Like a winged dove’s escape at night
Across icy rocks that sting and bite.
When bayonets go rusty with crusted blood
Mighty pens still spread it’s inky flood
Driving dogmas far beyond the plateau vast
Where strong minds win peace at last.
From Dalai Lama holy to Karampa young,
Tibet unchained will live in songs sung,
So long Tsangpo flows and birds sing,
The bells of Freedom will always ring !