They came here, drawn by love for this land,
The ancient Andhra warlocks still walk this sand.
Their homeland vast — sixty times our shore —
Yet here they wander, seeking more.
Oh Radhe! Radhe!
Across the sea, a heaven lies near,
Still they swim, still they fly, still they gather here.
The ones who live now have lost their flame,
The heroes of old — not one remains.
Oh Radhe! Radhe!
Let’s see if Lanka still has kin,
Divide the Sinhalese — tear them within.
Enemies rise in the northern skies,
Fools in the south, where wisdom dies.
The blind are walking toward their grave,
While we serve the West like willing slaves.
Oh Radhe! Radhe!
Each party takes its turn to reign,
Turning paradise to fields of pain.
They’ve sold the sky, they’ve sold the sea,
And still they call it liberty.
The crowd bows down to their chosen lords,
Their souls enslaved, their minds ignored.
Now lost in shadows, night and day,
Even love has lost its way.
Oh Radhe! Radhe!
