...Far in the east end is the land of tawang <br /> call abode of God of humaneness, <br />first rays of the life of the sun-breaths here that <br />kiss the existence of the Pagodas that stand tall, <br />the mantras, the monks; <br /> <br />In the lap of majestic mountains, happy are the-starving child <br />than the dying orphans of the glittering streets. <br /> <br />Hamlets on the hills <br />bathed by the breeze of the bravery….. <br /> <br />Brave children plays into the silvery streams, <br />There he sails a dream boat, <br /> <br />unknown to the glitzy world; <br />weird world of wonders. <br /> <br />Clad in maroon and saffron sacred robe, <br />The Shangken, the shievir <br />Like the sky bathed in the holiness <br />Of the crimson red western horizon <br /> <br />Never their peace be robbed- <br />Let the tiny feet wanders through the waning ways, <br />let it wanes through the pure thorny path of reality. <br /> <br />Buddhang Sharranam Gatsami: <br />Dhammang Sharranam Gatsami: <br /> <br />Voices of the holy child vibrates, <br />Echoes through the hills <br />through the white clouds <br /> <br />Touches the heart of the skies, <br />blessed are thou, o holy child… <br /> <br />Here <br />in the womb of abundance <br />bounded in fake smile the slaughtered innocence… <br />Daily prayer, is begging <br />a reason so hopeless <br /> for living...<br /><br />lovita j r morang<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sacred-children-s-story/
