THE VEDDAS

CHAPTER XIV

SONGS

IN this chapter we give a number of Vedda songs for the transliteration and translation of which we are indebted to Mr Gunasekara.

It will be noted that a number of the songs are variants on a common theme; with the exception of No. IV (song asking for presents), the lullabies and the song sung while plucking jak fruit, all were sung for the enjoyment they caused or the amusement they produced—that is to say we could not discover that there were occasions on which any of these songs were sung specially and exclusively. Even the sad little song (No. VII) commemorating the suicide of two women^[1], though it did not cause amusement, was by no means avoided and seemed to give a good deal of quiet satisfaction. The song sung by women to their husbands who returned empty handed from seeking honey, though doubtless sung on appropriate occasions, was also sung at other times and was considered rather a joke.

A number of the best known songs begin or end with a variant of the untranslatable lines

Ṭan ṭaṇḍinānan ṭaṇḍinānē
Ṭānan ṭaṇḍina ṭaṇḍinānē^[2].

Other songs begin with a variant of

Māmiṇi māmiṇi mādeyiyā

which may be translated

Oh great man! Oh great man! Oh great god!

or perhaps as Bailey writes

My departed one, my departed one, my god!

The following lullaby was sung at Banderaduwa by a woman called Hudumeniki to the air (No. 19) given on page 345.

I. Rō-rō-rō
Ammī mōkaṭada āñḍannē
Ammī gōsiga tēlūṭai
Ēkat nindama dīpawu dennā
Ammī mōkaṭada āñḍannē
Ammī gōnala bokkaṭayi āñḍannē
Ēkat nindama dewu dennā
Ammī mōkaṭada āñḍannē
Ammī wañdurāgē ihaṭayi
Ēkat nindama dewu dennā
Ammī mōkaṭada āñḍannē
Ammī rōsāge ihaṭayi
Ēkat nindama dewu dennā
Rō-rō-rō
Ammī kalawælta pæṭuni
Nindōṭayi āñḍannē
Nidigannā pæṭuni
Nindōṭayi āñḍannē
Rō-rō-rō
Ammā rō-rō-rō
Ammā mōkaṭa āñḍannē
Ammā dīsī nāṇḍayi āñḍannē
Ammī mōkaṭayi āñḍannē
Ammī nīdi nīdunḍayi
Rō-rō-rō ammā.

Rō-rō-rō Child, why are you crying? Child, is it for the fat of the monitor lizard? Give the whole of it (i.e. the fat). Child, why are you crying? Child, is it for gōnala yams you are crying? Give all of them (i.e. the yams). Child, why are you crying? Child, is it for the head of the wandura monkey? Give the whole of it (i.e. the head). Child, why are you crying? Child, is it for the head of the rilawā monkey? Give the whole of it (i.e. the head). Rō-rō-rō

Child, creeping child; are you crying for sleep? Sleeping child, are you crying for sleep? Rō-rō-rō Darling, Rō-rō-rō

Darling, for what are you crying? Darling, is it for bathing you are crying? Child, what are you crying for? Child, is it for sleep? Darling, Rō-rō-rō.

The next lullaby was sung by Tandi of Sitala Wanntya; we do not know whether this is the lullaby the music of which is given on page 347 (No. 34 (2)) or on page 350 (No. 34 (1)).

II. Ammīla pæṭunā
Ammī mokaṭada añḍannēn
Ammī ūyila bokkaṭayi
Ēkat nindama dewdennā
Ammī mokaṭada añḍannēn
Ammī kaṭuwala bokkaṭayi
Ēkat nindama dewdennā
Ammī mokaṭada añḍannēn
Ammī gōsika telliyaṭayi
Ēkat nindama dewdennā.

Lovely babe, what do you cry for, child? Child, it is for the uyila yam. I will give the whole of it. Child, what do you cry for? Child, it is for kaṭuwala yam. I will give the whole of it. Child, what do you cry for? Child, it is for the fat of the monitor lizard. I will give the whole of it.

These lullabies though longer than those collected by Nevill closely resemble the latter, although they do not appear to contain the jokes and intentional absurdities which Nevill considered to exist in those he recorded^[3].

