Even after eleven years, the time has not yet dried up.
Even after eleven years, the time has not yet dried up.
When Valli and Deivanai the friends gathered at the shrine of Kandhan, who was riding a silver peacock, waiting for the blessings.
On the road Nallaithirunagar he came to erase our burdens.
The country was shaken by the sight of the child, with longing in his eyes.
Even after eleven years, the time has not yet dried up.
Having suppressed the pulse of youth,
a wise child was born.
He fought with death to conquer Bharat, dying of hunger.
In our land, a faceless mullet,
made a fierce struggle on the Kandhanavel road.
A breeze blew with the white smile that resides in the sweet mouth of the innocent kid.
Even after eleven years,
The times when the moisture has not dried up are still here.
The sky split and rain poured down.
An attempt to quench the earth’s thirst.
Pain flowed in the longing eyes that surrounded it.
The great soul that squeezed its soul and poured oil to protect the light of national liberation.
That thin body lay motionless.
That sweet smile also faded.
That beautiful heart began to beat.
The sowing of fire on the surface of the heart that had dripped moisture.
That great soul that squeezed its life
suppressed life…
sowed fire.
The fire of freedom!
The fire of freedom in the hearts that had broken their eyelids and cried!
The fire of freedom that burned that day!
Even today, within us… The times that stand outside of us, the food that was sown that day.
Even when I think of it today, my heart is wet!
My eyes are wet too!
Like the time left in the forest with my eyes closed,
We are dizzy.
The confusion of not knowing the path?
You who held hands and showed the path
And dissolved in front of me like a lamp!
Have you merged into the minds of Tamils?
You have blossomed as the address of freedom!!
- Jaya
(Translation by Kaanagan)
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