For fifty years Han hand has lain
heavy on Lhasa's mountain land,
acting in manner underhand
on peaceful population. Pain
and persecution, thousands slain
on whim, as Chinese thugs expand,
manhandle monasteries, demand
obedience to illegal reign -
discrimination's bridle rein
with basic human freedoms banned,
protests punished out of hand.
Upon collective conscience: Stain!
The Dalai Lama's aging fast
who'll liberate Tibet at last?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem