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A soldier’s wife weep    Kamal Wijeratne Last Saturday when you went back from leave I watched until you disappeared over the bend and long after; Until my breast gave a great heave, And lit the lamp before the Buddha and prayed no end.   On Wednesday when the crow cried on the dead branch And the sky colored over with the colour of charcoal I had no fears, I knew you were safe I had your horoscope read and there were no malefic   But on Thursday when they bore you home I did not know what to believe, what to think It was as if I had slept a long sleep And saw things in a haze between life and death.   Was it on Saturday that we bathed together at the village well And you boy like threw stones as the sneering frogs And drank deeply of the scent of the giant palm That had ominously broken in the splendorous fragrant flower?   Looking back now I seem to see things I never saw before The way you hung behind me touched m y hair The way you leaned against the door And watched me a

You are the mother    By Mahagama Sekara   He pressed his knees on the velvet smooth ground And worshipped the place Where his mother lay buried There had sprung a flower White and nameless Which he kissed bowing his head   You are my mother who carried me in the womb   For about ten months And bought me into the world   You are the mother who With endless suffering nurtured me in this world You who, having boiled the leaves of the sweet potato And sprinkled salt and mixed in coconut Fed me when I cried in hunger You got up early in the morning And cooked the snack to be sold in the bar And with those small profits clothed me You oiled my hair and Hung the panchayuda around my neck Took me by the hand And brought me to school   You walked through bushes thorny and wild Brought the rushes and dyed them red and green Wove fancy patterned mats and Taught me in childhood itself that this universe has a pattern   I did not know, mother Your body was a mirror Which reflects m