The Crimson Sky of Palitha Ranatunga
On September 26, 2015, relatively hitherto unnoticed poet Attorney Palitha Ranatunga invited me as one of the reviewers of his second book of poetry in English “The Crimson Sky- The Consumed Quota of Life,” at the National Library Services and Documentary Board Hall. The chief distinguished critic was the bilingual and one of the finest prose writers in the country, the indomitable Prof. Carlo Fonseka.
The book of 49 poems in 84 pages was published by the Partridge Publishing Company of Singapore, and priced at U.S. $ 14.
The title of the book speaks of what the poems are all about - highly philosophical and of multi-disciplined nature. His previous book of poems “Shifting of my Paradigm” was of similar kind but with slight variations.
He is also a Nature Poet, of Wordsworth kind to say, but profoundly concerned of the environment as he is a promoter of protecting the preservation of the green
Before I value his service to literature, I request you to read the blurb at the back cover where the publisher brings out the essence of his poems in brief and exactitude. I avoid retelling in view of the exigencies of space.
Let me now excerpt some of his poems which drew my attention, primarily because of the freshness and new turn of phrases. I always prefer new interpretations rather than the worn out clichés and hackneyed usages. The extra vigour of his style of writing, I believe, is in his understanding of his mother tongue Sinhala and the Buddhist religious culture he belongs to. One may say he is an Existentialist of the western orbit and yet an orientalist rooted in his own soil.
He is also a Nature Poet, of Wordsworth kind to say, but profoundly concerned of the environment as he is a promoter of protecting the preservation of the green.
The underlying features in almost all his poems are felt experiences expressed in his own inimitable style.
I shall now give samples of his poems which were to my liking. Look at the title poem which is put at the end of the book.
The second stanza sums up his yearnings which is positive and characterizes one of the qualities of a most poets - dreaming. Here are the relevant lines: “The crimson sky paints
the contentment Of the evening, do not fear the falling night The night invites me to the dreams
Embracing emancipation of a Contented and well behaved life.”
The poet, as if he is at the end of his life, writes in the 8th and 9th stanzas as follows:
“Hence, this may be last Crimson sky, I lay feebly like a
Vegetable, I cannot look up, But feel the most beautiful sunset,
When the sunset, it paints The desolate sky with the most
Beautiful crimson colour, Hence, I bow down and farewell Mother Nature with all gratitude The Sun, Moon and the Stars, Lake And the Sea Shore, Green Wilderness And amazing harmony
of lives within it”
In the poem titled “Abortion,” I like the following for its comparison, and the censure of their God. “Their sins are respectable And unquestionable The tradition
They have Worshipped for their own benefits Is a flower basket on a Well covered sewage pit I am one of the virgin mothers Who tempted by a sincere embrace For a wink of second,
I was vulnerable, Oh! Why their God had acted In such a hurry in his so called Graceful process of creation”
The poem “The Civil Act” which reflects the poet’s inner lamentation also drew my attention. It reads as follows: “What is beyond this optimum? Can I not stop this flowing second? Sweetness of moaning pulses Of stars uncounted glimpses Set fire to every red cell circulating. The abundance of love overflowing, Has driven away the repulsion And the sickness in the stomach The continuing stamina is emerged As another deep sacrifice in heart, The palpitations that
have not arisen From the primordial animal instincts The fear of losing this limited harmony
The wild desire in embracing the sensation The floating seconds resting in heaven, Animals cannot play such tones Harmonized with blood red roses It’s the man made art of war Throughout the generations Deviating from primary forms”
The lines in the poem “The Kashyapa of Seegriya” brings out something special as it reads as follows: “The history is the deeds of man But not a manipulation
by fake historians Disgracing the greatness
with great lies”
The poet uses a lot of paradoxical incidents to show the different slices of life he has witnessed with people, nature and animals convincingly.
Looking further, we notice in the poem “The Perfect Love” striking similes like this in the following stanzas: “I dreamt in the night, embracing
Your heart Crying indeed for nothing, may be
The sweetest odour of your soul Pierced in to my bones Like the freezing wind Blew at snow capped mountains Like those picturing in a movie” “My love was with perfection
Of womanhood That had been created by me Indy dreams far from
The reality of life Hence I am at the window Looking at the dark night Painting a symbol of perfect love That could never have been existed.”
Finally, I like the whole of the poem titled “My Love.”
Let me quote it in full: “You have to catch m inward eye When I throw away the sorrows of life The entrance to the cave of eternity
With eternal happiness of nullity When thou weep in deep thinking of me My dumbness gives you enlightenment The life ahead will lead to prosper, The way I lead my life rich with kindness Simplicity and contentment Find you the pathway to success Shall change your destiny to real Come, grab my hand and be independent Temples, shrines and candles useless But give you the false hope for the future, Past, present and future is the same The difference is in you,
fading your body From youth to death unto nothingness But brain has no limits it never fades With growing confidence in truth Fights confidently until the end, like a warrior Dies without leaving the battle field.”