“Blood” Brothers or “Bloody” Brothers under the Banner

    

                                                                                     for the DEAD in the Struggle for EELAM  

 

                           by      T.Wignesan

 

 

“A dying people tolerates the present, rejects the future, and finds its satisfactions in past greatness and      

     half-remembered glory.” 

 

“A strong man makes a weak people. [A] Strong people don’t need a strong man.”

                                                                                        John Steinbeck (Nobel Prize 1962)

 

 

                          I

 

Ages from now, let it not be said:

         Blood spills only as brother dies.

Ages from now, let not peace be bled

         By chances lost now in sighs.

 

 

                                         To the high nor low slams the door

                                         To him who seeks the Law and more.

                                         Take, take the Golden Mean way!

                                         Truth your only key, don’t ever slay!

 

 

Where the elephant roams un-tethered free,

          The familiar myna will echo carefree

Words of yore buried in sacred memory:

          One breed, one species carved in ivory.   

 

                       

No greater fear simmers in the lowlands

         Than the stealth of brother against brother;

No higher disdain festers in the highlands

          Than vengeance lying in wait for the other.

 

                                II

 

 

Think not of the promises made and broken,

          Think only of the time lost and forsaken.

Every hour, every day, a life blown or taken;

         Every month, every year, a people woe-driven.

 

 

                                              To the high nor low slams the door

                                              To him who seeks the Law and more.

                                              Take, take the Golden Mean path!

                                              Truth your only key, never the lathe!

 

 

Think of Prince Paranirupasingham who to succour

        King Jayavira’s queen, to Kandy, fled his throne:

Abandoned to court intrigue, schemes and wiles encore:

        A princely retreat, a physician’s penance alone.

 

 

First governor, then regent, the last Jaffna King Cankili

     Learnt best the conqueror's cruel art of slaughter;

Then, fired by the local converts' iniquitous treachery,

     Revolted too late, his head the butt of lofty laughter.

 

 

Think of C.P. Ramanathan the island’s cause to defend

        Sailed over choppy seas past wild submarines   

To raise the nation’s flag in the court of the Empire’s den,

        His homeward chariot drawn by one peoples’ teens.

 

 

                                  III

 

 

What shame if might measures not with muscle?

          What disgrace awaits those who fail?

Should wanting life be held lèse-majesté to a tussle?

          Should a nation thrive as in a sundered jail?

 

 

                                           To the high nor low slams the door

                                           To him who seeks the Law and more.

                                           Take, take the Golden Mean road!

                                           Truth your only key, never the sword!

 

 

Decades from now sawn men will in right ask:

          Had we then no will to attend to our wounds?

Should not the White Master be called back to task

          To bear the burden of our graveyard mounds?

 

 

What guidance should wise men need

          More than their own tested counsels?

Lay, lay aside the pride of higher breed

          Like two strong men upright in councils!

 

 

                       

                                   IV

 

People are made to feel their lives rendered great

           By what their leaders do to invoke fate;

Destiny asks not who may stand in as its fated mate,

           When all around lives are lost through hate.

 

 

                                           To the high nor low slams the door

                                           To him who seeks the Law and more.

                                           Take, take the Golden Mean way!

                                           Truth the only key, no, never slay!

 

 

If the Lion strays from its prescribed domain,

          The Tiger will seek to sink its fangs in flanks.

Two kings bide their time in a land full of bane,

           While the common folk lie razed by tanks.

 

 

                                   V

 

 

Seek not to replace life with conundrums.

          Seek only a life-giving solution.

Herald not the arrival of the enemy with drums.

          Let only your heart speak in absolution.

 

 

The mountain cannot reach up to the sky.

         The lake at the summit is full.

If monsoons come, calling cranes will cry.

          Kindred spirits will rally in full.

 

 

                                          To the high nor low slams the door

                                          To him who seeks the Law and more.

                                          Take, take the Golden Mean way!

                                          Truth the only key, no, never ever slay!

 

 

Can a people simply grow strong in broken places

          While strong men before the hour vacate places?

“Man can be destroyed but not defeated.

          Man can be defeated but not destroyed.”

 

 

©  T.Wignesan  2005    -  September 21, 2005- Paris, France

 

 

 

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