CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVII.SONGS ANDBALLADS.The ordinary folk songs of the country are called sivupada and can be heard sung in a drawn out melody by the peasants labouring on their fields or watching their crops at night, by the bullock drivers as they go with their heavy laden carts; by the elephant keepers engaged in seeking fodder, by the boat men busy at their oars, by the women nursing their infants, by the children as they swing under the shady trees, and by the pilgrims on their way to some distant shrine.For rhythmic noise women and girls sit round a large tambourine placed on the ground and play on it notes representing jingle sounds like the following:—Vatta katat katat tâKumbura katat katat tâVatta katat kumbura katat katat katat katat tâ.Attaka ratumal, attaka sudumalElimal dolimal, rênkitul malRajjen tarikita rajjen tâ.Oxen are encouraged to labour in the threshing floor by songs1On, leader-ox, O ox-king, on,In strength the grain tread out.On, great one, yoked behind the king,In strength the grain tread out.This is not our threshing floor,The Moon-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floorThe Sun-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floor,God Ganesha’s floor it is.“On, leader ox, etc.”As high as Adam’s Sacred Peak,Heap the grain, O heap it up;As high as Mecca’s holy shrine,Heap the grain, O heap it up;From highest and from lowest fields,Bring the grain and heap it up;High as our greatest relic shrine,O heap it up, heap it up.“On, leader ox, etc.”The cart drivers still sing of a brave Singhalese chieftain who fell on the battle field:—Pun sanda sêma pâyâlâ rata meddêRan kendi sêma pîrâlâ pita meddêMâra senaga vatakaragana Yama yuddeLevke metindu ada taniyama velc medde(Like full orb’d moon his glory shone, his radiance filled the worldHis loosen’d hair knot falling free in smoothest threads of gold.Mâra’s host beset him—no thought was there to yield;To-day Lord Levke’s body still holds the lonely field.2)The elephant keepers strike uparustic song to the accompaniment of a bamboo whistle.Etun tamayi api balamuva bolannêKitul tamayi api kotaninda dennêRatê gamêvat kitulak nedennêEtun nisâmayi api divi nassinê.(It is elephants that we must look after, O fellows.From where can we get kitul for them.No village or district supplies us with kitul.It is owing to elephants that we lose our lives.)The following are specimens of a river song, a sea song and a tank song.Malê malê oya nâmala nelâ varenAttâ bindeyi paya burulen tiyâ varenMahavili ganga diyayanavâ balâ varenSâdukêredî oruva pedana varen.(Brother, brother pluck that nâ flower and come.The branch will break, step on it lightly and come.See how Mahavili ganga’s waters flow and come.Raising shouts of thanks row your boat and come).Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâApe delê mâluGoda edapan YâluVellê purâ mâlu.(Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâThere is fish in our netsPull it to the shore, friendsThe shore is full of fish.)“Sora bora vevê sonda sonda olu nelum eti.Êvâ nelannata sonda sonda liyô etiKalu karalâ sudu karalâ uyâ detiOlu sâlê bat kannata mâlu nẹti.(The Sora bora tank has fine white lotus flowersTo pluck them there are very handsome womenAfter cleaning and preparing, the blossoms will be cookedBut alas there are no meat curries to eat with the lotus rice).Pilgrims on their way to Adam’s Peak sing the following first verse and as they return the second.1. Devindu balen api vandindaSaman devindu vandavandaMuni siripâ api vandindaApê Budun api vandinda.(To worship our Buddha, to worship His footprint, may god Saman help us, may his might support us).2. Devindu balen api vendôSaman devindu vendevôMunisiripâ api vendôApê budun api vendô.(We have worshipped our Buddha;We have worshipped his foot print;The god Samen helped us;His might supported us).A mother amuses her children by pointing out the moon and asking them to sing outHanda hamy apatat bat kanda rantetiyak diyô diyo(Mr. Moon, do give us a golden dish to eat our rice in); or she makes them clap their hands singingappuddi pudi puvaththâ kevum dekak devaththâ(clap, clap, clap away with two rice cakes in your hands); or she tickles them with the finger rhymekandê duvayi, hakuru geneyi, tôt kâyi, matat deyi, hankutu kutu.(Run to the hills, bring molasses, You will eat, you will give me, hankutu kutu); or she swings them to the jingle “Onchilli chilli chille malê, Vella digata nelli kelê;” or she rocks them to sleep with the following lullabies:—Umbê ammâ kirata giyâKiri muttiya gangé giyâGanga vatakara kokku giyâ,Kokku evith kiri bivvâ,Umba nâdan babô(Your mother went to fetch milkThe milk pot went down the riverThe cranes surrounded the riverThe cranes came and drank the milkYou better not cry, my baby.)Baloli loli bâloliyêBâla bilindubâloliyêKiyamin gi neleviliyêSethapemi magê suratheliyê(Darling darling little oneDarling little tender oneSleeping songs do I singSleep away my fond little one.)Radâgedere kosattêEka gediyayi palagattêÊka kanta lunu nettêNumba nâdan doyi doyiyê.(The jak tree at the washer’s houseBore only one fruitThere is no salt to eat with itYou better not cry, but sleep, sleep)Vandurô indagana ambê liyannanVendiri indagana hâl garannanPetiyô indagana sindu kiyannanTala kola pettiya, gangê duvannan.(The monkeys are engaged in cutting up a mangoTheir mates are engaged in washing the riceTheir young ones are engaged in singing songs.The palm leaf box is drifting in the river.)The following is a specimen of a love song.“Galaknan peleyi mata vedunu gindarêVilaknan pireyi nẹt kandulu enasẹrêMalak vat pudami numba namata rubarêTikakkat neḋda matatibunu âdarê.(If I were a stone my passion’s heat would have split me.If I were a pond my weeping tears would have filled me.O my darling, I shall offer a flower to your memory.Is there nothing left of your old love for me).1From Revd. Moscrop’s translation of the song of the Thresher in the “Children of Ceylon”, p. 53.↑2From Mr. Bell’s translation in the Archæological Survey of Kegalle, p. 44.↑

