Punsanda Eliyai Lyrics (පුන් සඳ එලියයි) by Latha Walpola

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

Glinting through the strands of golden stars,
a canopy of cottony cloud
La-lai-lai, a canopy of cottony cloud
Glinting through the strands of golden stars,
a canopy of cottony cloud
La-lai-lai, a canopy of cottony cloud

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

Nestled close to its mate,
the koel calls out, koho, koho
La-lai-lai, it calls, koho, koho
Nestled close to its mate,
the koel calls out, koho, koho
La-lai-lai, it calls, koho, koho

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

On a bed of mango leaves, where sweet mangoes ripen with their honey spots,
a pair lies sleeping
La-lai-lai, a pair lies sleeping
On a bed of mango leaves, where sweet mangoes ripen with their honey spots,
a pair lies sleeping
La-lai-lai, a pair lies sleeping

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

There’s full moonlight, and a soft breeze blowing
Flowers, flowers, the scent of flowers
This is the great royal court of Ananga (the god of love)
Flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows

This is a love song dressed as a picture of a moonlit night, the kind that paints a whole world before it says a single thing about feeling. The singer sets a scene: a full moon overhead, a soft breeze drifting in, and the smell of flowers everywhere. It is a garden at night turned into something almost sacred, and the words carry you into it slowly, one sense at a time, the light, the air, the scent.

The key image is the line that calls this “the great royal court of Ananga.” Ananga is another name for Kama, the god of love in the old tradition, the one who carries a bow strung with flowers instead of arrows. So when the song repeats “flowers, flowers, the flower-arrows,” it is telling you that this whole moonlit, fragrant night is the god of love holding court, and the flowers are his weapons. Their scent is what does the wounding. It is a graceful, old-fashioned way of saying that everything about this night, the moon, the breeze, the blossoms, is conspiring to make hearts fall.

Then the song lifts its eyes to the sky and finds tenderness even there. Through the scattered golden stars, a soft canopy of cottony clouds spreads out like a ceiling stretched over the lovers, the night itself tucking them in. The koel, the koha whose koho-koho call every Sri Lankan knows as the sound of spring and longing, is shown here nestled close against its own mate, singing not from loneliness this time but from being together. The bird’s contentment mirrors what is happening below.

That is where the song finally lands, on a bed made of mango leaves, under a tree where ripe mangoes are already showing their sweet, honey-coloured spots, a young pair lies asleep together. The lilting “la-lai-lai” runs through it like a hum of pure ease. The mangoes ripening overhead say it without saying it: this is the season of sweetness and fullness, and these two have found their place in it. What you are left holding is calm and warmth, a night so gentle that love feels less like a storm and more like falling asleep in the open air, safe under the moon.