Dance With Gypsies 1 Lyrics by Gypsies

Stay a little, don’t run off with your hair coming undone, are you leaving, my darling?
Stay a little, don’t run off with your hair coming undone, are you leaving, my darling?
I would love so much, together with my sweetheart, to go down into the water and swim
I would love so much, together with my sweetheart, to go down into the water and swim
And while we are swimming, to kiss your lips

Samanala Kanda (Butterfly Mountain, Sri Pada) appears, the light shines over Samanpura
In the moonlight I look toward the great forest, and meet the white silver peaks
Samanala Kanda appears, the light shines over Samanpura
In the moonlight I look toward the great forest, and meet the white silver peaks

On that great courtyard, people bow at the lotus of the sacred footprint and come back crying “saadhu”
On that great courtyard, people bow at the lotus of the sacred footprint and come back crying “saadhu”
That is the sound of the bell ringing, on this holy full-moon day…
On this holy full-moon day…

Awaken… (awaken) awaken… (awaken)
Awaken… and behold the splendour of dawn
Awaken… (awaken) awaken… (awaken)
Awaken… and behold the splendour of dawn

The sun rises and brings with it a spreading glow of radiance
Your sky glows in many colours, behold the splendour of dawn
Your sky glows in many colours, behold the splendour of dawn

Let us go down into the lake, swim, and break off the water lilies there…
Break off the water lilies there…
Come, my Kamala, let us go down into the lake and swim
Come, my Kamala, let us go down into the lake and swim
Let us go down into the lake, swim, and break off the water lilies there…
Break off the water lilies there…

(la la la, la la la, laa la la)

In this beautiful land of ours, the Sinhalese man,
he has fallen for the ways of the English
You wear a skirt and a gown today, not the cloth you used to,
seeing all of this makes me laugh till I could die

Oh ha ha ha ha…

Little sisters, little brothers, are you watching out there?
“I’ll come now, I’ll come now,” they say
I have brought little dolls, coloured in every shade, a whole cartload
If you want toys… come along and look for me
Cheap, so very cheap… here is a heap of toys

In the lovely evening, in the cool soft breeze,
I waited until you came
Fragrant flower, blossom of love
Fragrant flower, blossom of love
You said it, yet you still didn’t come
Where are you, my sweet?

It lights up and spreads its glow across the day, the lone wax candle
In the Buddhist shrine, the church and the devale, it creates a serene beauty
In the Buddhist shrine, the church and the devale, it creates a serene beauty
The curtain sways in the breeze… and there the Buddha’s word is revealed
In this long saṃsāra (the cycle of rebirth) our life is not lasting, alas, nothing lasts

Cups of tea grow more and more by the day, drinking them brings more comfort to the body
Cups of tea grow more and more by the day, drinking them brings more comfort to the body
Mix in sugar and milk just right, make it properly to the perfect taste
Mix in sugar and milk just right, make it properly to the perfect taste

la la la, la la la, la la la, la la la, la la la

Looking for little hidden marbles… big hidden marbles… searching for the little hidden ones
Looking for little hidden marbles… big hidden marbles… searching for the little hidden ones
Every Avurudu we go out playing, searching for the hidden marbles
Every Avurudu we go out playing, searching for the hidden marbles

She has no gold chains… she has no gold earrings…
Even without silk cloth, you are so lovely to me,
my beautiful gold-cast girl…
Even without silk cloth, you are so lovely to me,
my beautiful gold-cast girl…

Beautiful as a celestial maiden, her character and her ways so fine
Since I was a child I have been searching for my beautiful gold-cast girl

Gold blossom living in a hut… my sweet Sirimali,
hearing your sweet song again and again, I come searching, my golden flower
Your poverty is nothing, fair one, because of your truly sweet nature
Your poverty is nothing, fair one, because of your truly sweet nature
Your smiles are worth more to me… than a crown of pure gold
Your smiles are worth more to me… than a crown of pure gold

This is one of those Gypsies stage medleys, a single long performance that strings several short songs together one after another, the kind that gets a whole crowd singing along at a baila show or a New Year concert. Rather than telling one story, it moves through a handful of little scenes from everyday Sri Lankan life, so it helps to walk through them in order.

It opens playfully, a young man teasing the girl he loves as she hurries off with her hair come loose, asking her to stay so the two of them can go down to the water and swim together, with a stolen kiss in the middle of it. From there it lifts into something almost devotional. The lines about Samanala Kanda (Butterfly Mountain, the Sinhala name for Sri Pada or Adam’s Peak) and Samanpura describe the famous pilgrimage to the mountain, where people climb through the night to reach the “sacred footprint” at the summit. The “lotus of the footprint” is the holy mark venerated there, and “saadhu” is the word pilgrims call out in reverence when they reach it. The temple bell ringing on a full-moon poya day, and the call to “awaken and behold the splendour of dawn,” capture that moment pilgrims live for, watching the sun come up from the peak after the long climb.

The middle of the medley turns light and a little cheeky. One verse pokes gentle fun at Sinhalese people who have taken on English manners, swapping the traditional cloth for a skirt and gown, and the singer laughs at how far things have changed. Then comes a street toy-seller’s cry, calling out to children that he has a cartload of brightly coloured dolls going cheap, and after that a jingle about a good cup of tea, sugar and milk mixed just right, the sort of cheerful little advertisement-tune everyone knows. There is even a verse about hunting for hidden marbles at Avurudu (the Sinhala and Tamil New Year), one of the games children play during the season. Threaded among these is a quieter, more serious moment: a lone wax candle burning in a Buddhist shrine, a church and a devale (a Hindu-style shrine for the gods) all at once, a reminder of how these faiths sit side by side on the island, and a thought about saṃsāra, the endless cycle of rebirth in which nothing lasts.

The medley closes on its warmest note, a love song to a poor village girl. She has no gold chains, no earrings, no silk, but to the singer she is lovelier than any of that, “beautiful as a celestial maiden,” and he has been searching for her since he was a boy. The image of her as a “gold-cast” flower, a golden blossom living in a humble hut, says everything: her worth has nothing to do with money. Her poverty means nothing to him because her nature is so sweet, and her smile, he says, is worth more than a crown of pure gold. After all the jokes and jingles, the medley leaves you on that tender idea, that real beauty and real worth are found in goodness, not in gold.