Lake Yamdrok Poem by Kathup Tsering

The heart bleeds,
and life carries,
with the turning time,
waves of legacy
to the shore, floating on the blue lake.
The tides wash
drifting souls
down hellish land stretch
past the Ire of snowlions.

Water and wind
gathered ice.
The lake was formed.
Red and rigid,
the bloods and the rivers
swelled beneath the lake.
Northeast waves
swallowed up the shore.

Peach and Plum trees,
as bare as a skeleton,
unseen by mortal eyes,
and dried goldfishes
in sands beneath my feet.
Now I live a new life
where there are no sounds.
I sleep, I weep, lifelessly.

On the waterless sands,
I walk, leaving behind my footprints,
as my bare hands
rise before these arid faces.
My people, humble people who know
what will happen to Lake Yamdrok.
Then I will ask,
“Am I dead or Am I alive? ”