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