Ude Hawa

Morning and evening, kneeling on the ground,
it was you alone I worshipped, our mother,
amid a mother’s love, giving a father’s protection too,
it was you, our mother

Even when untimely great rains fell, bitter,
your mercy, great as Mount Meru, drinks pure and unstained,
like the earth soaking up water-drops from the sky,
turning even your blood into milk, feeding it sweet,
sowing the seed-drops, making them into pearls,
you made us, like a great tree, with your toil

Wearing the pearl-glittering crown upon the head,
did you fashion for us a king’s own reign?
creating your boundless virtues in fragrance,
day and night nestling us in your comforting embrace,
you who kept us safe then with your milk and blood,
until I reach nibbana, I will be your son

A reverent tribute to a mother who was also a father, sung by a grown child. Morning and evening, kneeling on the ground, it was you alone I worshipped, our mother; and the heart of the first verse, she gave a mother’s love and a father’s protection too. A single parent who filled both roles.

The middle piles up images of a mother’s endless giving. Through untimely great rains and bitterness, her mercy stayed great as Mount Meru and unstained; like the earth soaking rain, she turned even her blood into milk, fed it sweet, and, sowing seed-drops, making them into pearls, raised her children like a great tree, with her toil. Nurture rendered as farming, as nature itself.

The close reaches for the highest thanks the child can give. She crowned them, did you fashion for us a king’s own reign?, nestled them day and night in her embrace, and kept us safe with her milk and blood. And the deepest vow, in Buddhist terms: until I reach nibbana, I will be your son, across every remaining lifetime. Sung by Harshana Disanayake, it is a moving tribute to a mother who was both mother and father, giving everything like the good earth and a great tree, and honoured with a devotion meant to last until liberation itself.