Sandak Awith

Straining honey-wine into my cupped hands,
holding the three watches of the night like a memory,
how is it a moon came here and stayed?
so then how can you leave, without a kiss?

Wrapping my eyes in a smile,
tangling up my path in a conversation,
how am I to break my trance and keep my vows?
so then how can you leave, without a kiss?

Night passing into night, one night now lost,
kissing the bed still warm with your comfort,
how much longer am I to bear it?
so then how can you leave, without a kiss?

Like cool water in a pool,
like nectar-pollen in a desert stream,
how did such peace come to rest in a heart?
so then how can you leave, without a kiss?

A tender, sensuous love song built on one repeated, pleading question: ithin numba sipa noyinne komaa, so how can you leave, without a kiss? The singer, cupping honey-wine in his hands and holding the long night’s three watches like a memory, marvels that a moon came here and stayed, the beloved arriving like moonlight, and cannot fathom her leaving unkissed.

The middle is the sweet helplessness of being smitten. She wraps his eyes in a smile and tangles his path in a conversation, and he asks, only half seriously, how he is meant to break the trance she has put him in and keep his composure when she is near. Every verse circles back to the same disbelief that she might go without a kiss.

The last verses deepen into longing and wonder. Night passes into night, one already lost, and he kisses the bed still warm with her, asking how much longer he can bear the wait. Then the loveliest image: like cool water in a pool, like nectar in a desert stream, how did such peace ever come to rest in a heart? Sung by Wasantha Jayasekara, composed by Tharindu Damsara to words by Shalika Dissanayake, it is a warm, yearning song about being enchanted by someone and unable to accept their leaving without one last kiss.