Adara Mal Wala Lyrics by Kasun Kalhara

How can I name the colours of love’s flowers
There is beauty like that even now
There is beauty like that even now
Misty drops of dew settle over my eyes
A butterfly dream has bloomed
A butterfly dream has bloomed

The lines of the rainbow, fixed there before me
Even now this flowering heart keeps watching
Mist held still upon the breeze
With my heart cradled in one hand
My eyes secretly search for your hand
Come to me through the dark, moon-maiden

The rainbow’s shade dims from my sight
A field of jasmine, opening wide
A field of jasmine, opening wide
Cold peaks of snow, like a closing eyelid over the field
My goddess, you are more than any dream
My goddess, you are more than any dream

A young man is lost in the soft, dreamy spell of being in love, and the whole song feels like he is half awake and half dreaming, reaching for the girl he adores. He does not tell us a story so much as paint the feeling of love itself, gentle, misty and almost too beautiful to hold. From the very first line he gives up trying to put it into words: the colours of love’s flowers are so many that he cannot even name them.

The song is built almost entirely out of soft, cool images, and that choice is the point. Dew and mist drift over his eyes, a butterfly dream blooms, a rainbow hangs in front of him. In Sinhala love poetry these are the images of tenderness, not heat. The butterfly (samanalaya) stands for something light and fleeting and lovely, so a “butterfly dream” is a delicate hope of love that has just opened up inside him. The rainbow (dedunna) is beauty that appears for a moment and feels almost unreal, which is exactly how new love feels to him.

The most touching moment comes in the middle, when he holds his own heart in one hand and his eyes quietly search for her hand in the dark, then calls out, “come to me through the dark, moon-maiden.” Calling her sanda liya, the moon-maiden, is the oldest compliment in Sinhala song. The moon here is not dazzling brightness but calm, cool light that softens the night, so he is saying her face is a gentle glow that can lead him through the darkness he feels without her. The jasmine field opening wide and the cold snow peaks lying over it like a closing eyelid keep that same hush, a world that is pure, white and quiet.

By the end the dream tips over into something close to worship. He calls her dewu liya, a goddess, and says she is more than any dream, more real and more precious than anything his sleeping mind could invent. That is where the song leaves you, with a love so soft and so complete that the man can only stand in front of it, unable to name its colours, sure only that she is the most beautiful thing he has ever known.