Rain-forested peaks rise to kiss the clouds,
Great rivers wander, flowing in every direction.
In secret caves, sages dwell in silence,
Guardians of the hidden powers of the universe.
This is the paradise isle—
Its forests breathing the air that sustains mankind.
O Plata, Sandara, Arittha,
Shiva, Vessavana, Vishwadeva!
The palaces of ancient Hela were carved of moonstone,
Gleaming bright beneath the silver night.
Dumbara’s streets glowed with living light,
Reflections cast by nature’s hand.
King Harishchandra, in ages past,
Forsook his throne to live as a hermit in Madhyadesa.
And here, throughout the lunar month,
Every breath drawn is blessed, life-renewing.
O Nashatya, Sahadeva,
Sumalin, Malyavan!
The proud Rakshasa kings of Okkaka’s clan once ruled.
The Yakshas, keepers of vast knowledge,
Held wisdom deep as the endless sea.
The mighty ships of the Naga tribes
Fortified the island, guarding its seas on every side.
We—the Sinhalese—are the very breath,
The living heartbeat of the Indian Ocean.
O Ganesha,
Lord of Kataragama,
Great Mahadeva of the Moriya clan!
