Sihina Dew Duwe Lyrics by Milton Perera

Goddess of my dreams, in all three worlds
I know only one name for you,
and that name is love.

The moon has its dark spots, the flower hides its thorns,
but there is nothing I can hold you up against,
your name is love.

Bathing you in sandalwood water, laying my hand on your brow,
saying I am here beside you, writing it in my own blood.

To the name Kalyani I bring a love like nectar, I will offer up the bond of my life as worship.
In whatever birth I have ever taken, through all of saṃsāra (the cycle of rebirth) I am yours.

Let the final moment come, may you be close beside me then.
Let me burn away without any fire, and let the memory of you stay even there.

A man is speaking to the woman he loves as if she were something holy. He calls her the goddess of his dreams, and across the three worlds (a Buddhist way of saying everywhere that exists) he says he knows only one name for her, and that name is simply love. From the first lines you can hear that this is not an ordinary crush. It is closer to worship, the way a devotee speaks at a shrine.

When he reaches for the usual things a Sinhala song would compare a woman to, he turns them down on purpose. The moon, which is the standard image for a beautiful face, has its dark marks. The flower, the other go-to, hides thorns. He is saying that every perfect thing has a flaw, so none of them are good enough to stand next to her. She has no equal, and the only word that fits is love. It is a quiet, clever way of placing her above the whole stock of romantic imagery.

The middle of the song turns into something like a ritual. He washes her with sandalwood water and rests his hand on her forehead, the gestures of blessing and devotion, and then he names her, Kalyani, and says he is writing all of this in his own blood. That is the heart of it. His love is not for this lifetime only. He offers the bond of his very life as an offering, and through all of saṃsāra, every birth he has ever taken and every one still to come, he says he belongs to her.

It ends where such a love can only end, at the last moment of life. He asks that when that moment comes she be right beside him, and that he be allowed to burn away with no fire needed, carried off by love itself, with her memory still with him on the other side. What the listener is left holding is the size of the promise. This is not a man asking to be loved back. It is a man vowing that nothing, not death, not rebirth, will ever loosen what he feels.