Weep not Mother Lanka
For thy children scattered around the world
and those seeking refuge within thy embrace
reaching out in anguished pain for thy sufferings
and those helplessly distanced by the trauma of it all!
They weep for thee without control.
Thy beauty still languishes in exquisite form
towards eternal continuity despite thy grief and the scars!
Remembered over decades of growing up
nestled in thy bosom,
locked in time wherever they may be.
The calming blue yonder of endlessness
the golden sands we played on as children
cavorting in the swirling foam
of the Indian Ocean!
The shimmering mountain steeps we climbed in our youth
reaching up to a heavenly solitude
In quest of a sacred footprint and a mystic shadow
nestled in the clouds.
The temple bells at morning's wake
The throbbing drums
throught this magical paradisical land
serenading the August moon
in the festival of Esala
Caprisoned and gloriously lit elephants
mingling with entrancing dancers and drummers
Parading the streets in obeisance and festivity combined!
The call of the Avurudu Koel
Cloth and jacketed Ladies
seated round a flat topped Raban drum
Heralding the New Year in auspicious enchanting rhythm
The tradition of giving and receiving
kindness and Joie de Vivre!
emphatic this time of year!
This magical land of the indomitable Sinhalese
Once shared by all races resplendently
now shattered by the explosions of hatred
generated by meaningless bloodlust !
Drawing more than an eident tear.
A lasting peace so deserving
Surely awaits thee!
