Tenzin Pelmo is a young bilingual poet from Tibet, fluent in Tibetan and Chinese. Born in 2000 in the rural area of Lhasa, she speaks Tibetan as her mother tongue and received bilingual education of Tibetan and Chinese from elementary school to middle school. She started writing poetry in Chinese while attending a Chinese high school in Shanghai and published many poems while in college in Tianjin. She graduated from Nankai University in Tianjin in 2023 with a BA degree in philosophy. Currently she works as a civil servant in Shannan City (aka Lhoka), south of Lhasa, bordering India and Bhutan on the south.
I “discovered” Tenzin Pelmo on the internet when she was a second year college student publishing poems online. I started translating her poems and recruited her as one of my three Tibetan informants for my ongoing project of “Ethnic Minority Poetry from China” by asking her to identify standard Lhasa Tibetan from other dialects of Tibetan. She lives now in Shannan, which means “south of the mountain,” located south of the mountain range from Mount Gangdise to Mount Nyainqentanglhais by the Yarlung River, generally considered as the birthplace of ancient Tibetan civilization. Her poems deal with Tibetan history and culture, Tibetan identity, and the mysterious land of Tibet. She writes poems in Chinese and Tibetan but has published mostly in Chinese.
* * *
name
they say my name was encoded with a disaster
in fact all names are given
and intended to carry blessings or misfortunes
people are fond of naming
and being called upon accordingly
classified in categories
as if you will know who you are
once in possession of a name
and respond accordingly
mother says she and grandma forgot
the name that had been given to me
when they walked down the mountain
i was an infant, swaddled.
in panic and regret they hurried back
to the temple—
where guru gave me a new name
sometimes i wonder if my mother and grandma
on their way down the mountain
and back to the temple
sought a different life for me, as if a new name would
re-define me, with blessings
or blessings in disguise
[2022]
* * * * *
darkness like a shadow
in the evening, mountains turn into
a silhouette
after passing through a tunnel
i suddenly see a truck full of oranges
and in my rear mirror is an orange sunset
a golden circle carried by many trucks
then it becomes dark
darkness like a shadow engulfs many shadows
the scenery gone
the eyes of most people watching it are unified
is darkness good at catching attention?
people start to seek what’s close to them
[2022]
* * * * *
shadow’s resistance
our only connection is underneath my feet
we seem to be bonded
but never talk to each other
it walks against a white wall
the cracks in the wall becoming part of it
twisting its body
it grows from the soles of my feet
being stretched, compressed, stretched again
disappearing and reappearing —
a very clear but thin layer of darkness
i become an intermediary
between the shadow and light
[2022]
* * * * *
rainy day
more silence, silence that cannot be declared
falls, as deep as graves
when it rains and rains more
plants starting to grow
i suddenly realize that
silence should be a sharp knife
to take apart decisively
its own core as a corpse at a celestial burial
becoming food
for the vultures to snatch away
[2022]
* * * * *
skylight
from the transparent roof of the café
here in Tianjin, i see a small patch of the sky —
suddenly I seem to hear the wind of May
blowing over the Qiangtang grassland* of Tibet
below its low clouds
i watch the skylight, entranced,
knowing just now how much I yearn
for beautiful things
identical or different
a joy at first, then worries
the man-made nature smells
plastic and rubberish
it turns out that all humans pursue eternity
even though they know about impermanence
i ask the stone walls “why?”
