‘ere the clan could perish
a firefly voluntarily
into a cobweb flew
The breeze an arm stretched out
to a rose bush landed a blow
‘twas the dew and not flower
that was thrown first and first to fall
The lovely dew-laden idda
milk-white in morning visitation
to the cemetery delivered,
a honey-bird to rest retired
[translation of "අන්ධකාරයේදී" from the collection "මීළඟ මීවිත" (The next wine) by Ruwan Bandujeewa]
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