I Know Simply That the Wind Will Last Longer Than I

Kalden Rangdröl Dhatsenpa


“You fool”

the car’s on fire.

There’s no driver yet

the wheel still turns.

There’s a ghost in the starving machine

who refuses to stop

as the rooftop burns.

At least a horse without a brand

can always turn back

wild, nay not a car entirely

set ablaze, ere long

exhaustions will end, pyre

idling hereafter.

In time climbing

restarts, upon

the heights

long and winding

a pasture folds

atop a hill, familiar

a long wind,



a foal


Courtesy of the poet


Social Drinkers


Providence will surely grace us [sober] lovers

In solace, we get

Red-faced on each other



She Calls Me When and What She Wants


A great man is known by his nickname

A great horse is known by its speed.

And I know your lover best

by her deeds

I read your poets,

scholars, thieves

I wrest from you

riches, my expertise.


Your lover and I are thieves

With sleight of hand

she drops a calling card

she takes all my clothes

a draft breaks in

we keep warm


Bandit Enlightenment, or the Real Shangri-la


it’s not time to die

today, it’s time to cease

the breaking wheel

seize, survive, and steal

ki! hear me westerly winds

ki! a strum of farther lifts

so stop the incense burn

so let the arrows sing home

of the horizon, bardo

let the many vultures fly

dear lotus, hum

let my thieves ride

forwards with hunger

forwards with haste

aro! allow me to sing

to those who give chase

we have sight, smell,

touch, and taste

you have ornamental heirlooms,

elemental treasures that you waste

 we are deaf to your abundant pleas

reach for the sky, or hand out the plates

pray the hungry show mercy

so thirsty, bandits quicken pace

 treasures call out to thieves

 without a trace, superior to gold,

hotter than tea, finer than lace

in the window, we see much

in the room, we find empty space




the beauty of emptiness found!

good fortunes, and joy!

absolute truth is like the sky!

and Providence, devoid!

let thieves enjoy fruit

let stomachs turn to pits

 just as a seed of me

sprouts and sprints

from the peak of a mountain

to the beak of a vulture

 kikisoso lha gyalo!

victory to the gods!

feast on what is ours

stand your ground,

take in the view

if the void stares

then so must you


desire is suffering,

but hunger is






Kalden Rangdröl Dhatsenpa (སྐལ་ལྡན་རང་གྲོལ་མདའ་ཚན་པ།) is the eldest son of Pema Yangchen Khangsar Bhungdong Nupe and the late drokpa essayist and poet Gonpo Tsering Dhatsenpa in Dharamsala, India. He holds a BFA in Film Production from the Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema. He is a member of the editorial board at Canadian Dimension, a political magazine established in 1963. He ran twice as a federal candidate in Canadian elections and has worked on other political campaigns such as Chimi Lhamo’s city council campaign. He has been published in The Breach, Canadian Dimension, Commo Mag, and has forthcoming work elsewhere. He covers a wide range of topics from mining practices in Tibet to political undercurrents in movies. He is currently a writer and photographer based in Tiohtià:ke /Mooniyang / Montréal.