Indika Thushara Gamage

After dark
like thunder and rain
on the side of the grave
the drumming began
...

The piece of the moon
It is my gift, at my eyes
It is blossom, in my heart
I am now thirty years old and
...

sound of the yell under the sand
and waves over the waves, blank shore
in which seagull has killed the moon
for thirsty, poor girl and white man,
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The dreams of butterflies from the clouds, falling and falling
Like petals in the falling rain with many rainbows
From the edge of the night, waiting for lovers
Fly here and there and enter into the minds in deep night
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Leaves drop to water
Sky dressed in black clothes
Birds closed eyes
Stopped singing
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Somewhere in my room she was lost
Or my room was lost in her
Now I am drawing a picture
In this twilight
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We sleep not on our beds

But we dream our dreams
We try to get harvest in
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I like to dance with butterflies
In a dark room
I like to allow them to suck my nectar
And love me and sting my heart
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The rainbow fell
the sky cries uncontrollably
someone was trampling on the deadly bamboo thorn
and my father was holding a jack fruit tree on the edge
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Butterflies sleep with fireflies head down on the mountain in the darkness
Moonlight falls to the ground in search of water in the waterless pond
Who did the abortion medicine the pregnant great forest?
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Throughout the night the smell of alcohol
Upswing and downswing everywhere

The weeping moon sprawl on the dry leaves
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I killed my friend
Can you help me?
I am in a trouble
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Take his kiss upon the petals!
And, in painting from you now
Let him to paint …
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who wounds my heart
my house is in the woods, clew;
I will not see you stopping there
my little house weeping still, inside the sleeping
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The girl who picks the moonlights
alone
wearing night bride flowers
...