January 30, 2017

a farewell

on empty starless days
she treads softly on the plains
gathering folds of shadows
of  the night's velvet dress
tender is her footfall
as gentle as the breeze
as soundless as a feather
drifting from the trees

in the long sleepless dawns
when memories pool as tears
come touch a cheek, love
help broken hearts heal

January 27, 2017

ප්‍රේම කිරීම

“What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.
It was like being exhumed, I answered, and brought to life in a flash of brilliance.

What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.
It was like being seen after a perpetual darkness, I replied.
To be heard after a lifetime of silence.

What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow.
There was a long pause before I responded:
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me—said all at once.

Lang Leav

දිනමිණ, වසත් සුළඟ 24/01/2017 

January 23, 2017

ඉබ්බි- නැවතත්

කලකට පෙර මා ඉබ්බි ගැන මේ සටහන ලියා තැබුවේ සොඳුරු සරසවි නොස්ටැල්ජියාවක අතරමංව සිටිද්දීය. අග මුල නැති මතක සැමරුමක් මිස කෙටිකතාවක් ලෙස එය නොලියවුණි. එහෙත් එය පුවත්පතක පළවීමට සුදුසුකම් ලබා ඇත. මෙය දිනමිණ පුවත්පතේ පළවෙද්දී මා ලංකාවේම උන්නත් එය හැබැහින් දැක ගැනීමට නොලැබිණි. ඒ තියා ඉබ්බි ව මුණගැසෙන්නවත් කතාකරන්නවත් නොලැබිණි. අවසානයේදී ඈ දැන් රට පුරා ප්‍රසිද්ධ බව කියා ඈට පණිවිඩයක් පමණක් තබා ආවෙමි. 

දිනමිණ, වසත් සුළඟ-17.01. 2017 


January 22, 2017

පරිවර්තන දෙසැම්බර්-ජනවාරි

දිනමිණ, වසත් සුළඟ අතිරේකය 03.01.2017 

If there's empty spaces in your heart,
They'll make you think it's wrong,
Like having empty spaces,
Means you never can be strong,
But I've learned that all these spaces,
Means there's room enough to grow,
And the people that once filled them,
Were always meant to be let go,
And all these empty spaces,
Create a strange sort of pull,
That attract so many people,
You wouldn't meet if they were full,
So if you're made of empty spaces,
Don't ever think it's wrong,
Because maybe they're just empty,
Until the right person comes along.

-Ernest Hemingway

දිනමිණ, වසත් සුළඟ අතිරේකය-27.12.2016

An old man once said
the best way to forget someone
is to turn them into literature
so I wrote you into the stars
spoke you into the sunset
painted you into my poetry , and
laid your body beneath my words
but now all i'm left with
is a collection of work
that all reads the same
where every consonant
vowel and syllable
sounds like your name

- Tyler Kent White

දිනමිණ, වසත් සුළඟ අතිරේකය-20.12.2016

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

January 01, 2017

පෙනෙන නොපෙනෙන

ඔබ නොමැති පාළුව
ලා අළු පැහැති ය
සුසුමක් සේම අත ළඟ

හදිසියේ වට වැස්සට
පෙඟුණු සුදු තම්බර්ජියා මල
වෙලා ගත දැවටෙන
සිහින් මිහිදුම ලෙස

ඔබ නොමැති හිස් බව
පෙනෙන නොපෙනෙන සුළුය
එහෙත් නියතව ඇත

පොකුණත පතුළ දිලිසෙන
වරල් විහිදා සැඟවෙන
රන් මත්ස්‍ය සෙවනැලි ලෙස

photo- Udawalawe, Sri Lanka