Ancient white willow beautiful Kelsang

White clouds float over the hills,

I stood by the old white willow.

A hurried little river flows into the Brahmaputra,

Pedestrians by the river were in a hurry.

Silver birds fly to heaven,

Wings carry the light of faith.

The distant hillsides are full of yaks and white sheep,

The riding boy looks for Nagisa.

The aroma of barley wine ignited the chest,

A girl dancing melodiously.

The Kelsang flower was lightly inserted next to Dolma's ear,

Singing love and singing praises to well-being.