Buttercups under the flamboyant trees beside the lake
The old ferryman waits at the river bank
for passengers?
But only one he sees
A lass with a cane basket,
Who believes that his old fiancee's
eldest daughter?
In this off season no more buttercups
But the old flamboyant trees still stand
They only know their past friendship.
Though he grips the oars well
Yet he couldn't hold the ancient faded love?
[One does not pour new wine into old skins.]-Jesus
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My school is far and the river is deep?
Loose leaf book and the pencil
Old thatch school
Not friendly with the boy
When his father's lying on his sick bed?
He grips the rickety oars
and join the ferry
to earn for the family.
In the deep river when he sees the crocodiles
He murmurs; ' Yo all are my friends
and tomorrow I'll bring you something to eat.'
But he knows the rice bin was empty at all
and the crocodile would be angry
Remember once the Headmaster's cane
for telling a small lie in school?
for Nightmute in gratitude!
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The grass roots writer in a search of a mystique river's depth
Here quietly she flows like a country lass.
Sometimes she changes her colors as a lizard.
He knows that she hides so many secrets.
What happened to the newly-wed Ferryman's eldest son
And the blacksmith's triplet daughter,
Were they drowned or committed suicide?
Their pledge still echoes in the thick forest
And he's very inquisitive to catch the inarticulate dialects.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The blind flower-seller
With the cane basket
and the white cane
She comes to the Sunday market
Sitting on the small bench
She sells different colors of flowers
Though she cannot see
By each fragrance of them
She knows the name and the pedigree too?
And I sniff a rare fragrance while passing
that comes from her hidden little-heart flower?
to my deceased poet friend Paddy Martin!
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The hidden song in the black river
Every year there are about fifty or more victims; They drowned and never returned.
Where you hide them in your precious muddy bottom?
I see the old ferryman and his blind dog cross the river and I wait at the bank to hear more news of the missing souls.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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If somebody knows who takes his last breath?
He will get panic
and no more time to think of loved ones.
Breath fast to gather more air
and he sees the ferryman is waiting afar
to cross the river.
His song echoes; 'my dear you cannot postpone
this journey, get ready soon
and I have to come back for the others'.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Swansong
A poor ferryman is crossing the quiet river
and suddenly she changed into a whirlpool.
The swing bridge is in full swing
with the east wind
and the fading twilight sky
looks like a watercolor painting.
I can hear the ferryman's whimper
who hides at all.
A dealer, poor girl's money lending uncle
who takes her cunningly to a Manor for housekeeping.
I read the ferryman's teary eyes
where it stuck the hidden words there.
'Be careful my little red riding hood
when sweeping the garden
specially under the thorn-bearing trees
don't be in barefoot.
I am waiting for you my sleeping beauty
and whatsoever I promise you to marry
in the next equinox'.
To the poetess Amanda.Lukas
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Unconditional love
Her name is time,
And she said; ' I love you so much but I cannot wait and I am running.'
Then I said; 'My name is life and I too ran but I couldn't hold you.'
'Time is a cruel lass.' Wind murmured in a lonely night.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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That train was ready for departure
Young and old passengers
with their heavy bags
jumped into the compartments.
And he's alone
A small haversack
on his back.
Somebody checks his season ticket
And an argument with the conductor?
He explains it's an old used ticket;
But the poor fellow grumbles
That he's never been to anywhere
in his lifetime?
[Always consider yourself a first-class citizen of the world.No one deserves better treatment than you.]-Dad
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Moon in the lake dances with ripples?
'May the poor find wealth; those weak with sorrow find joy.May the forlorn find new hope, constant happiness and prosperity.May the frightened cease to be afraid, and those bound be free.May the weak find power, and may their hearts join in friendship.'-The Dalai Llama
Young ferryman's straw-house
by the lake
unbolted bamboo door
rattles to the Eastern wind.
He peeped through the broken window
and saw moon dances with ripples in the lake?
His memories dragged to his sad past.
Poor drunkard Tinsmith's beautiful wife and daughter
drowned in this lake on a full moon.
And if that tear dropp hidden in his eye speaks?
Certainly it's deep the tale
Like the haunted lake?
*The barley field's mealy mouthed midwife rumoured around the villagers the deceased were pregnant?
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Ferryman and His Blind Dog!
Villagers were certain that he died a long ago
But I met him last night at the river bank.
Though his dog's blind wagged its tail
While I was talking to ferryman.
He said the Blacksmith his old friend has borrowed the ferry
To bring his forgotten tools but he's scared
Whether he could row safely to this side
As the weather was not so good?
Then I said I am going back home
And he gave his kind regards to my parents.
On the way I realized that my parents were no more
And all were in the same boat!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A blind Gypsy and his piccolo
He pitches a higher octave the inner song of desperation
While his fiancee on picnicking with her violin.
She fiddles to another heart a different tune
And the blind sees her secret whereabouts.
