Mitiyai Paliha Lyrics (මිටියයි පලිහ) by Somathilaka Jayamaha

The hammer and the chisel, the plane is his sword for battle,
rough and rugged in looks, the lone clamp standing by,
beds, chairs and tables, the villagers forever chatter about,
the branch-thatched carpenter’s shed beneath the banyan tree

Where the sawdust has fallen, boards scattered here and there,
crosswise and lengthwise, planks cut with the saw,
tomorrow it will give a lovely sight to the eyes,
from a single plank a palace will be polished into being

Serving the whole world, by night, at dawn and through the day,
there isn’t even a single chair in the carpenter-master’s own house,
though life is spent in hardship, from one meal to the next,
the master of the shed always smiles just the same

This is a warm tribute to the village carpenter, the wadu rala, and to his humble workshop, the wadumaduwa, thatched with branches under a banyan tree. It lays out his tools like a soldier’s arms: the hammer and chisel, the plane that is his sword for battle, the lone clamp standing by, rough and rugged to look at. Around him, the villagers are forever chattering about the beds, chairs, and tables they want made.

The middle catches the everyday magic of his craft. Sawdust falls, boards lie scattered, planks are cut crosswise and lengthwise with the saw, and out of that mess, the song promises, tomorrow will come something lovely to look at: from a single plank, a palace will be polished into being. It honours the quiet skill that turns rough wood into beautiful things.

The last verse lands the gentle, aching irony at the song’s heart. He serves the whole world, night, dawn and day, making furniture for everyone, and yet there is not even a single chair in the carpenter’s own house. Though his life is spent in hardship, scraping from one meal to the next, the master of the shed always smiles just the same. It is a song of deep respect for the working craftsman, and for the grace of a poor man who gives comfort to others while owning almost none himself.