Handawa

So, because that dusk lingered near me,
the dark will only deepen, for the dread I felt is deepening too,
I shackle at my heart’s throat a whirring, electric restlessness,
and all that stays at the edge of my eyes is a river of pain

Now, you may come to know everything,
and if you wish, take from it whatever you can measure,
to paint this picture there is nothing left to take,
only, do not forget to bring a mirror

On life’s pilgrimage, when I knelt with love at an altar,
even memories can come loose, once I pressed them small and bound them into words,
because the result of fanciful love stories is so very cruel,
even a painter falls dead when he paints a picture like that

“Beloved, this begins at the very time when dreams die”

A dark, image-heavy song about heartbreak, written by the monk Ruhunuketha Dhammadewa Thero and sung by Thilan Dimuthu Rajapaksha. It opens at dusk, a lingering evening that will only deepen into darkness, and the dread the singer feels deepens with it. He describes shackling a restless, electric turmoil at his heart’s throat, and says all that remains at the edge of his eyes is a river of pain.

The middle turns to a strange, cold invitation: now you may know everything, take from it whatever you can measure. To paint this picture, he says, there is nothing left to take, only, do not forget to bring a mirror. The mirror is the twist: to truly see this portrait of grief, the listener has to look at their own reflection, their own part in it.

The last verse states the moral plainly. On life’s pilgrimage he once knelt at an altar of love; but even memories come loose once you press them into words, and the result of fanciful love stories is very cruel, cruel enough that even the painter falls dead as he paints such a picture. The song ends on the spoken line that names its whole mood: beloved, this begins at the very time when dreams die. It is a bleak, literary portrait of a love that ends where dreams do.