The Garden Will be Ours – Poem by Kezang Dorji written in 2008


by Kezang Dorji

Year: 2008

Place: Baylling Higher Secondary School, Trashiyangtse


Submerged it swims in the stark serene sky

That roofs the unbounded Garden of red, red roses;

The Dragon-newly hatched, yet as a full-grown butterfly.

O Mother dear, a Garden there is I suppose

That of Godly gifts pure supreme which embowers

And believe me Mother dear the Garden will be ours.

Such a mighty line be propped by sanity strong

For delve into the cadillac chronicles of thine

And glance the opulent vegetation to thee that belong;

‘Tis forsooth thy might profound deemed never to decline,

Ascertained? Thou be dressed ever in Dragons courage,

Lets sail through ,Mother thy son reckons an immune voyage.

Thy fair hounds did the voracious wolves discard,

Into the unbottomed abyss flung the serpents insincere

Blessed we are. The Dragon will our throne ever guard.

For I faith Him and I consider thee Mother dear.

And in truth, thou art in waters of Styx drenched

Never shall thou perish of thirst unquenched.

I foresee my ears relish the flourish of heavenly melody,

Truly blessed my eyes are to descry our sovereign renown

Lead our kingdom of heavens in his winged majesty

Towards the greater rapturous land in my dreams found,

Approving the bloods noble in him that run,

Satiating my senses to sense dreams into reality turn

Stranded we have by then the unreliable deep blue sea

Where vicious pirates drown in Davy Jones fury

While in a numbed swiftness we ride on chariots of glee

Into the gardens and fruit trees of mountains lofty;

No insane weed amid the roses be grown,

Nor pests fruit trees infest- they are with the wolves thrown.

To delight, as dry Pegasus, the honeyed water we taste

From its fountains and silver streams in a sustained flow,

Thence the angels of Buddha maintain ever chaste.

In the graveyards of amnesia entomb our worldly foes

And my chronic brothers rejuvenate in sound health.

O, Mother dear, possessed we are in ethereal wealth.

Enhanced to look as beautiful as an Indian bride

Unmatched by a thousand Helens of Troy

We surpass. with processions great the nuptial knot be tied

In the temples of Gods to deathless joy

Mother dear, strength it is to conquer heaven’s throne

In it’s entirety- the heavens of our own.

In the opera, sweet songs sung I hear, of the world

within; Countless spectra of rainbows arch over the sky,

In flowers it showers as the Dragons flag is unfurled

Kissing our faces, the arrested goodness to untie

Then there’s rapture of joy- some sing and dance to their songs

Others gulp vintage and eye whence utter delight throngs.

Mother, ecstasy unimagined there is, unceasingly it pours

And ceaselessly the heart pounds by the tangible wonders,

By Gods name our marriage will never foment in divorce

If the devils conspire to jeopardize, as the Dragon thunders

Like a short lived cough the poor devils shall vanish

Perfection there is that naught shall succeed to blemish.

No lucifer, no Brutus, nor Clytemnestra-naught of their sort

Breathe in no chest to wound the sentiments of thy son

For the language of love all speak, lucidly as are taught

And in love, with love and for love all are done,

Its our love for thee and thy love for us , Mother

That in all these years , we love to love one another.

Truth ’tis Mother dear, my words intend not to overstate

Our ship glides towards a bright and bold future

That the mystic architect of the universe did ever create,

Our jubiliant youth moulded by the disciplines infant we nurture

Unbodied love, joy and pleasure spontaneously does unfold

For ever and ever, as in some fairy tales told.

It is but the Happiness we march to achieve

And achieve the paradise the untimely times of hope shows

Under the guidance of the gallant kings-the greatest gifts received

O Mother dear, a Garden there is, I suppose

That of Godly gifts pure supreme which embowers

And believe me Mother dear the Garden will be ours.


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