Thursday, October 17, 2013

කවි දෝසි | Ten Thousand Poems - [Sindusara Munasinghe | සිඳුසර මුණසිංහ]

If I create 10,000 poems,
my room and the halls
would be filled with paper,
And the roof would break
and shatter the windows,
fill the city and break someone’s clan,
fill up the country and takeover the lakes,
cover the rivers,
cut down all the trees,
stack so high and touch the sky

Filled with poems,
it would reach in space,
reach mars,
take all the planets and connect them,
break all the spaceships,
and fall down
covering the entire North America,
making a bridge to Asia,
takeover half of Russia

And after a few minutes
the world would be covered in papers,

If that happened…

The globe would be gray,
from all the papers,

I used…

Sindusara Munasinghe | සිඳුසර මුණසිංහ

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

කවි බූන්දි | 1983 - [Afdhel Aziz | අෆ්දල් අසීස්]

There is great sadness
in this July night
the crash of sea surf
the echo of the late train

a shawl of white cloud
a Muslim moon in the east
under the roofs of houses
the innocent sleep tensely
sweltering in the humid heat
waiting for the dawn

when another day comes
when more hate is spawned
then the fear shall spring
then the hate will rise
the light of intolerance
comes to once smiling eyes

then the mobs shall run
then the fires will burn
the innocent will stand helpless
nowhere to turn

I will look for my mother
in a hustling crowd
and she will call my name
in a voice scared but firm

I will be driven through
the dry burning streets
watching through the rear window while
a policeman beats a looter,
who writhes on his knees
sick with the pain

The sirens will wail
long into the night
whilt I listen to their sounds
wide-eyed and awake
watching the fan thrash overhead

And neighbours will run
under cover of dark
to hide in friend's house
clutching their lives in their hands

faded photos in silver frames,
passports and money
children asleep in their arms
too sleepy to understand

The phones will ring
flat voices will threaten
and the children will sleep
uneasy in their beds
harsh voices in their ears
flames in their heads

Years later, I will remember these things
on a hot July night
hearing fragments of voices
wondering when the spark will
ignite again.

[China Bay Blues | 2003]

Afdhel Aziz | අෆ්දල් අසීස්