Kurumitto (Pawena Pirisiyak Uda Negala) Lyrics by Gypsies

Riding in on a floating saucer

Coming down here from beyond the universe
Why have you come to land, dropping down so low, little ones?

I have never once seen you before

It feels so strange just to see you there below
Let’s stop one of them and ask, these little ones

La la la….

La la la….

Where is it you come from? – We come from the planet Mars
What did you come here for? – Don’t you like that we have come?
Why are you so tiny, hello? – We may be small, but we are princely lads
Are you standing on one leg? – Shall we show you, standing on our heads?

Is there unrest and upheaval in your world? – In our world there is no quarrelling or splitting apart
How are the actors and actresses, little brother? – There, the lazy and idle hands are barren
Do you have dancing and singing there? – Is that a burden for us, like it is for you?
Then will you sing us a song? – Let’s sing, let’s sing, those are easy things

How many hours make up a day there? – There are eight, but that same time is for work
Are there strikes and threats there? – We have no false noises of grumbling and complaint
Is it the same place for the women there? – They know their proper place
Don’t you want to stop here a while? – For the worthy, a worthy place is never lacking
We won’t hear any more details – If we get caught, we won’t leave without saying so
We can’t give you leave to go – Are we mad? We’re off now, cheerio

This is one of those playful, tongue-in-cheek Gypsies songs that you cannot take too seriously, and that is exactly the point. It imagines a flying saucer drifting down out of the sky, and out of it step the kurumitto, the “little ones,” tiny visitors who have come all the way from beyond our universe. The whole song is a comic back-and-forth between us, the curious people of Earth, and these small aliens who have just landed. One side asks questions, the other side answers, and the fun is in how the answers quietly poke fun at us.

At first it is all wonder. The singer can hardly believe his eyes, so he suggests they stop one of these little creatures and ask it a few things. From there the song turns into an interview. We ask where they are from, and they say Mars. We ask why they are so tiny, and they fire back that they may be small but they are princely lads, even offering to stand on their heads to show off. The cheekiness is part of the joke, these little visitors have more pride and good humour than we expect.

The clever part is how the questions turn into a mirror held up to Sri Lankan life. When we ask whether their world has unrest and upheaval, they answer that there is no quarrelling or splitting apart where they come from. We ask about strikes and threats, and they say they have none of our “false noises of grumbling and complaint,” a clear dig at the strikes and protests of life down here. We ask how long their working day is, and they say eight hours, but unlike us, every one of those hours is actual work. Even the line about the women knowing “their proper place” lands as the kind of dry, slightly mischievous social commentary the Gypsies were known for. The aliens, it turns out, run a tidier, more honest, less noisy world than ours.

The ending is the best joke of all. When the Earth people try to keep the little ones from leaving, the aliens basically say, are we mad? and zip back off into the sky with a casual “cheerio.” Beneath all the silliness about Martians and flying saucers, the song is gently laughing at ourselves, at our strikes, our complaints, our quarrels, by pretending that even creatures from another planet are too sensible to want to stay. It is light, funny, and very much meant to be sung with a grin.