the stones remain silent
as silence is their nature
which even disasters can do nothing about
through the clear, transparent roof
of the café, a small piece of the sky
so many fleeting things pass by
such as sunlight
the stone walls force me to think in their silence
the answer i come up with:
humans know about “impermanence”
so they make fake eternity
[2021]
*Qiangtang is the largest grassland in China, about 5000 meters above the sea level, covering one third of Tibet, inhabited by wildlife. The author sits in the campus café in Tianjin, northern China, looking through the skylight and thinking about the same sun and wind above Tibet. The concept of “impermanence” first appeared in the “Book of Changes” and then developed through Tibetan Buddhism. (Translator’s note)
/ / / / /
名字 name
他们说，这个名字带着灾难
名字是被赋予的
一同附上生命当中的福祸
人们热衷于取名字
因为人总会被呼唤
物总会被归类
有了名字
似乎就知道了自己是谁
对各种呼唤，进行回应
母亲告诉我
她和奶奶在下山的路上
忘记了我的名字
那时我还是襁褓中的婴儿
在懊悔和慌张中
她们重新返回寺庙
上师再次赋予了我一个新名字
有时我在想，在下山的路上
在重新返回寺庙的途中
母亲和奶奶
为我求取了另一种人生
如果名字附带着这一生的福祸
*
གྲིབ་ནག་གི་ནག་ཇི་བཞིན། darkness like a shadow
དགོང་དྲོའི་རི་རྒྱུད་ནི་རིས་ཙམ་ཞིག།
ཕུག་ལམ་བརྒྱུད་ནས།
ཤིང་ཏོག་ཚ་ལུས་འགེངས་པའི་ཟོག་འཕྲུལ་ཞིག་དང་འཕྲད།
ཕྱིར་བལྟས་ཤེལ་ནང་དུའང།
ནུབ་ལ་ཁའི་ཉི་མ་ཚ་ལུ་འགེངས་པ་ལྟ་བུར།
སེར་མདོག་ཚགས་དེ་འཁོར་ལོ་དུ་མས་འདེགས་ཀྱིན།
ཉིན་མོའི་འོད་འཆར་ཡལ།
གྲིབ་མའི་ནག་ཇི་བཞིན་གྱིས་གྲིབ་མ་བསྣུབས།
ལྗོངས་རྣམ་པ་སྣང་མེད་དུ་སོང་ནས།
མང་དག་སྐྱེ་བོའི་མིག་ཤེས་གཅིག་ཏུ་གྱུར།
ནག་མདོག་གིས།
སྐྱེ་བོའི་མིག་གི་འཕེན་མདའ་གཅིག་ཏུ་འདུའམ།
དེ་ལྟར་ནའང་མི་རྣམས།
རེ་ཞིག་རང་རང་སྙིང་ཉེ་བ་དག་འཚོལ་དུ་སྙེགས།
像影子一样的黑色 darkness like a shadow
傍晚的山脉只有轮廓
穿过隧道
遇见装满橘子的货车
后视镜里装着像橘子一样的夕阳
那金黄的圆点也被很多车子驮着
天暗了下来
影子一样的黑色吞没了影子
风景消失了
大多数人的目光统一了
黑色最能聚焦人的目光？
人们开始寻找自己亲近的人
*
影的反抗 shadow’s resistance
我们之间唯一的接触，就在脚底
很多时候我们都在一起
但从不交谈
它贴在白色的墙上
墙的裂痕也出现在它的身上
那些实体扭曲着它
它从我的脚底生长
被拉长、压缩、消失又出现
很清晰的一片薄薄的黑
此刻我是一个中间物
介于影子和光之间
*
ཆར་ཉིན། rainy day
བརྗོད་པར་དཀའ་བའི་སྨྲ་བའི་བརྗོད་དུམ་རེ་རེ།
དུར་ས་ཇི་བཞིན་རེ་ཞིག་གཏིང་དཔོག་དཀའ་བར་གྱུར།
ཆར་ཆུ་ཇེ་མང་དུ་འགྲོ་གྱིན།
ས་སྐྱེས་མཐའ་དག་འཚར་ལོངས་བའི་སྐབས།
ངའི་གློ་བུར་བའི་ཚོར་བའི་སྣང་བ་རུ།
བརྗོད་མེད་ནི་རྣོ་ངར་གྱི་མཚོན་ཆར་སེམས།
བརྗོད་མེད་པའི་གནད་ནི་དུར་ཁྲོད་ཀྱི་ཕུང་བུ་བཞིན།
ཁོ་ཐག་ཆོད་པོས་བྱེ་ཐོར་སོང།
བཟན་དུ་གྱུར། བྱ་གླག་གིས་ཁྱེར།
雨天 rainy day
无法宣告的很多沉默
是坟墓一样的深
当雨水变多
植物开始生长的时候
我猛然意识到
沉默应该是利刃
沉默的内核要像天葬台上的尸体
被果断地分解
成为食物
让秃鹫叼去
*
一小片天空 skylight
咖啡厅透明的屋顶
可以看见一小片天空
我忽然就听到五月的风
吹在羌塘草原低矮的云下
我入神的看着
才知道多向往
太多好看的
太多一样又不一样的
开始是欣喜
后来就只剩烦恼
人们仿制的大自然
总带着塑料橡胶的味道
原来人们追求的是永恒
即便他们知道“无常”
我问石头“为什么”？
石头始终沉默
沉默是它的天性
任何灾难也奈何不了它
咖啡厅透明的屋顶
那一小片天空里
有许多稍纵即逝的
比如阳光
石头用沉默逼迫我思考
我得出的答案是
人们知道“无常”
所以假造“永恒”