Fenced round with snow
On the Red Hill
The crown of Lhasa there ascends
Above the City of the Gods
Chambers made of gold
The boundless Sunlight Hall
(I’m) reaching the Eastern part
Filled with cultural relics
Roaming through halls of former times
Breathing the scent of holy lives
The Dalai Lama is alive
Inside the aisles of Potala
The holy throne
-Sixipuncog-
And curtains of rich coloured silk
Of the Qing Dynasty
Amber and jade bowls -
Caught in a maze of rooms
White ornaments enchant my mind
Gifts and treasures, diamond shrines
Along the four meditation halls
Near the stairs of the 7th
floor
My inspiration unfolds -
The Red Palace is alive
Feeling the love of former times
Listening to sounds of ancient rhymes
The Dalai Lama will survive
Inside the walls of Potala
When the big flood’s coming someday
Potala flies above the waves
On the final judgement day
Potala’s drifting away