We, thepilgrims to Mt. Kailash in Tibet
werefortunate to stay in Hotel Country Villa
at Syfrubhensi, a hamlet on the road
from Kathmandu [Nepal] to Tibettan border.
The high mountains surround in all the sides
and hinder the onslaught of freezing cold winds
which grip the well-built, god-fearing Tibettans
on the other side, just fifteen kilometres away.
We opened the windows in the night
and the breeze of the hills lulled us all
to sleep in peace in that room
which has no fan or A/C to comfort.
The Windmills and the Solar Panels supply
power for twelve hours and so everyone
needs a torch to use in the darker night.
The buzzing sounds of the streams
were the lullabies to stop our minds
from roaming around thoughts oflust.
This beauteous spot in the hilly terrain
vies with the people, the hosts whose
hospitality surpasses all to claim our praise.
The hot spring nearbywelcomes all
tohave a dip and tame the biting cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem