That shattering crack of willow on leather
crowds roaring hither and thither,
the boys in blue, gold, and black
sprinting far ahead of the pack
...
‘Twas the break of dawn
as my feet kissed the lawn.
And I stepped outside,
amidst the stillness of the tide.
...
Rail me back to Nuwara Eliya,
There's where the tea and the pears and berries grow.
There's where the streams trickle sweet in the springtime.
There's where the mist in the morning hangs low.
...
You were there
when the lights dimmed
around me and enveloped the
air into a darkness, that was so still
...
Every run you make,
Every ton that's great,
Every ball you scrape,
Every catch you take,
...
The mango tree, she
stands, so proud and tall;
reaching her branches out afar,
tempting our tongues with succulence,
...
The rain
comes pouring
down upon the roof,
rapping like hip-hop music
...
I see trees
filled with green
swaying in the wind;
like people on the move
...
Running,
hand in hand
by the open sea;
cold froth splashing
...