① 布琼索南（Bhuchung D. Sonam）：生于西藏，从小随父母流亡印度，曾获印度巴洛达大学经济学硕士学位，现在美国波士顿一所大学深造，兼用藏文、英文写作，著有英文诗集《西藏蒲公英》（Dandelions of Tibet）和《二元冲突》（A Conflict of Duality, 2006），编有藏人以英文写作的诗集《流亡的缪斯：西藏流亡诗人选集》（Muses in Exile En Anthology of Exile Tibetan Poets）。
⑤ 更敦群培 (1903-1951) ：近代西藏的著名学者、画家、诗人、翻译家，西藏文化史上承前启后的大师。1946年在拉萨以涉嫌“印造伪钞”的罪名被捕，实际原因可能是他在旅行印度期间卷入“西藏革命党”的活动。1950年十四世达赖喇嘛亲政后大赦政治犯，更敦群培因此获释。
⑥ 雍日本：五○年代汉藏武装冲突中藏人眼里的康巴勇士，据米克尔·登海姆（Mikel Dunham）的《菩萨勇士》（The Buddha's Warriors）一书，雍日本于1956年4月在理塘寺战死。
A Song from a Distance
By Bhuchung D. Sonam
My body is trapped in a heated room.
Light shines from the ceiling.
A leather sofa invites me
To let my spine relax,
But my heart runs
To that river by the village
That bridge made of leather thongs
Rocking with the wind,
That dusty yard where
I was tied to a boulder while mama
Worked in the field everyday.
Here grey houses stare at me.
The people on the train,
Frozen, edgy, tired, lonely, lost,
Wish for other versions of their lives.
My mind runs to
That village by The Scorpion Hill
Where the willow trees whistle,
Where I once set a farmer's hut on fire.
I am now a hair of a dandelion flying with wind.
What about you, my rebel?
I see that you, too, are trapped
In a far corner of a mad city
Under stars shimmering bright yellow –
Does your sofa invite you?
Or is it the eyes on the wall that watch
Every twitch of your muscles?
I see that your heart runs away
To your home in the mountains,
Where under the blue sky
Pointed stars watch.
From a distance I sing:
You and I are the fragments of an arrow
Shot forth from Gesar's bow,
You and I are the ears of barley
Watered by the Yarlung River.
Every day when I open the internet
My heart fears that there will be news
Of your disappearance,
Like Dolma Kyab into a cell
Before his Himalayas on Stir
Could be born to a family of books,
Like Jamyang Kyi taken away unseen
Soon after she produced the evening news,
Like that opera master captured in darkness
Before his songs became one with the wind,
Like that old woman from Barkhor
Who disappeared with her prayer wheel.
From a distance I sing:
You and I are the pieces of a broken pot
In which Milarepa cooked his nettles,
You and I are the leaves of a juniper tree
Fragrant in the hills of Amnye Machen.
Here in exile, my wrinkles deepen.
The leaves fall from the trees.
You will sharpen your pen in that city
Where each of your words is measured,
Each breath checked, each step followed.
But your pen dances with tales
Which come to me in another tongue.
From a distance I sing:
You and I are shattered words in a poem
Gendun Choephel wrote in his cell,
You and I are chipped pieces
Of Yurupon's sword that pierced the April night.
You and I will have
A bowl of thukpa
In that dingy Lhasa hotel
You and I will be
Snow lions roaming
the mountains of Nyenchen Thangla
发帖者 Tsering Woeser 时间： 00:33
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Conflicts of Duality : Call of an Exile Poet回复删除
Phayul[Monday, July 10, 2006 18:10]
Reviewed By Tsering Tsomo Chatsug
Book Title: Conflicts of Duality
Author: Bhuchung D. Sonam
Price: Rs. 150
Publisher: Tibet Writes, Dharamsala
The recurrent theme in almost all the poems composed by exile Tibetan poets are that of longing for a homeland, freedom and the pain of exile. For those uninitiated fully into the intricacies of the exile Tibetan community and the pertinent issues that affect it, Bhuchung D. Sonam’s latest offering, Conflicts of Duality, may seem like another collection of poems by a Tibetan exile. But the slim 80-page book is a profound meditation on important contemporary issues that the poet fears have the potential to create differences and unnecessary divisions in the Tibetan community and the Tibetan freedom struggle as well.
The book powerfully presents the current conflicts extant in the exile Tibetan community. From the diverse voices advocating ways for resolving the Tibetan issue to the unwelcome changes and trends in the Tibetan community that threaten to destroy the very essence of Tibetan culture and traditions, the poet expresses his opinions on every issue in a refreshingly intrepid and lucid way. The poet shows acute concern over the never-ending Independence and Middle Way debate which was arguably one of the most contentious issues till recently. This is evident in more than one place in the book.
Sample these lines from the poem Conflicts of Duality:
I am a small piece
I wish to be a full entity,
He is a Middle Pathist
Appearing to be a Freedomist
Deep down leaning towards the left,
The conflict is more than dualistic…
Conflicting Calls is another poem where the poet again talks about the issue and here, he sounds ominous as he sees the freedom struggle going nowhere in the differing din of autonomy and independence calls.
They come from within
These regular chants
We are in the middle of nowhere
Trying to reach everywhere.
In Punctured Lines the poet evocatively describes the pain of exile as the exile souls from the snow mountain longs for the breezy and cool mountain home:
In the heat of Indian summer
Butter sculptures melt
Could gods send cold waves?
Oh how we miss the snow
Let’s go back home.
An essay called Of Exile, Youth and Writing appears at the very end of the book. It is an insightful rumination and comment on literary works of exile Tibetan writers in different times and circumstances. Incidentally, this essay first appeared as an introduction to Bhuchung’s previous book, Muses in Exile, another collection of poems featuring works of various exile Tibetan poets.
I find it important to mention here that I am particularly struck by Bhuchung’s profound knowledge about Tibetan culture, traditions, religion and history considering his young age and the fact that he was brought up and educated in exile. The images and words he use in all his poems give the whole book a very “Tibetan” feel, irrespective of the fact that the book opens with a Tibetan poem. No Tibetans will be unmoved after reading this book because it speaks directly to their hopes, pain, values and roots. We talk about waning patriotism and death of activism among Tibetan youngsters, but naïve as it may sound, one way to counter that would be to offer space for such books in the libraries of Tibetan schools and institutions. These young writers and poets need to be encouraged and if need be criticised, but by Tibetans themselves. I don’t know how many are aware but exile Tibetan writers like Bhuchung had found it difficult to find publishers for their books and the small earnings they make are directed towards publishing their books. Bhuchung’s stories are our stories which is why it is so important to share these stories.
Tempting as it is to quote and discuss more lines from this book, I would prefer the readers make their own judgements. But the temptation itself speaks how profound an experience the read would be. For Tibetan readers, it will be like venturing into the familiar terrain as one after another recognisable characters/images pop up every now and then.
Note: Tsering Tsomo Chatsug can be reached at email@example.com