Tribal Legacy

The misty morning unfolds the glory of the hills untold
As far as one could gaze, as green as the Horton Planes
With every ray of light breaking through the melting clouds
A breathtaking view of heaven, rarely seen by earthly eyes

I gazed at its never ending range, holding secrets of every age
Feet of tribal men must have walked every inch of this terrain
This thought did come to mind, for a decent was I to them
Their ways were to be mine, but erased with every tide of time

Hunting was their life, the hills their pride, that none dared to stride
Every shrub, every tree; lake, river and rock was their heritage
Now they are a rare site, for the heritage of Aryans does preside
The museum their legacy hold, a sanctuary has become a home.

Eroshani de Silva

Beyond the ferry of memories...

In the valley of the illusion of dreams
beyond the ferry of memories
your fascinating figure
reappearing on and off
deceived my eyes . . . and,
my complicated mind sobbed in sorrow.

My eyes wandered to and fro
in search of your absconding view
my eyes entangled in the swift wind
to bear you soft voice.
My memory in which,
sweet whims and fancies blurred in,
blamed for myself harshly . . . and
My mind determined not to think of
your affection even in a dream

You asked me to wait for you
the other day, but . . .
the haunted nights did not allow me
to be in motionless, thoughts,
drawn in the eyes - being blurred,
I remember I wished good luck
bearing the sorrow in me.
then,
Sweet buds of roses blossomed
in gay abundance
in the valley of the memories
were heard sobbing in secret.

Sudath Jayatissa Hewamadduma

The Kandy Perahara

Crack goes the ready whips
As the drummers start to play
The dancers go with the beat
The perahara's on its way
Come on out and join the fun
The perahara season has begun
Every where it's bright and beautiful
The streets are so very colourful
The whips come down so sharply
The drummers drum so readily
The dancers dance so gracefully
The spectators clap happily
Just then the elephants made their way
And every one kept staring at the one who started to sway
It seemed to like the music and wanted to play
Its trainer had some trouble to make it move away
Finally out stepped the elephant with the casket
He seemed so strong I bet it felt like a basket
He was decorated in many colours too
Red, green, yellow and even blue
Then from behind there were more drummers
And behind them came the fire dancers
They seemed not to fear the mighty fire
They just tossed it up and never seemed to tire
Some of them stood on their hands and juggled it with their feet
I was surprised to see that there were children just like me
They seemed as clever as the adults and tossed the fire about
They seemed to know what they should do and did it without a doubt
Finally it was over and we all turned to go
This was a most unforgettable show I know

Raveena Amani Weerabahu

Abuses

We speak of people highly
When they are alive
And denounce them badly
After they are dead
They are generally our masters
Because they will not do
Any harm to us now

Arul

Brighton Beach

In Scarborough is a beach resort
A paradise to make you wonder
Called Brighton Beach it languishes
West of the land down under

The rich blue sea is always bright
Sheets of white lace on azure
The surfers dot the white ray of light
That crashes on the sea shore

Yet the sound of the gentle ocean
Goes silent every once in a while
The world stands still
No waves, no surf
Just warmth to make the soul smile

The sunsets are spectacular
Where pink and blue mix sky and sea
Another day ends with renewed hope
of a new day of life for me

Perched on my balcony on the beach
I breathe in the tranquil ocean
And thank the Lord for all the peace
That I am enjoying on my vacation

I only wish things were different
On Boxing Day Two Thousand and Four
For others who lived by the sea
And trusted the ocean floor

Ruwantissa Abeyratne

The Retreat

The granite rocks stand upright and strong,
a dagoba adorns the peak of one,
fanned by a mild breeze or a gusty wind.
When evening shadows creep through the hills,
hoards of birds hover in the trees.
Their chatter reverberates,
and quieten,
then silence.

Silence of the gazing stars,
of a moon hung low in a hazy sky;
relaxed minds - away from mundane conflicts.
Minds alert to the realities of life,
meditate,
as the rise and fall of one's breath
all conditioned dhamms are transient
subject to suffering and decay and soulless.

Far into the night
the young and the old continue
to be vigilant of wandering thoughts.

The first streaks of dawn light up the heavens
amongst the hills, in the horizon.
Behold! The sacred Adam's Peak.
A fan of rays spread across the sky
in homage.

A golden glow brightens the
hills and valleys.
Another day dawns
to give way to night.

Sunila Nanayakkara

Poverty

When you are down in life,
Society shuns you;
You are looked upon as an outcast,
Friends and relatives avoid you,
Some tend to talk behind your back,
While others will laugh at your misfortune.

There are even some who will say that,
It is your 'karma'
A punishment from God,
Nobody is to be blamed, and
That, I have to fend for myself.

If there is a helping hand,
It will only be a good Samaritan.
Sometimes, one's kith and kin may assist you
in sickness or grief;
As it is they who will show you some light;
When others flee.

Yasmin Jaldin

Crossing the road

An old man, tense, stands on the edge of a kerb
Where no traffic lights blink (red-amber-green)
Wanting to go across.
But the endless stream of traffic
Does not allow him to go.
Then when of a sudden the beating pulse of autos relax,
Through that brief-held breath
He goes, safe from further threat of death-
A solitary ghost.

Patrick Jayasuriya