CHAPTER XVII.SONGS ANDBALLADS.

The ordinary folk songs of the country are called sivupada and can be heard sung in a drawn out melody by the peasants labouring on their fields or watching their crops at night, by the bullock drivers as they go with their heavy laden carts; by the elephant keepers engaged in seeking fodder, by the boat men busy at their oars, by the women nursing their infants, by the children as they swing under the shady trees, and by the pilgrims on their way to some distant shrine.For rhythmic noise women and girls sit round a large tambourine placed on the ground and play on it notes representing jingle sounds like the following:—Vatta katat katat tâKumbura katat katat tâVatta katat kumbura katat katat katat katat tâ.Attaka ratumal, attaka sudumalElimal dolimal, rênkitul malRajjen tarikita rajjen tâ.Oxen are encouraged to labour in the threshing floor by songs1On, leader-ox, O ox-king, on,In strength the grain tread out.On, great one, yoked behind the king,In strength the grain tread out.This is not our threshing floor,The Moon-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floorThe Sun-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floor,God Ganesha’s floor it is.“On, leader ox, etc.”As high as Adam’s Sacred Peak,Heap the grain, O heap it up;As high as Mecca’s holy shrine,Heap the grain, O heap it up;From highest and from lowest fields,Bring the grain and heap it up;High as our greatest relic shrine,O heap it up, heap it up.“On, leader ox, etc.”The cart drivers still sing of a brave Singhalese chieftain who fell on the battle field:—Pun sanda sêma pâyâlâ rata meddêRan kendi sêma pîrâlâ pita meddêMâra senaga vatakaragana Yama yuddeLevke metindu ada taniyama velc medde(Like full orb’d moon his glory shone, his radiance filled the worldHis loosen’d hair knot falling free in smoothest threads of gold.Mâra’s host beset him—no thought was there to yield;To-day Lord Levke’s body still holds the lonely field.2)The elephant keepers strike uparustic song to the accompaniment of a bamboo whistle.Etun tamayi api balamuva bolannêKitul tamayi api kotaninda dennêRatê gamêvat kitulak nedennêEtun nisâmayi api divi nassinê.(It is elephants that we must look after, O fellows.From where can we get kitul for them.No village or district supplies us with kitul.It is owing to elephants that we lose our lives.)The following are specimens of a river song, a sea song and a tank song.Malê malê oya nâmala nelâ varenAttâ bindeyi paya burulen tiyâ varenMahavili ganga diyayanavâ balâ varenSâdukêredî oruva pedana varen.(Brother, brother pluck that nâ flower and come.The branch will break, step on it lightly and come.See how Mahavili ganga’s waters flow and come.Raising shouts of thanks row your boat and come).Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâApe delê mâluGoda edapan YâluVellê purâ mâlu.(Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâThere is fish in our netsPull it to the shore, friendsThe shore is full of fish.)“Sora bora vevê sonda sonda olu nelum eti.Êvâ nelannata sonda sonda liyô etiKalu karalâ sudu karalâ uyâ detiOlu sâlê bat kannata mâlu nẹti.(The Sora bora tank has fine white lotus flowersTo pluck them there are very handsome womenAfter cleaning and preparing, the blossoms will be cookedBut alas there are no meat curries to eat with the lotus rice).Pilgrims on their way to Adam’s Peak sing the following first verse and as they return the second.1. Devindu balen api vandindaSaman devindu vandavandaMuni siripâ api vandindaApê Budun api vandinda.(To worship our Buddha, to worship His footprint, may god Saman help us, may his might support us).2. Devindu balen api vendôSaman devindu vendevôMunisiripâ api vendôApê budun api vendô.(We have worshipped our Buddha;We have worshipped his foot print;The god Samen helped us;His might supported us).A mother amuses her children by pointing out the moon and asking them to sing outHanda hamy apatat bat kanda rantetiyak diyô diyo(Mr. Moon, do give us a golden dish to eat our rice in); or she makes them clap their hands singingappuddi pudi puvaththâ kevum dekak devaththâ(clap, clap, clap away with two rice cakes in your hands); or she tickles them with the finger rhymekandê duvayi, hakuru geneyi, tôt kâyi, matat deyi, hankutu kutu.(Run to the hills, bring molasses, You will eat, you will give me, hankutu kutu); or she swings them to the jingle “Onchilli chilli chille malê, Vella digata nelli kelê;” or she rocks them to sleep with the following lullabies:—Umbê ammâ kirata giyâKiri muttiya gangé giyâGanga vatakara kokku giyâ,Kokku evith kiri bivvâ,Umba nâdan babô(Your mother went to fetch milkThe milk pot went down the riverThe cranes surrounded the riverThe cranes came and drank the milkYou better not cry, my baby.)Baloli loli bâloliyêBâla bilindubâloliyêKiyamin gi neleviliyêSethapemi magê suratheliyê(Darling darling little oneDarling little tender oneSleeping songs do I singSleep away my fond little one.)Radâgedere kosattêEka gediyayi palagattêÊka kanta lunu nettêNumba nâdan doyi doyiyê.(The jak tree at the washer’s houseBore only one fruitThere is no salt to eat with itYou better not cry, but sleep, sleep)Vandurô indagana ambê liyannanVendiri indagana hâl garannanPetiyô indagana sindu kiyannanTala kola pettiya, gangê duvannan.(The monkeys are engaged in cutting up a mangoTheir mates are engaged in washing the riceTheir young ones are engaged in singing songs.The palm leaf box is drifting in the river.)The following is a specimen of a love song.“Galaknan peleyi mata vedunu gindarêVilaknan pireyi nẹt kandulu enasẹrêMalak vat pudami numba namata rubarêTikakkat neḋda matatibunu âdarê.(If I were a stone my passion’s heat would have split me.If I were a pond my weeping tears would have filled me.O my darling, I shall offer a flower to your memory.Is there nothing left of your old love for me).

For rhythmic noise women and girls sit round a large tambourine placed on the ground and play on it notes representing jingle sounds like the following:—

Vatta katat katat tâKumbura katat katat tâVatta katat kumbura katat katat katat katat tâ.Attaka ratumal, attaka sudumalElimal dolimal, rênkitul malRajjen tarikita rajjen tâ.

Vatta katat katat tâ

Kumbura katat katat tâ

Vatta katat kumbura katat katat katat katat tâ.

Attaka ratumal, attaka sudumal

Elimal dolimal, rênkitul mal

Rajjen tarikita rajjen tâ.

Oxen are encouraged to labour in the threshing floor by songs1

On, leader-ox, O ox-king, on,In strength the grain tread out.On, great one, yoked behind the king,In strength the grain tread out.This is not our threshing floor,The Moon-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floorThe Sun-god’s floor it is.This is not our threshing floor,God Ganesha’s floor it is.“On, leader ox, etc.”As high as Adam’s Sacred Peak,Heap the grain, O heap it up;As high as Mecca’s holy shrine,Heap the grain, O heap it up;From highest and from lowest fields,Bring the grain and heap it up;High as our greatest relic shrine,O heap it up, heap it up.“On, leader ox, etc.”

