Richard! You are immortal

(18 March 1958 - 18 February 1990)

Time has flown-by, in the blink of an eye,
Since you were laid to rest, in that fateful night...
Over two decades, have passed, alright,
Three years added, to that era, outright...
Twenty three years, since the island lost sight,
Of a 'being' unique, brisker than mere daylight...
In a system too spiteful, to let 'butterflies' shed light;
To the flowers that blossomed, yet were scenes of trite;
Where 'you' showered warm sunshine, with your effortless might;
They couldn't watch you ripen; they were terrified with fright...
Hence, torture seemed retort, for the 'culprits' of 'crime';
Not closing at that, the 'fraidy-cats' slayed you in disguise;
Scared, you'd expose, to the world, their soiled 'peep-sites',
As they besieged, and massacred - Our very Own kind...
These were the days, fanfares of terror did take flight,
'Eighty-Nine', 'Ninety' - that frightful spell - still haunts our minds.

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Picture by Ajita Kadirgamar

Vivacious and gifted,
You were a specimen so rare...
Reciting Shakespeare,
Ever graceful, it stood your flair...
The regal black 'beard',
Added 'machismo' to your stare...
Though you never owned a posh suit;
You set example to the braggarts out there...
With the limited garb you owned,
You did much more than those who dare;
May try to equate their 'bootlegging',
To the 'ingenuity' - You held with care...
As you tinted, once dull grey skies,
In an 'orthodox' Lankan 'lair'...
The 'optimist' in you declared,
How potent could be, a 'mutineer'...

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The 'Poet' in you,
Not many knew...
Predictions flew,
Through your insight,
Like dew...
'Tamil Riots' you knew,
Would erupt and hew;
Many lives that knew,
Only the hums of blues...
As 'eighty-three' flew,
What a time, to now review;
The year that hurt - not few...
Even before they drew,
Evil signs in skies, obscure;
You foretold the tale,
Through your 'poems';
When others still had no clue...
Richard ! - That's true !
You were ahead,
Even before you grew...

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A humble 'mobike' did you bear,
Which served you then, quite fair...
As you rode to work each morning,
Returning home, when dusk did stare...
Bestowing your skills in 'Media',
Whirling 'television' into a 'rich' fanfare...
Your 'velvet voice' still echoes in ears;
Of those who once listened, with care...
Until that night, 'they' grabbed you outside;
You went home, up through those stairs;
To Mother, who brought-up her only-child,
'Impeccably'; that many couldn't bear...
The 'cowards', who could never be fair;
Paid for their crimes - God did not, them spare...
Richard ! - You are immortal !
Never shall die - a 'Man' so rare...
Richard ! - You are immortal !
Never could kill - for 'Seraphs' feel no tear...
'Happy Birthday!' - May I declare;
Sweet Prince, evermore so fair.

~ Sunalie Ratnayake.