When time comes to say goodbye, We cry to soothe the pain in our hearts, Am I less human because I shed no tears? We make no effort to see the living, Yet we find time to see the dead, Am I allowed to regret the lack of memories? The pain, the hurt, the emotional scars carved over decades, We forget them in a second, Am I foolish to repent over the mistakes of childhood? When Death visits and wraps his ghostly claws around my neck, Am I allowed to tell him no? Rtr. Vibhavee Sarathchandra
Category: Poems
The Fool & the Priest
Once upon a time,lived a fool and a priest.Fool, who desire crime,with a heart of a beast. The Priest save him no prayer,but some wine & crumbs of bread.For his heart so heavy with desire,flames ignite the skin while he bled. Once upon a time,the Priest loved the Fool.Oneday,he forgot his church rhymes,and that was a change of rule. The Fool said,"My dear, dear FedyaI please to kill."And everybody could swear,it was wet in red down the hill Rtr. Chamodi Peduruarachchi
Which is the right path? The roads are now too foggy
When I was little, and knew nothing of the worldI was drunk with dreams, knew I'd make it to the top.Now I wonder: which is the right path? The roads are now too foggy,the starting line is dim and must be thorny.(The fairytales they poisoned us withare breaking us.)I'm Icarus who flew too close to the sunand burnt his wings;the fall has broken my back and I let out a wail.My dreams—they are like a kitethat is snatched away by the windalong with the ghost of me who wants to try.They are flying high—so high—out of reach from me. - Rtr. Michelle Perera
සීගිරි කාශ්‍යපගේ වියරුව
මහා ගල හරි තදින් ඔපදාඒ මුදුනෙ මාළිඟා තනවාහෙළයෙ නාමය ලොවේ රන්දාසිංහගිර මං තැනෙව්වා බිසෝවරු රුව ගලේ අඳවාකවියො ගෙන්වා කවි ලියවලාකදිම ජලමල් පොකුණු බඳවාඅලකපුර සිරිලක තැනෙව්වා පුරා සියවස් ගණන් ගෙව්නාඅලුත් මිනිසුන් මෙහෙට ආවාසොබාදහමින් සැදුණු රජබිමකසළ කන්දෙන් වසා දැම්මා ආලකමන්දා නමින් පරසිඳුසීගිරිය ලොව පුදුම කරලූප්ලාස්ටික් කඳු මතින් වැහිලාදකින කොට හදවතම පිච්චූ වෙමිය මම කාශ්‍යප රජපුරා සුපතළ හෙළයෙ නාමයයළිත් නැඟිටිමි පළා සොහොනතදෙපළු කරනෙමි නර මිනිස් කැළ කසබු ශාපය නොවැඳි ඉන්නටයළිත් රකිනුව මගේ සිහගිරප්ලාස්ටික් කුණු ඉවත් කර දාසදා රකිනුව හෙළයෙ උරුමය - Rtr. කවීෂා හංසි
NONE OF THEM
I am not who you call a Muslim Whom you see down the street and whisper furtively among yourselves, “Terrorist” Murderous, impulsive Blinded by hate and a fierce devotion to merciless religious rituals, crying, “Purge this land of unbelievers” I am not what you call a Hindu Worshipper of idols, self-appointed overseers of birth and caste, In an effort to placate pagan gods; Or diligently watch the stars and moon; Content to leave my life to the mercy Of unknown elements. But neither am I what you call a Christian Exclusive, selfish but condescending, All for show Barring our doors to those that need us the most; “For the good of us all” you say. Then pass by with a…
What’s in a Name?
World, I need you to know That it was not my place to decide To whom I should be born Nor my first name Nor my family name Nor my class Nor my creed “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet” The bloom of the wild And the bloom of the slum Would still smell as sweet as The rose in the Queen’s bouquet, The bees will testify So, keep your rancid wreath to yourselves. I only pray that your poison ivy hate Would not strangle the musk red bloom; Who is far prettier than you Rtr. Hiruni Hitihamu
කවි සිත්තරුන්
කවියො කියන්නෙමසීමා විරහිත සිතුවිලිකාරයොන්ටරාමුවෙන් එහා සක්වලපමණ ඉක්මවා සක්මන් කරනඋද්ධච්ච හිතලුගොන්නකසාඩම්බර හිමිකාරයොන්ටවිශාදය වැළඳුණු කවියෝබෙහෙතට ගන්නෙ පෑනසුදු හිස් පත්ඉරු වලඅකුරු රටා මවනෙකයි උන්ට උරුමකවියෙක් කියන්නෙමඕනෑවට වඩා හිතනෙකටදරන්නම බැරිව පිපිරෙන්න එද්දිසීරුවට පන්හිඳ දිගේදියවෙන්න දෙන එකට… - Rtr. හිරුණි අත්තනායක
Where I believe life is most humane
I take pictures of most random thingsat the most random momentswhere I believe life is most humane:My coffee cup on a random daywhen the foams looknothing like how it was yesterday;When a bird flies across the same gentle breeze that caress my skin;Colors and texture of my paint palette today.To think that this exact momentwill never really have a tomorrowmakes me want to hoardeven the simplest of moments.Have I finally become attached to lifeor still trying to belong somewhere? - Rtr. Michelle Perera
Seasons and Friends
This is the story I wanted to tell, I named it Seasons and Friends.
ලෙන අතහැර යෑම
තම මව්පියන්ගේ වෙන් වීම හේතුවෙන් තමාට මුහුණ දීමට සිදු වූ ඛේදනීය ඉරණම පිළිබඳ සිංහ සීවලී කුමරිය මෙලෙස මාධ්‍ය ඉදිරියේ අදහස් දැක්වුවාය.