Seetha Irthuwa

Keeping the days upon my fingertips every day,
I count them, and close my eyes,
in the cold season, with a trance of teardrops,
from the verses of love’s past,
for a single instant, I smiled

Rolling up the tearing, tender dreams,
and in a hidden, moist glance too,
there was truly nothing else to find
but love,
if every story that begins
must have a stopping-place,
then, leaving that place behind,
I bound myself to you

In every kindness that flowed between us,
you too held a fondness,
the way it came from a distant day,
a weave smeared over with hurt,
if every story that begins
must have a stopping-place,
then, leaving that place behind,
I bound myself to you

A bittersweet, wintry love song about choosing love even while knowing it must end. The singer counts the days on his fingertips, closes his eyes, and in the cold season, through a trance of teardrops, reads back the verses of love’s past, and for just a single instant, he smiles. Memory brings one flicker of joy inside the sadness.

The heart of the song is a quiet realization. Rolling up his tearing, tender dreams, looking into a hidden, moist glance, he found there was truly nothing worth finding but love. And then its central idea: if every story that begins must have a stopping-place, an ending, then, setting that ending aside, he chose anyway, I bound myself to you. He loved knowing full well it would close.

The last verse turns to her. In every kindness that passed between them, she too held a real fondness; it came from a distant day, carrying a weave smeared over with hurt, love already threaded with old pain. And still the refrain holds: knowing every story must stop, he set that knowledge aside and bound himself to her regardless. Sung by Denister Liwera, composed by Tharindu Damsara to words by Ruhunuketha Dhammadewa Thero, it is a tender, cold-season song about loving fully and deliberately, even in the certainty that it will one day end.