Kotu Kali Soyala Lyrics

Searching for little sticks,
bringing dried leaves,
laying them down in neat order,
building a small bird’s house,
building a small bird’s house…//

The mother bird who was in the nest,
look, she has flown away…//
The tender little ones grow excited,
over there they sing and dance their festive songs.

Searching for little sticks…/

The baby birds look on,
chirping away, they cry…//
At the sound, oh little children,
that tiny one is frightened.

Searching for little sticks…//

This is a gentle little nature song, the kind you could sing to a child, about a pair of birds building their nest and raising their young. It watches the whole thing happen up close, the way you might if you stood quietly under a tree and noticed a bird at work. There is no heartbreak or longing here, just the small wonder of life going on in a branch above your head.

It opens with the birds gathering what they need: little sticks, dried leaves (parandel kola, the brittle fallen leaves you find on the ground), all set down piece by piece “in rhythm,” meaning carefully and in order, until a small nest takes shape. In Sinhala the nest is called a “kurulu geya,” literally a bird’s house, and the word choice is tender, it treats the nest as a home, not just a clump of twigs.

Then the song moves into the warm part of the story. The mother bird, the kirilli, lifts off and flies away for a moment, and the tender little chicks in the nest grow lively and proud, almost as if they are celebrating. The line about singing and dancing “mangul gee,” festive or wedding songs, is the writer’s playful way of describing the chirping racket of baby birds, as though their constant noise were a little celebration of its own. The chicks peep and call, “kichi bichi,” the Sinhala for that small chirping sound.

The last turn is the sweetest. A sudden noise startles the nest, and the singer speaks softly to the children listening, “oh little ones, that tiny one is frightened.” It is a quiet lesson in being gentle, hush now, you have scared the smallest bird. What you are left with is something simple and warm: a small home built with care, new life inside it, and a reminder to move softly around the fragile things of the world.