Poetry

May Day - Workers' Day

Originated in pagan Europe as a holy day
International working class holiday, May Day
In America not on overly prominent holiday or festival
Has a long 'n notable history as one of world's principal festivals.

Celebration dates back to days before Christ was born
Today United States ignore historical significance of May day, stands alone
In 1880 May Day began with brutal massacre in Chicago workers demanding basic rights
Eventually over bloodshed won their humble rights with great might.

For over a century workers worldwide have celebrated May Day
With rallies, demonstrations, speeches, celebrations memorable day
They collectively express their enthusiasm, commitment, social changes 'n unity
Except United States 'n Canada May Day is recognised in every industrialised country.

May Day, Universal Workers' Day, to honour bloody struggle of working people
They respect the red-flag symbolising genuine sacrifice of working people
On this historic day may the spirit of May Day soar in every human heart
Lets feel like true children of Mother Lanka always ready 'n smart.

A public holiday in Sri Lanka, Motherland, sacred isle
Workers of all nationalities collectively commemorate not just for awhile
This significant, memorable day celebrated with unending determination
To herald an egalitarian society with broader outlook, reach destination.

Kumari Kumarasinghe Tennakoon

My brave little squirrel

You are there every morning, amidst the crows,
Feeding on the crumbs I throw,
You care not one bit, for their ugly beaks
You dare to be alone, till you have your fill,
While I wait, motionless, keeping vigil,
Till you disappear to your safe terrain,
And hide amongst the leaves,
Knowing jolly well I waited,
To protect you, lest one ugly beak,
Peck and hurt you
My brave little squirrel!

Laki Rajapakse

How great Thou art!

Lord, God! How great indeed art Thy deeds and works.
Thy wisdom limitless, yet vividly displays the greatness in Thee.
The stark wonder of the universe set in motion in all its splendour;
The majestic sun by day, the effeminate moon and stars by night,
All arrayed to function at Thy will, command and pleasure.
The blinding flashes of lightning, frightfully ferocious
And the rolling thunder that follows with intensity unfathomed,
All sing their way to Thee, their God and Maker.

The sprawling, yet untamed denizens of the wild,
The innocence of the flower, blooming in the field
And the unsullied lily, the beauty of the valley
Are all born to blush unseen, wasting their fragrance in the desert year,
Speak in unison, unending praises of their Creator God.
But the greatest of them all - when Thou made man.
The human, from dust, to thine own image and likeness.
This stands forever, Lord, the greatest of all Thy works.
Yea Lord! Thy greatest, greatest ever.

J. I. Rosairo

My sweet Niger

Niger! Niger!! Niger!!!
You left us, to come back never
We loved you so much for years long
Will not forget when you are all alone

I picked you from a bundle of ten
You were so beautiful then
Lived for years two plus ten
Breathed your last on April ten

Though you were a friend of ours
Your barking deafened the visitors's ears
Was faithful to us to the hilt
But, was a danger who trespassed at night

You fell sick and was treated well
Vets said your lungs are not too well
To save your life we had a will
But sweet Niger your life became still

We tried our best to save your life
But your fate overtook all our strife
We remember you every day
Until we meet some day

The day came to say good bye
You bade farewell filling tears in our eye
The more I think of men on earth
The more I love you even in death

J. Nagodavithana

What the Lord requires

Is it not the white flower
or any other great flower,
which is suitable for the feet of Lord?
It is not the white flower
or any other great flower,
The Lord requires is
the Lotus of the heart.
Is it the golden Konrai flower
in which the singing bees come to?
Is it the Kalpaka flower
which is not in the world?
It is not the Konrai flower
in which the singing bees come to
or the flower which does not bloom here,
The Lord requires is
the constant thought of Him in the mind!
It is the blossomed Lotus?
or is it garland of Lily flower
which is suitable for the Lord
who came as a bridegroom?
It is not the blossomed Lotus
or Lily flower garland,
The Lord requires is
the Kanthal flower like folded arms
to obey Him for His blessings!

S. Sakthithasan

The song of the sea

The sea shell is a poet
Who sings the wonderful song
Of the sea
To anyone who is willing
To listen

The sea shell is a poet
Who is dressed
In a wavy gown
To sing the song
Of the sea

The sea shell is a poet
Who sings the song
Of the sea
The place where it
Was born and bred

The sea shell is a poet
Who comes to the beach
From time to time
To sing the wonderful song
Of the sea

Nillasi Liyanage

Unity in diversity

In order to unite with one another
We must love one another
In order to love one another
We must know one another
In order to know one another
We must meet one another

Rienzie I Perera

The difference

The supermarket is full of people
Buying their goods at will
The trolleys are full of goodies
But the hearts not satisfied still

This is the scene that meets the eye
When the festive season is here
But this is only for a certain lot
That good times have come so near
Outside the supermarket
Looking longingly inside
Stands the rug seller and
her children
Indeed they look so tired
For them the times are not so good
Though the festive season is here
Only if a few rugs are sold
Will the children have some cheer
But the people with full of goodies
Will get into their limousines
Not heeding the poor rug seller
With her pleading eyes there in

Is there any use of a festive season
When the difference is so wide
Some enjoy quite over the limit
While others go for below the line

Padmini Jayasinghe

Bond to sorrow

Like the ceaseless waves crashing upon the shore,
Trying to tell us of grief,
Rising from the deep, grieving, heaving sea,
Lurks a nagging pain, with no voice;
Yet, never leaving.

This is the anguish born of separation
From loved ones,
That the All knowing one told us of,
So long, long ago.

M. B. Mathmaluwe