A gentleman was he
Before he could know the intrigues,
Conceits and conspiracies of Indian politicians
And the whispers of them
Held on the terrace
And into he streets
As for coming to power,
sitting on chair,
Which you could never.
Unknowingly and unaware of
They called you a driver,
But you were not,
A pilot officer,
Handsome and sober,
Good manly and polite,
This we have but to admit of
Even if criticize they.
Entertaining the Sri Lankan affairs,
You committed a blunder
And it cost your life,
Bright career and future,
A victim of domestic hullabaloo
And political vendetta,
so noble and gentle he
Could not understand
The gravity of the situation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem