MUSINGS

Dharamsala: My Second Homeland

Guided by the firing of cannons,
We were driven here, to the other side of the Himalayas.
If it weren’t for this mountain chain, so benevolent,
Roaming like wild deer – Ah! Would we have not died?
Dharamsala – it’s not a foreign land – it’s my second homeland.

Counting the forty years on one’s fingertips,
Though a whole generation’s youth has passed here,
Our livelihood has grown to abundance.
If it weren’t for the wide smile of our Indian brethren,
Would not we be like wandering beggars, in sorrow?
The people of India are not outsiders – they are my second parents.

This well-endowed tree – the harmonious gathering of Indians and Tibetans –
It’s seed is the Dharmic connection, made 1000 years ago;
It’s sprouts of love and friendship are still growing;
It’s ripened blosoom of peace, this glorious festival
May it remain for as long as these mountains!
Noble India – it’s not another kingdom – it’s my second country.

The original poem written by Chabtra Ponya during the auspicious occasion of Indo-Tibetan Friendship Society of Dharamasala was translated by Tyler Dewar with the assistance of the author.