org]
