Dandelion

The sky has turned to fire,
dry leaves scatter in the autumn,
dreams have been buried,
youth made barren

Circling the autumn sky,
above the deodar trees,
if the blowing wind should need them,
the dandelion seeds
with wishes fastened to them
will be tossed up to the sky,
a dying flower
that granted wishes

Ash-grey dreams
smeared with rainbow colour,
if only they do not blur away,
on the day love’s sun rises,
dandelion,
the fresh wishes
have all come true

A wistful, image-driven song that uses the dandelion, whose seeds scatter on the wind, as a symbol for wishes released into an uncertain sky. It opens in autumn desolation: the sky has turned to fire, dry leaves scattering, dreams buried, youth made barren. It is a season of endings, the ground from which the wishes must somehow rise.

The central image is beautiful and self-sacrificing. High over the deodar trees, if the blowing wind should need them, the dandelion seeds, with wishes fastened to them, are tossed up into the sky. The flower that lets its seeds go is a dying flower that granted wishes: it gives up its own life so that the wishes can fly and, perhaps, take root elsewhere.

The close holds a fragile hope. If only the ash-grey dreams smeared with rainbow colour do not blur and fade, then on the day love’s sun rises, the dandelion’s fresh wishes have all come true. Sung by Imaya Perera to words by Najath Akram, composed by Tharindu Damsara, it is a tender, hopeful song about scattering your wishes to the wind like dandelion seeds, and trusting that, come the sunrise of love, they will bloom.