A thousand years

I will not be there

Will the birds still sing their songs,

a thousand years on?

Just as in the benign being

Just as in the happy living

Just as in human feat, mauling

the love from hate

for a thousand years

As birds as they do to flying

In colours as there is vibrancy

Instinctive, it is quite

That we need nothing, not even words,

not even the words on stones

for a thousand years

So I need no modestness

to know this foolishness

I need no sadness

to know the happiness

But the long road, the journey

I need no Koubru and Wangbren

to know Marjing and Thangjing

but the happy thoughts, the direction.

I do need to know

The moments, how you feel

when it is emptiness

when I don't make you feel.