Mario Perera, Kadawata

 

The office you were called to hold

Is not for those who favours seek

Its meant for people strong and bold

No place there for the weak and meek

 

The post which holds out bounteous hope

To the suffering and the needy

As livelong they through tunnels grope

With nothing to feel cheery

 

We looked upon your name with glee

There was ‘Bank’ and there was ‘Moon’

It augured our tryst with destiny

Your name did herald such a boon

 

And when you put on Annan’s shoes

We hoped for sunrise from the East

But soon you learnt the donts and the does

You learned to scratch the western beast

 

Our forces fought their battles hard

Conquered the hateful insidious foe

We thought you’ll be our thankful bard

And let your verse unhindered flow

 

Nothing of all that was to be

You a man from an Asian land

Were only working for a fee

The fiddler of the European band

 

For thirty years our blood was shed

Drenching Lanka’s blessed land

We fete the living and mourn the dead

With joy not writ on sifting sand

 

Stop the war dance you did shout

But is that not what warriors do?

The scum of terrorism we did rout

You only echoed the white man’s boo

 

So now we know you Ban Ky-Moon

We know the meaning of your name

Our people call you Ban ‘KIMUNG’

A boring yawn a lasting shame