The Guru's Head

Oh lama hear me, lama hear me, lama hear me,
They didn't have planning permission,
So the Government took you down.

Oh lama know me, lama know me, lama know me,
Petty tyrants broke you apart,
Knocked you into pieces, for an example.

Oh lama remember me, lama remember me, lama remember me,
Soldier lorrries carried away the pieces,
They left your head in Tsethang.

Oh lama hear me, lama hear me, lama hear me,
They left the head by the side of a dusty road,
Big enough for a family of nomads to live in.

Oh lama know me, lama know me, lama know me,
Your head was big enough for a group of pilgrims
To have done a puja offering inside it.

Oh lama remember me, lama remember me, lama remember me,
But it lay on its side in the road while the lorries rolled by
Staring into space, covered in dust.

Oh lama hear me, lama hear me, lama hear me,
We came by in our bus, to fast to stop or slow down
We were stunned, someone shouted, no-one even took a shot.

Oh lama know me, lama know me, lama know me,
I tried to draw the scene, but I didn't have the skill,
So I wrote this down instead, a picture in words.

Oh lama remember me, lama remember me, lama remember me,
You can never lose your dignity or power,
Your sideways wise & loving gaze, a warning to us all:

“Look on my works you mighty & despair!”
“You are just dust, but I am timeless gold.”

Barry Patterson, April 2008
A true story from Tibet, June 2007