Having come from Tibet, <br />Lamas keep wandering around <br />These days, mumbling mantras <br /> <br />Their herds of mules <br />Go down into the gardens <br />They do not eat marigold ?owers <br /> <br />How many ?owers <br />On one marigold plant, <br />Papa? <br /> <br />When it's the rainy season <br />in Tibet, <br />What season <br />Do we have? <br /> <br />When it's three o'clock <br />In Tibet, <br />What time <br />Is it here? <br /> <br />In Tibet <br />Are there marigolds, <br />Papa? <br /> <br />Do lamas blow conch shells, Papa? <br /> <br />Papa, <br />Have you ever seen lamas <br />Wrapped in blankets <br />Running quickly <br />In the darkness? <br /> <br />When people die <br />Lamas stand <br />On all four sides of their graves <br />And bow their heads <br /> <br />They do not recite mantras. <br /> <br />They whisper - tibbut <br />tibbut tibbut <br />tibbut tibbut <br />tibbut tibbut <br />And they cry <br />all night long. <br /> <br />Do lamas <br />Cry just <br />Like us, Papa? <br /> <br />[Translated from Hindi by Robert A. Hueckstedt]<br /><br />Uday Prakash<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tibet-2/
