Sengawila Alu Yatin Lyrics by Sunil Edirisinghe

Rising like an ember from beneath the ashes,
o flower of the desert that burns the heart in a smoulder,
the life you taught me before you departed
made a heap of memories, you, my heartbeat

We built a golden cage, to travel a distance together,
to keep our happiness there, we lifted a great weight,
by fate’s mockery, though you died before me,
it is not you alone who died, my heart died too

To the corner of my weary eyes, teardrops rise,
I feel like coming to find the place where you are,
I search for room to fly free,
the children in the nest we built are sobbing

Your fragrance lies scattered through the nest,
the love you gave, drawing close in a sigh, is felt,
in loneliness and emptiness, the darkness burns the heart,
I feel like coming to find the place where you are

A devastating lament sung by a man for his dead wife. She rises in memory like an ember from beneath the ashes, a flower that still burns the heart in a smoulder; and the life you taught me before you departed has left him a heap of memories. He calls her, simply, my heartbeat.

The middle is the shared life they built and fate destroyed. We built a golden cage, to travel a distance together, lifting a great weight to keep happiness in it; but by fate’s mockery, she died first. And the line that holds the whole grief: it is not you alone who died, my heart died too.

The close is unbearable, domestic loss. Teardrops rise at the corner of weary eyes, and I feel like coming to find the place where you are, a longing to follow her in death. The children in the nest we built are sobbing, her fragrance still scattered through the home, her love still felt in a sigh; and in loneliness, the darkness burns the heart. Sung by Sunil Edirisinghe, it is a profoundly moving widower’s lament, a father alone with grieving children, his own heart dead alongside his wife, wishing only to reach the place where she has gone.