Speechless crows

Even just now
in the Pettah
there are crow eggs
in Jam, Bo and Kottamba trees
bursting

when the young come out
are crows with response ready  
to questions they will surely ask?

Mother takes broom in beak
sets out at dawn
sweeps the roads
large compounds
and vast gardens
but however much she strives
strangely do the cruel leaves
descend on the morrow

tomorrow too 
she'll take flight
'Mother, why can't we
just go somewhere
to a small garden
of our own?"

On Malwatte Street
Father sells necklaces and rings
stainless steel
thorn-cut wings 
break off and fly
throughout the day
his soles swell come evening
as we watch
why can't we too
be like the golden oriole 
like the blue-breasted dove?

Even just now
in the Pettah
there are crow eggs
in Jam, Bo and Kottamba trees
bursting

as for the questions they will ask
are parent-crows equipped 
with ready response?

[translation of "කපුටන්ට කෝ උත්තර?" from the collection "මීළඟ මීවිත" (The next wine) by Ruwan Bandujeewa]

Silk Road

In neither East nor West
of a silk-clad silk-worm 
that came along the Silk Road
there's no mention,
but why?

At the bottom of boiling pots of water
dead young worms disintegrate
the screams of the dying at scorching 
as splendid silk does rise

An orphaned baby worm
never having dreamt of silk
among the dark mulberry bushes
curls up against the cold

[translation of "සේද මාවත" from the collection "මීළඟ මීවිත" (The next wine) by Ruwan Bandujeewa]

The Aukana replica on Bauddhaloka Mawatha

In these regions resides not

an errant prince 

who his father buries alive

for refusing to reveal 

where the royal riches were kept

no, just kings who calls on sons

divides wealth as fit

In that vast conference hall

where the kala wewa ought to have been

international book fairs - exhibitions and sales - beautiful dances

passionate debates among ancient seers

of philosophies numbering sixty two

theatre - skincare — cookery demonstrations

like the five blossoms sway

Every now and then arrives someone looking for true image within a replica

tarries a moment or two seeking to detect in replica an error

someone who hasn’t seen original is by replica pleased

original and replica in identical pose remain

[Translation of Ruwan Bandujeewa's poem "බෞද්ධාලෝක මාවතේ අවුකන අනුරුව" in 'මීළඟ මීවිත' (The Next Wine)]

Residual Hills

Filling eyes with a gaze

strolling across the plains

and in solitude murmuring

are residual hills

of clouds unconcerned 

[translation of "ශේෂ කඳු" from the collection "මීළඟ මීවිත" (The next wine) by Ruwan Bandujeewa]