Saliya Alaya Lyrics by Sunil Santha

In this hopalu forest,
that forest-goddess who makes the hopalu blossoms bloom,
is that you as well, my girl?
I offer my love upon the altar of your beauty, young maiden

Do not run away in fear, stop, beautiful, doe-eyed darling
come, grow warm and content in the firm, tender touch of my hands
pure as milk, spotless as blue-lotus flowers,
give me the honey of love-blossoms from your golden lips, and comfort me, dear

What use to me are the throne and jewelled crown of the Hela land, without you?
your little watch-hut is a kingdom to me, let us go there, my bride,
wearing garlands, bathing and swimming in a river of kisses,
I find peace, casting off impermanent royal comforts, wearing the crown in the world of love

Why does your rising breast tremble, is it with fear, my darling?
I will join it with my chest, and then the fear will settle
come, my flower-garland, be soothed, be cradled on my lap
from today and for always, Saliya belongs to you, through this samsara

Do not speak to me any more of caste, my Rodi Queen
the most fragrant blue-lotus flowers bloom forever in the rotting mud
showing the power of pure love, fearlessly I cast caste and lineage into the wind
I will come with you to the outcaste village, my own outcaste queen

Saliya’s love will live in the world to come, age upon age, on the lips of the people
I will not bind with you in secret; you are my rightful queen
I do not want the crown of Lanka; wearing instead the crown of comfort in the world of love,
uplifting all beings, I will reign there, I together with my Rodi queen

This song retells one of the most beloved and radical love stories in Sri Lankan tradition: that of Prince Saliya, son of the great warrior-king Dutugemunu, who fell in love with Asokamala, a woman of the Rodi caste, the lowest and most despised group in the old social order. Rather than take the throne that was his birthright, Saliya gave it all up to marry her. The whole song is his voice, wooing her and defending their love.

The opening is pure tenderness. He finds her in the “hopalu forest” and wonders if she is a forest goddess, offering his love “upon the altar of your beauty” and coaxing her, “do not run away in fear,” to come and be warmed in his arms. Then comes the line that reveals everything: “what use to me are the throne and jewelled crown of the Hela land, without you?” Her simple watch-hut, he says, is a greater kingdom than any palace, and he would rather cast off “impermanent royal comforts” and wear “the crown in the world of love.”

The heart of the song is its fearless stand against caste, and it uses the perfect image to make its case: “the most fragrant blue-lotus flowers bloom forever in the rotting mud.” Just as the pure lotus rises out of the mire, worth and beauty have nothing to do with birth. So he tells her plainly, “do not speak to me any more of caste, my Rodi Queen,” vows to “cast caste and lineage into the wind,” refuses to love her in secret, insists she is his “rightful queen,” and promises to go and live in her outcaste village as its king. What the listener is left with is a story the song itself predicts will endure “age upon age, on the lips of the people,” a prince who chose love over a crown and, in doing so, declared that no human being is high or low by birth.