On, leader-ox, O ox-king, on,

In strength the grain tread out.

On, great one, yoked behind the king,

In strength the grain tread out.

This is not our threshing floor,

The Moon-god’s floor it is.

This is not our threshing floor

The Sun-god’s floor it is.

This is not our threshing floor,

God Ganesha’s floor it is.

“On, leader ox, etc.”

As high as Adam’s Sacred Peak,Heap the grain, O heap it up;As high as Mecca’s holy shrine,Heap the grain, O heap it up;From highest and from lowest fields,Bring the grain and heap it up;High as our greatest relic shrine,O heap it up, heap it up.“On, leader ox, etc.”

As high as Adam’s Sacred Peak,

Heap the grain, O heap it up;

As high as Mecca’s holy shrine,

Heap the grain, O heap it up;

From highest and from lowest fields,

Bring the grain and heap it up;

High as our greatest relic shrine,

O heap it up, heap it up.

“On, leader ox, etc.”

The cart drivers still sing of a brave Singhalese chieftain who fell on the battle field:—

Pun sanda sêma pâyâlâ rata meddêRan kendi sêma pîrâlâ pita meddêMâra senaga vatakaragana Yama yuddeLevke metindu ada taniyama velc medde(Like full orb’d moon his glory shone, his radiance filled the worldHis loosen’d hair knot falling free in smoothest threads of gold.Mâra’s host beset him—no thought was there to yield;To-day Lord Levke’s body still holds the lonely field.2)

Pun sanda sêma pâyâlâ rata meddêRan kendi sêma pîrâlâ pita meddêMâra senaga vatakaragana Yama yuddeLevke metindu ada taniyama velc medde

Pun sanda sêma pâyâlâ rata meddê

Ran kendi sêma pîrâlâ pita meddê

Mâra senaga vatakaragana Yama yudde

Levke metindu ada taniyama velc medde

(Like full orb’d moon his glory shone, his radiance filled the worldHis loosen’d hair knot falling free in smoothest threads of gold.Mâra’s host beset him—no thought was there to yield;To-day Lord Levke’s body still holds the lonely field.2)

(Like full orb’d moon his glory shone, his radiance filled the world

His loosen’d hair knot falling free in smoothest threads of gold.

Mâra’s host beset him—no thought was there to yield;

To-day Lord Levke’s body still holds the lonely field.2)

The elephant keepers strike uparustic song to the accompaniment of a bamboo whistle.

Etun tamayi api balamuva bolannêKitul tamayi api kotaninda dennêRatê gamêvat kitulak nedennêEtun nisâmayi api divi nassinê.(It is elephants that we must look after, O fellows.From where can we get kitul for them.No village or district supplies us with kitul.It is owing to elephants that we lose our lives.)

Etun tamayi api balamuva bolannêKitul tamayi api kotaninda dennêRatê gamêvat kitulak nedennêEtun nisâmayi api divi nassinê.

Etun tamayi api balamuva bolannê

Kitul tamayi api kotaninda dennê

Ratê gamêvat kitulak nedennê

Etun nisâmayi api divi nassinê.

(It is elephants that we must look after, O fellows.From where can we get kitul for them.No village or district supplies us with kitul.It is owing to elephants that we lose our lives.)

(It is elephants that we must look after, O fellows.

From where can we get kitul for them.

No village or district supplies us with kitul.

It is owing to elephants that we lose our lives.)

The following are specimens of a river song, a sea song and a tank song.

Malê malê oya nâmala nelâ varenAttâ bindeyi paya burulen tiyâ varenMahavili ganga diyayanavâ balâ varenSâdukêredî oruva pedana varen.(Brother, brother pluck that nâ flower and come.The branch will break, step on it lightly and come.See how Mahavili ganga’s waters flow and come.Raising shouts of thanks row your boat and come).

Malê malê oya nâmala nelâ varenAttâ bindeyi paya burulen tiyâ varenMahavili ganga diyayanavâ balâ varenSâdukêredî oruva pedana varen.

Malê malê oya nâmala nelâ varen

Attâ bindeyi paya burulen tiyâ varen

Mahavili ganga diyayanavâ balâ varen

Sâdukêredî oruva pedana varen.

(Brother, brother pluck that nâ flower and come.The branch will break, step on it lightly and come.See how Mahavili ganga’s waters flow and come.Raising shouts of thanks row your boat and come).

