Wash from our bodies the painted hues of parties,
Let Diyawanna’s waters rinse us clean.
We have watched too many hollow spectacles—
Let us turn our faces and refuse them.
Lay aside caste and color, if only for a moment,
For our Motherland, Sri Lanka, is fading—
Come, give her some care before it is too late.
Without you, who will guard Mother Lanka?
Without her, where would we call home?
Strangers eye our shores with hungry gaze;
We must not sell our soil at a foreign market.
If we squander time and heed not our land,
We alone will bear the bitter price.
Without you, who will guard Mother Lanka?
Without her, where would we call home?
We are trapped in snares of our own making—
Now is the hour to break them free.
For the sake of those not yet born,
For the future’s children, let us stand as one.
Only united can we shield this island’s heart.
Without you, who will guard Mother Lanka?
Without her, where would we call home?
Wash the colors from your skin in Diyawanna’s tide,
Leave the false shows to the wind—
Rise, for this land needs hands, not slogans.
Stand together, steady and kind:
Our islands’ breath, our shared home, depends on you.
Without you, who will guard Mother Lanka?
Without her, where would we call home?
