Mandasmathika Premaya Lyrics by Vindula Attygala

My love, if it must be so,
then go, take your leave,
what I need is to be alone,
alone with myself, for a moment,
one evening

At midnight, pouring the wine, stirring up your own heart,
by your naked flames of fire, I find my peace,
whether owned or unowned, in the season of love,
carefully I will set the wedding-garlands down, upon the poruwa

Keeping only the smile, and bolting shut the little room of the heart,
I will dissolve the pain, lingering in the smoke between two lips,
whether owned or unowned, in the season of love,
setting the wedding-garlands alight, I will place you, upon the poruwa

A strange, beautiful and philosophical love song whose central gesture is a paradox: a request to the beloved to leave. My love, if it must be so, the singer says, then go, take your leave, because what I need is to be alone with myself, for a moment, one evening. It is not rejection; it is the rare, difficult wish of someone who has half-vanished into love and needs, just once, to find themselves again. To love, the song suggests, is almost to lose yourself, and only in the beloved’s brief absence can you measure the size of the space they fill.

The imagery is nocturnal and burning. At midnight, as the beloved pours wine and stirs her own heart, he finds his peace by her naked flames of fire; and, whether owned or unowned, in the season of love, he says he will carefully set the wedding-garlands down upon the poruwa, the ritual place of union. Love here is held with great tenderness and great detachment at once.

The close is its boldest paradox. Keeping only the smile and bolting shut the little room of the heart, he will dissolve the pain in the smoke lingering between two lips; and then, in a startling final image, setting the wedding-garlands alight, I will place you upon the poruwa, union and immolation fused into a single act. Sung by Vindula Attygala, composed by Tharindu Damsara to words by Nayomi Sakunika, it is a haunting, literary song about a love so consuming it becomes almost a loss of the self, and the quiet, radical request to be left alone for one evening in order to become whole again.