Are you able to tell us apart?
A refugee with a sad history,
Who rebuilt their life from a poor start,
And the communist that’s much wealthy,
Who emigrated in a move so smart.
But wait there’s more!
As dust cloud settles, Kathmandu is shown,
A rustic, brownish, backward mountain town.
The pensive stupa hears dirt roads intone,
The sadhu dreams as the pyre fire dies down.
Mount Everest forever in white gown,
Smiles at the human conquest of summit,
And cries for the dead who failed to make it.
The Communists think equal wealth’s for all,
Severe campaigns were planned in secrecy,
One’s for the old regime’s money downfall,
One’s to eradicate the bourgeoisie. But wait there’s more!