Indika

Temporary white flags have been gathered 

and yet in a corner of the mind a terrible loneliness 

when now and again the eyes close

you still come to mind Indika

Is memory amenable to cut-and-paste

of searching for ourselves over wine 

of a debate heated and yet rolled out with love

when amid cataracts lie hidden the lotus that bloomed ?

In a moment by the hands of a clock narrated

all this will come to a stop by and by 

this is known and very well too, and yet

machang, it is so hard on the heart. 

[Translation of Wimal Ketapearachchi's poem 'Indika']