The Flame of Love

Even the moonlight, when she is gone,
is warm enough to blaze,
I will not cause pain, though the vow was made,
it is an agreement that fell apart,
kindling me…

Even the falling of a breath
is another dimension of love,
at night, dreams beside her,
a whispered dalliance,
kindling me…

Even the last sigh around me
is a love-filled murmur,
in every man’s chest there lies
a strangely aching note,
kindling me…

A smouldering, poetic song about a love that keeps burning even after it has broken. Without her, the singer says, even ordinary moonlight is warm enough to blaze, her absence makes the whole world feel feverish. He will not blame or hurt her, though a vow was made and then broke apart, an agreement that fell apart. Through it all runs the refrain, kindling me, the love that will not stop smouldering.

The middle finds love in the smallest things. Even the falling of a breath is another dimension of love; at night there are dreams beside her, a whispered, intimate dalliance. Love here is not grand gesture but breath, sleep, murmur, the quiet, involuntary registers where longing actually lives.

The close widens into something almost universal. Even the last sigh around me is a love-filled murmur, he says, and then the line that opens the whole song out: in every man’s chest there lies a strangely aching note. His private heartbreak becomes a claim about everyone, that each person carries a hidden, aching chord that love sets ringing. Sung by Thiyunuwan to words by Ruhunuketha Dhammadewa Thero, it is a slow-burning song about a broken love that still kindles the heart, and the secret ache it insists we all carry.