(Brother, brother pluck that nâ flower and come.

The branch will break, step on it lightly and come.

See how Mahavili ganga’s waters flow and come.

Raising shouts of thanks row your boat and come).

Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâApe delê mâluGoda edapan YâluVellê purâ mâlu.(Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâThere is fish in our netsPull it to the shore, friendsThe shore is full of fish.)

Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâApe delê mâluGoda edapan YâluVellê purâ mâlu.

Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâ

Tin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâ

Ape delê mâlu

Goda edapan Yâlu

Vellê purâ mâlu.

(Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâTin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâThere is fish in our netsPull it to the shore, friendsThe shore is full of fish.)

(Tan tan tan talâ mediriyâ

Tin tin tin ti lâ mediriyâ

There is fish in our nets

Pull it to the shore, friends

The shore is full of fish.)

“Sora bora vevê sonda sonda olu nelum eti.Êvâ nelannata sonda sonda liyô etiKalu karalâ sudu karalâ uyâ detiOlu sâlê bat kannata mâlu nẹti.(The Sora bora tank has fine white lotus flowersTo pluck them there are very handsome womenAfter cleaning and preparing, the blossoms will be cookedBut alas there are no meat curries to eat with the lotus rice).

“Sora bora vevê sonda sonda olu nelum eti.Êvâ nelannata sonda sonda liyô etiKalu karalâ sudu karalâ uyâ detiOlu sâlê bat kannata mâlu nẹti.

“Sora bora vevê sonda sonda olu nelum eti.

Êvâ nelannata sonda sonda liyô eti

Kalu karalâ sudu karalâ uyâ deti

Olu sâlê bat kannata mâlu nẹti.

(The Sora bora tank has fine white lotus flowersTo pluck them there are very handsome womenAfter cleaning and preparing, the blossoms will be cookedBut alas there are no meat curries to eat with the lotus rice).

(The Sora bora tank has fine white lotus flowers

To pluck them there are very handsome women

After cleaning and preparing, the blossoms will be cooked

But alas there are no meat curries to eat with the lotus rice).

Pilgrims on their way to Adam’s Peak sing the following first verse and as they return the second.

1. Devindu balen api vandindaSaman devindu vandavandaMuni siripâ api vandindaApê Budun api vandinda.

1. Devindu balen api vandinda

Saman devindu vandavanda

Muni siripâ api vandinda

Apê Budun api vandinda.

(To worship our Buddha, to worship His footprint, may god Saman help us, may his might support us).

2. Devindu balen api vendôSaman devindu vendevôMunisiripâ api vendôApê budun api vendô.(We have worshipped our Buddha;We have worshipped his foot print;The god Samen helped us;His might supported us).

2. Devindu balen api vendôSaman devindu vendevôMunisiripâ api vendôApê budun api vendô.

2. Devindu balen api vendô

Saman devindu vendevô

Munisiripâ api vendô

Apê budun api vendô.

(We have worshipped our Buddha;We have worshipped his foot print;The god Samen helped us;His might supported us).

(We have worshipped our Buddha;

We have worshipped his foot print;

The god Samen helped us;

His might supported us).

A mother amuses her children by pointing out the moon and asking them to sing outHanda hamy apatat bat kanda rantetiyak diyô diyo(Mr. Moon, do give us a golden dish to eat our rice in); or she makes them clap their hands singingappuddi pudi puvaththâ kevum dekak devaththâ(clap, clap, clap away with two rice cakes in your hands); or she tickles them with the finger rhymekandê duvayi, hakuru geneyi, tôt kâyi, matat deyi, hankutu kutu.(Run to the hills, bring molasses, You will eat, you will give me, hankutu kutu); or she swings them to the jingle “Onchilli chilli chille malê, Vella digata nelli kelê;” or she rocks them to sleep with the following lullabies:—

Umbê ammâ kirata giyâKiri muttiya gangé giyâGanga vatakara kokku giyâ,Kokku evith kiri bivvâ,Umba nâdan babô(Your mother went to fetch milkThe milk pot went down the riverThe cranes surrounded the riverThe cranes came and drank the milkYou better not cry, my baby.)

Umbê ammâ kirata giyâKiri muttiya gangé giyâGanga vatakara kokku giyâ,Kokku evith kiri bivvâ,Umba nâdan babô

Umbê ammâ kirata giyâ

Kiri muttiya gangé giyâ

Ganga vatakara kokku giyâ,

Kokku evith kiri bivvâ,

Umba nâdan babô

(Your mother went to fetch milkThe milk pot went down the riverThe cranes surrounded the riverThe cranes came and drank the milkYou better not cry, my baby.)

