Mage Divi Pana Nala Rakinne Lyrics by Rev. Fr Shamindra Jayawardena

The one who guards my life and my very breath
is you alone, Jesus, all through my life you are
the light, and my refuge in every evil

When my hopes for life have withered and blur away,
why do you fall silent, why grow mute?
Come, I pray, drawing hope into my heart,
your touch is felt, and joy overflows

To whom else but you would I ever go, my Lord?
You alone are my future refuge, never any other
you did not lay down the weight of the cross and retreat,
my life is your courage, always

In the hour the soft light of the autumn moon streams down,
I rest, content, in your fellowship
remembering how all my life you were my joy,
I linger there among the light of your eyes

In your company, my Lord, such comfort, such relief,
never found in the company of anyone else
I am not alone on this desert road of life we walk together,
soothing my weariness in your warm embrace

Like the waves that strike the shore as the sun goes down,
drawn to you, my life is given its savour
becoming a cluster of flowers blooming at daybreak,
swaying in the breeze, wrapping around the body again

This is a rich, poetic hymn of intimate devotion, sung by someone for whom Jesus is quite literally the keeper of life itself. It opens with total dependence, “the one who guards my life and my very breath is you alone,” and names him “the light, and my refuge in every evil.” Everything else in the song grows out of that closeness.

It does not hide the hard seasons. When “my hopes for life have withered and blur away,” the singer even dares to ask God why he seems absent, “why do you fall silent, why grow mute?” But the complaint gives way to a plea and then to relief, “come, drawing hope into my heart,” and at once “your touch is felt, and joy overflows.” The famous question of Peter to Jesus echoes here, “to whom else but you would I ever go?” There is simply no other refuge. And the singer draws strength from the fact that Christ “did not lay down the weight of the cross and retreat”, he saw his suffering through, and so “my life is your courage, always.”

The later verses turn tender and beautiful, full of natural images. In the streaming “soft light of the autumn moon,” the believer rests “content, in your fellowship,” lingering “among the light of your eyes.” He declares he is “not alone on this desert road of life,” his weariness soothed “in your warm embrace.” The closing images are lovely and hopeful, life “drawn to you” like waves to the shore at sunset, and “becoming a cluster of flowers blooming at daybreak.” What the listener is left with is the picture of a whole life leaning on Jesus, questioning him in the dark, resting in him in the moonlight, and finally blossoming in his presence like flowers at dawn.