今天是这个孩子27岁的生日，我们却不能对他说一声“生日快乐”，因为他在年仅6岁时就被失踪了。
才6岁，他就不见了。标准的说法是：他和其他孩子一样，幸福地生活在祖国大地上。
他的名字是第11世班禅额尔德尼·根敦·确吉尼玛，1989年4月25日出生于西藏自治区那曲地区嘉黎县，父亲名叫贡确平措，母亲名叫德庆曲珍，他还有一个哥哥和一个姐姐。
整整21年了，他在哪里呢？我们的11世班禅喇嘛。
以下是我写的两首诗（英文译者是A.E.Clark先生），数年来，每逢今日都会重温、再贴……
十二月
1、
听哪，大谎就要弥天
林中的小鸟就要落下两只
他说：西藏，西藏，正在幸福
愤怒的女孩不节食
遍地的袈裟也在变色
他们说：为了保住这条命
但那一个，啊！
滚烫的血液，滚烫的血液
谁在来世放声恸哭？
2、
乌云！崩溃！
这是我此刻的幻象
我也知道，此刻沉默
就永远沉默
千万张拉长的脸啊
请敞开心扉
那颜色尤为绛红的人
牺牲一次
因为生命之树常青
灵魂，就是灵魂
3、
更大的挫折！
万木从未有过的凋零
小人物噤若寒蝉
那样合拢的双手
却被生生斩断
要填满鹰犬的胃
啊，一串无形的念珠
谁有资格，从肮脏的
尘世，毅然拾起？
1995-12，拉萨
班禅喇嘛
如果时间可以抹煞谎言，
十年是否足够？
一个儿童长成聪颖少年，
却像一只鹦鹉，喃喃学舌，
那是乞求主子欢心的说辞！
另一个儿童，他在哪里？
他手腕上与生俱来的伤痕，
是他的前世，在更早的十年
在北京某个暗无天日的牢房，
被一付手铐，紧紧地捆缚。
而今，渺无音讯的儿童，
是否已经遍体鳞伤？！
如果黑暗有九重，
他和他，身陷的是第几重？
如果光明有九重，
他和他，神往的是第几重？
也许就在黑暗与光明的每一重
他在身陷着，他在神往着......
贡觉松！如此颠倒的人世间，
怎样的无常之苦，
竟在班禅喇嘛的身上轮回示现！
（贡觉松：佛法僧三宝）
2005-10-12，北京
December
1．
"Hear ye!" The big lie shall blot the sky,
Two sparrows in the wood shall fall.
"Tibet," he says, "Tibet is fine and flourishing!"
The furious girl will not bite her tongue.
Everywhere the monastic robe has lost its color.
They say: It's to save our skin.
But that one, oh,
The steaming blood poured out, the hot blood!
In the next life, who will grieve for him?
2．
Storm clouds! Doom!
In my mind's eye I see.
I know if I don't speak now
I'll be silent forever.
Sullen millions,
Lift up your hearts.
He was sacrificed once,
That man of deep red hue.
But as the tree of life is evergreen,
A soul is always a soul.
3．
A worse defeat!
Thouands of trees, blighted as never before.
The little folk are quiet as a cricket in the cold.
The pair of praying hands
Was chopped off
To cram the bellies of kites and curs.
Oh, that rosary unseen,
Who is worthy with a firm hand
To pick it up from the slime of this world?
December 1995, Lhasa
The Panchen Lama
If time can cover up a lie,
Is ten years enough?
A child matures into a clever youth,
But like a parrot, mumbles by rote
The phrases that will please his masters.
The other child, where is he?
The scar-like birthmark on his wrist recalls
His previous life, before, when for ten years
He sat trussed with tight handcuffs
In some Beijing cell no ray of light could reach.
What bruises mar him now,
The child no one hears from?
If there are nine levels to the darkness,
At which one are they trapped - he, and the other?
If there are nine levels to the light,
To which do they aspire - he, and the other?
Perhaps, in each phase of darkness and of light,
Where one is trapped, the other aspires.
Kunchoksum! The world's turned upside down,
That the pain of impermanence,
Of samsara, has struck home to the Panchen Lama!
12 October 2005, Beijing
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