(Your mother went to fetch milk

The milk pot went down the river

The cranes surrounded the river

The cranes came and drank the milk

You better not cry, my baby.)

Baloli loli bâloliyêBâla bilindubâloliyêKiyamin gi neleviliyêSethapemi magê suratheliyê(Darling darling little oneDarling little tender oneSleeping songs do I singSleep away my fond little one.)

Baloli loli bâloliyêBâla bilindubâloliyêKiyamin gi neleviliyêSethapemi magê suratheliyê

Baloli loli bâloliyê

Bâla bilindubâloliyê

Kiyamin gi neleviliyê

Sethapemi magê suratheliyê

(Darling darling little oneDarling little tender oneSleeping songs do I singSleep away my fond little one.)

(Darling darling little one

Darling little tender one

Sleeping songs do I sing

Sleep away my fond little one.)

Radâgedere kosattêEka gediyayi palagattêÊka kanta lunu nettêNumba nâdan doyi doyiyê.(The jak tree at the washer’s houseBore only one fruitThere is no salt to eat with itYou better not cry, but sleep, sleep)

Radâgedere kosattêEka gediyayi palagattêÊka kanta lunu nettêNumba nâdan doyi doyiyê.

Radâgedere kosattê

Eka gediyayi palagattê

Êka kanta lunu nettê

Numba nâdan doyi doyiyê.

(The jak tree at the washer’s houseBore only one fruitThere is no salt to eat with itYou better not cry, but sleep, sleep)

(The jak tree at the washer’s house

Bore only one fruit

There is no salt to eat with it

You better not cry, but sleep, sleep)

Vandurô indagana ambê liyannanVendiri indagana hâl garannanPetiyô indagana sindu kiyannanTala kola pettiya, gangê duvannan.(The monkeys are engaged in cutting up a mangoTheir mates are engaged in washing the riceTheir young ones are engaged in singing songs.The palm leaf box is drifting in the river.)

Vandurô indagana ambê liyannanVendiri indagana hâl garannanPetiyô indagana sindu kiyannanTala kola pettiya, gangê duvannan.

Vandurô indagana ambê liyannan

Vendiri indagana hâl garannan

Petiyô indagana sindu kiyannan

Tala kola pettiya, gangê duvannan.

(The monkeys are engaged in cutting up a mangoTheir mates are engaged in washing the riceTheir young ones are engaged in singing songs.The palm leaf box is drifting in the river.)

(The monkeys are engaged in cutting up a mango

Their mates are engaged in washing the rice

Their young ones are engaged in singing songs.

The palm leaf box is drifting in the river.)

The following is a specimen of a love song.

“Galaknan peleyi mata vedunu gindarêVilaknan pireyi nẹt kandulu enasẹrêMalak vat pudami numba namata rubarêTikakkat neḋda matatibunu âdarê.(If I were a stone my passion’s heat would have split me.If I were a pond my weeping tears would have filled me.O my darling, I shall offer a flower to your memory.Is there nothing left of your old love for me).

“Galaknan peleyi mata vedunu gindarêVilaknan pireyi nẹt kandulu enasẹrêMalak vat pudami numba namata rubarêTikakkat neḋda matatibunu âdarê.

“Galaknan peleyi mata vedunu gindarê

Vilaknan pireyi nẹt kandulu enasẹrê

Malak vat pudami numba namata rubarê

Tikakkat neḋda matatibunu âdarê.

(If I were a stone my passion’s heat would have split me.If I were a pond my weeping tears would have filled me.O my darling, I shall offer a flower to your memory.Is there nothing left of your old love for me).

(If I were a stone my passion’s heat would have split me.

If I were a pond my weeping tears would have filled me.

O my darling, I shall offer a flower to your memory.

Is there nothing left of your old love for me).

1From Revd. Moscrop’s translation of the song of the Thresher in the “Children of Ceylon”, p. 53.↑2From Mr. Bell’s translation in the Archæological Survey of Kegalle, p. 44.↑

1From Revd. Moscrop’s translation of the song of the Thresher in the “Children of Ceylon”, p. 53.↑

2From Mr. Bell’s translation in the Archæological Survey of Kegalle, p. 44.↑

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