By Mario Perera, Kadawata

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ Old Ban is the topic of all the news these days

And that is surely what he wants

Hardly is he able to mend his comic ways

So face up he must to all our taunts

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Old Ban looks sad and bent with dubious age

He looks so weary and forlorn

Try as he will to turn a brand new page

He can neither make a change nor even be reborn

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Poor Ban-Ki cannot get a wink of sleep

By switching off the light of his Moon

As the night grows dark, still darker and deep

All he sees approaching, is his day of doom

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Come on Bank-Ki come on boy

Let Sri Lanka wipe the tear from your eye

Just stop being a clown, you the white manƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s toy

Even Wimal on his death-bed (!) clearly heard you sigh

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Ban has no joy at all in his silver moonlight

Nor in trotting the globe from West to East

Good meals, good rooms, good clothes that delight

Dancing girls galore on whom his eyes can feast

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

His panel is causing him many a nightmare

Because of the Indonesian who heads that motley team

This misfit politico has laid his heart bare

Getting into Ban KiƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s shoes, is his glaring day dream

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Wimal our stunt man finished two days of shooting

Said he to the media; I am here to do or die

Adulated by thronging crowds for his Bank Ki Moon beating

Others watched with gloating eyes, to see his end draw nigh

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

Oh Ban-Ki, Oh Ban-Ki we say with overt glee

You the tragic Hamlet of New YorkƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s U.N. stage

To be is not your fate your fate is NOT TO BE

For itƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s to you they apply, these ominous words of the Sage.

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

As for Wimal little joker of the ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”¹…”WihuluwoodƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢ screen

Saved long before the bell by a Presidential deal

Whisked off in an ambulance spotless white and clean

HeƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢ll soon be back in Parliament, for many a five star meal.

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