Our Story Poem by Tenzin Tsewang

We begin with love;
Before the red sweetheart, we had our glory, our golden age.
Our enlightened father gave this earth love,
And our mother produced compassion's music from a barbaric flute.

We have our share of shame:
The enemy's smiling face,
The applause for a silly deed.
We preferred salt over sweet,
And played a sour song until it sounded sweet.

We throw suspicion into the air, yes, we do
When a distant enemy airs their views about us.
March memories, cold handshakes, the sacrifice of millions;
These make only half of our story.