* I love you and hope you love me
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance.
-Evita, Don't cry for me Argentina-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Scattered Dew Drops On The Sleepy Grass!
Hey! You hear the secret cries of the pale blue sky
In the morning she pretends nothing has happened
in the previous night.
The tear drops certainly disappear in the Sunrise
And my little orphan girl don't get tired with your cane basket,
Leave the dew aside and collect few flowers for the altar!
She cannot speak but her depressed eyes talk?
'Flowers too wither Grandpa! '
Her gloomy eyes murmured like a sinsong
And the gravedigger hugs her thinking of his far away grand daughter!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Chimes of twilight
Chrysanthemums are flowering in autumn and the faded leaves of flamboyant trees blown with the autumn winds.
The time has come to whitewash the churchyard tombs and I can hear my chum's silent song like a chirping.
A far smoke is carrying off from a chimney.
This gloomy evening an old lady is picking some fallen leaves in the garden and the sun's last light focused on my window.
Suddenly I closed as the mosquito soldiers try to invade my room.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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My Snake-Kite rushes to fly in Summer breeze?
I chopped a Bamboo tree
by the river side
and made you beautiful
to flee?
Pasted the multicolored
Chinese fabric on your
light framework
and I have a magical
spun cotton thread
that could be stretched
up to heaven!
Go as much as you can
But do not hit the Sun?
Wag your simple rattling tail
and speak to the Venomous World
Your innocence & the chastity!
That you're harmless
As a lass!
[Consider the postage stamp; its usefulness consists in the ability to stick to one thing till it gets there.]-Josh Billings
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Swimmer and a Crocodile
He wants to cross the river
But the ferryman is nowhere
The notice says Crocodiles and beware!
Swimmer in a clue.
An old crocodile came
And tears in its eyes.
'I was watching since in the morning
And I am so sorry,
Believe me I am a different one
Always help others
And if you don't mind
I can give you a ride
Before it gets dark.'
'I too scare of darkness
And I love rides but not in a rough weather uncle.'
Swimmer replied.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hey Montana
Hey Montana take your daughter back
From the bathrooms evangalist bound
She believes in destiny
Her name's always misspelled
Waitressing to pay the rent
Drinks to quell the smell
Of people breathing way too close
Folks who don't mean well
[CHORUS]
No one sees the color of your eyes
No one sees you smile
No one knows the secrets that you hide
No one sees you cry
She parks her car two blocks away
From apartment 15A
She walks with somber in her step
And scores along the way
Lose your hue you tiny thing
Dropping patron's wine
Singing to your own sad song
Two feet stuck in the mire
[CHORUS]
Hey Montana take your daughter back
It's clear she needs your care
These bustling streets are icy veins
Of a peace who snuffs her prayer
[CHORUS]
No one sees you cry
No one sees you...
Hey Montana take your daughter back
Hey Montana take your daughter back
Please Montana take your daughter back
Hey Montana take your daughter back
Bones and the truth show through...
song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mill in ruins beside the river
A beautiful widow with a wooden bucket
Walks towards the Farmstead for milking
And the deaf Cuurch bell ringer's handsome eldest son
with a pile of books idles for the ferry.
Life is so cruel and he joins the ferryman
A teardropp falls from her luscious eye
At the ruined mill premises!
*[Is the burden so very great?
Take time to rest.
I still shall wait
Here as I promised, under the moon.]
'Peer Gynt'-Henrik Ibsen
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Tragedienne in the real Theatre
With her seven children (Except the eldest who was stillborn) she struggles by the road to success.
Her beloved husband was a missing in action and still she believes he would have come home one day with his old rusty gun and the puffy epaulettes & stars.
If the opaque curtain is lowered, dear spectator please do not think the drama is over,
Yet the act goes on without the audience.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Payroll and the obedient servant's redress
His name was not in the paymaster's list and the whole wage has deducted for his food & lodging.
Where he goes to compensate?
He sleeps under the huge thorny money tree
But the bitter fruits are not ripen yet.
Though he waits for the coming season
Yet he has to re-validate his torn season-ticket.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Mason's daughter and a Carpenter's son
Each & every muddy brick
And the wooden planks of their house
Whisper about the courageous parents
And the cottage comes up gradually.
The proud sky is bit inquisitive it seems
And the humble river says;
'Do not worry, their innocent roof won't touch and bother you anyhow.'
Big ferries cross the river with huge cranes and building materials
And the proposed 'Toy Factory' build up very soon as per the country bald-headed Mayor's election promise.
The old ferryman sings in a sad voice late at midnight;
'Hey! Dear Sons & Daughters
Definitely you all get jobs
And you meet strange faces with a new busy culture.
But don't change your lifestyle and let them burn your halcyon cottages
Those were built by your poor parents hardly.'
*Certainly the rich stormy winds ruin the bourgeoisie Folklore.
-From the poor ferryman's Scrapbook.-
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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