Tibetan kitchens and the sea

Hunger calls out,

And i want to run,

Run to the Tibetans,

But the sea i see,

When i come out through the

Narrow path calms me,

Hunger calls out once more,

But now i walk,

Walk to the Tibetans,

To their holy music and yellow and red and green.

The foreigners look bored but calm,

Calm from the raging sea,

How ironic.

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