Akalika Sanda Eliya

In an aeon like hundreds of centuries, like thousands,
fish-eyed one, my sanctioned, sacred beloved,
laying me down on a bed of a thousand dreams,
the night, following your memory, kindles me

A wave of smiles, a glaring look, a thousand reactions,
your sleepless love, watching from behind,
in the dense dark of the stars, comfort me in all of this, dear friend,
keeping me in sleep, sleep on yourself, o moonlight,
timeless moonlight

In an evening, an hour when the moon-mansion fills with autumn mist,
come, to fill the honey-goblets and set them on the table,
now it cannot be so, I know it, o deer-eyed one,
curl up in the cold and sleep, I wish you sweet sleep,
timeless moonlight

A tender, dream-steeped love song that stretches love across cosmic time. The singer addresses his fish-eyed one, his sanctioned, sacred beloved, and speaks of an aeon like hundreds of centuries, like thousands, love measured against vast stretches of time. Laid on a bed of a thousand dreams, his night is kindled simply by following her memory.

The middle is all small remembered gestures, a wave of smiles, a glaring look, a thousand reactions, and the sense of your sleepless love, watching from behind. He asks her, in the dense dark of the stars, to comfort him; and, calling her timeless moonlight (akalika sanda eliya), he tenderly tells her to sleep on while she keeps him in sleep too, love as a gentle, watchful presence through the night.

The close is quiet acceptance of loss. He imagines an autumn evening when the moon-mansion fills with mist, and wishes she would come to fill the honey-goblets and set them on the table, to share an evening together. But then, plainly: now it cannot be so, I know it. So he simply wishes her rest, curl up in the cold and sleep, I wish you sweet sleep. Sung by Akash Sachinthana to words by Rev. Gurugoda Siriwimala, composed by Tharindu Damsara, it is a serene, wistful song about a timeless love now out of reach, offered nothing but a tender goodnight.