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It is not, I tell you, a Chinese province.
Bold Communism, tyrant Beijing, may so claim, but the barrel of a gun does not
forge reality.
No one in this place, no one born here, no one whose blood is the altitudinous
air, is fooled.
Decades of iron-heeled stupidity do not change heart and soul and mind.
But where were you in 1959?
I know where I was — unborn.
But where were you in 1969, 1979?
I was there, and even then I wanted freedom in the mountains.
I cannot condemn you, for I am fallible,
But where were you?
I cried "Free Tibet!" while the world turned blind eyes and the
intelligentsia turned Red.
And I knew then that it was not a Chinese province.
Away with recriminations.
To batter each other is to bless the wrong.
We are agreed, now and forever, that Tibet must be free.
We find union in abominating annexation by the bayonet's edge.
Our communion is in rejecting invasion and occupation.
The foreign god of Communism must go.
The foreign priests of the People's Liberation Army must go.
The foreign government against, against, against the people must go.
Do not forget.
We know the meaning of Holocaust.
We must turn wide eyes, conscious glances, fervent minds, upon Tibet.
We must never forget, and we must never let China forget
Not for an instant
That this is not a Chinese province.
