Aatha Paawela Lyrics

Drifting far away,
where has my heart gone?
Intoxicated by her graceful beauty,
by her fish-shaped eyes,
why did she cast a spell on me,
wounding the feelings in my heart?

In the flower-season the flowers drip honey,
in the month of Il the dew comes bathing down,
the blossoms give off spreading garlands of light,
through a rain of flower-arrows I came,
sensuous

In a sensuous dream-mansion,
this heart of mine dissolves,
wrapped in the cool shade of a flood of sweetness
in the risen, flower-laden hour,
the light of the young sun comes flowing,
and the song of life is sung, entwined
sensuous

Into the empty spaces of the heart,
she adorns it just as the heart desires,
spreading nets of golden light
truly I lived in a rapture,
sweetened, through the three watches of the night before

Even on a thread of breeze, your feelings are felt in my heart

I will be there always, in your calm gaze,
my eyes anointed with the balm of delight,
becoming an unheard song, I will murmur, spellbound,
filling the heart with sweetness

Wrapped in a veil of cool mist,
I will come to you, fully,
from the far reaches of a dream,
hidden from everyone’s eyes

Drifting far away,
where has my heart gone?
Intoxicated by her graceful beauty,
by her fish-shaped eyes,
why did she cast a spell on me,
wounding the feelings in my heart?

In a sensuous dream-mansion,
this heart of mine dissolves,
wrapped in the cool shade of a flood of sweetness
in the risen, flower-laden hour,
the light of the young sun comes flowing,
and the song of life is sung, entwined

In a sensuous dream-mansion,
this heart of mine dissolves,
wrapped in the cool shade of a flood of sweetness
sensuous

This is a lush, sensuous love duet, a sringara song in the classical Sinhala manner, where love is painted as intoxication and dream. The male voice opens adrift: his heart has floated far away and he cannot tell where it went, drunk on the woman’s graceful beauty and her fish-shaped eyes, the old image for long, lovely almond eyes, and he asks why she bewitched him and wounded the feelings in his heart. Being smitten is described almost as a spell cast on him.

The imagery is all blossom and light. In the flowering season the flowers drip honey, in the month of Il the dew comes down like a bath, and garlands of light spread from the blooms; he says he came to her through a rain of flower-arrows, the arrows of Ananga, the god of love. The refrain, saraagee, sensuous, recurs like a sigh, and the heart dissolves in a dream-mansion, wrapped in the cool shade of a flood of sweetness, love felt as a place one melts into.

The two voices then promise a tender, secret devotion. She will adorn the empty spaces of his heart with nets of golden light; he will stay forever in her calm gaze, his eyes anointed with delight, becoming an unheard song he murmurs while spellbound. Wrapped in a veil of cool mist, one vows to come to the other from the far edge of a dream, hidden from everyone’s eyes. Sung by Eranga Jayawardhana and Ashwini to words by Nilar N. Cassim, it is less a story than a mood, the dreamy, delicious intoxication of two people lost in each other.