The next song though not a lullaby was said to have been sung by a mother to her young children who were frightened at the oncoming of a thunder storm. It was taken down at Nilgala.

III. Æmmīnan æmmīnan
Sat mūduru kanḍīyeṭa pīṭēn
Silmān silpawanæli widinnēgi nēweyit nēwēyi
Bālāpawu dennō nam bālā paw dennō
Ayiyīnan ayiyīnan disi muduru nāgāla
Balapā gēna ēna rāga narakayi
Maya æga bawiri karanneyi
Rajawālō galgāmaṭa nuwannu dennā nam
Kodo kōdoyi mayi rājō wannila dennō
Mōba anowayi hæka nowayi īn̆dōpawu dennā nam
Ran rājō sīmālē yakkila kokkīlā sīṭīnō
Ræṭa rājjē siṭiññanni newēyit newēyī
Uḍa æñdiri wæṭīgena bin æñdiri wæṭīgena
Ēnagala malagala gala kōn wæṭennā nēwēṭ newēyī
Rajawālē galgāmaṭa numanni dennā.

Darling! Darling! There you see the wind and rain are coming down from outside the Seven Seas. See the two. See brother, thunder and lightning coming from the direction of the sea. Things are getting bad. My body is losing strength (through fear). Let us two go to the Rajawalo cave (or cave place). Ho! ho! my two princes, it is not possible to go there, stay. Oh lovely princes! in the forest are yaku and gods. Are we not staying in the palace at night! The sky is getting dark, the earth is getting dark. Are not kon fruits falling at Ēnagala and Malagala! Let us go to the Rajawalo cave.

The following "song asking for presents" was sung by a woman of Bandaraduwa to the air (No. 20) given on page 347. Although addressed to the Hudu Naena (white cousin, i.e. white woman) it was not an extemporary composition but was said to have been known to the singer's parents.

IV. Hudu nǣnī kāñdī kōlō, nīlī kōlō, rati bāḍo, higamārō wigena yannawu yannawu.
Sudumō nǣnī tǣgi bōgi dīlamu, api duwaganan yanḍō
Sudumō nǣnī elamōran nāñgāto elagini rangini wæḍiwi gena ennawa.
Api duwagena yanḍō tǣgi bogi dīlawu dīlawu.

White cousin (nǣnī), (I am) running short of betel leaves^[4] and areca nut. White cousin, give (us) presents so that we may run away. White cousin, the young (or white) younger sister of Morāne is getting hungry. Give us, give us, presents that we may run away.

The next two songs, both collected at Nilgala, were particularly popular; the first reflects the very high estimate in which a Vedda holds his wife.

V. Kæñden kæmen paṇa nōyeyi
Kæñden kæmen paṇa nōyeyi
Hīten hulagen paṇa nōyeyi
Hīten hulagen paṇa nōyeyi
Wæccēn pinnen paṇa nōyeyi
Wæccēn pinnen paṇa nōyeyi
Kuḍi peta nættān paṇa yannēyi
Kuḍi peta nættān paṇa yannēyi.

For (want) of gruel or food, the life will not depart (i.e. man will not die); owing to cold or wind, the life will not depart; owing to rain or dew, the life will not depart. If there be no wife, the life will depart

VI. Tānan taṇden tānānē
Man soñda baḍuwak dæka gattīm
Man soñda baḍuwak dæka gattīm
Mokada mokada bola kiri nænē
Mokada mokada bola kiri nænē
Ēhema kīyena baḍuwak noweyi madæka gattē bola nænē
Ara pallē tālāwē tībūnu
Dūmkuḍikkiya bōla dæk gattīm.

Tānan taṇden tānānē.

I have seen a fine thing and taken it. What is it, what is it, oh good næna? Nnæn, the thing which I saw and picked up is not one that I will mention readily. You næna, what I saw and picked up is the smoking pipe which was on that distant high ground (lit. back high-ground).

The Sinhalese do not smoke pipes, and the Veddas do not smoke at all; on questioning our informants we were told that this song was only two or three generations old and referred to the finding of a pipe dropped by a white sportsman.

The next song recorded at Bandaraduwa alludes to the suicide of two Vedda women and has been referred to already on pages 322 and 323. Only the first part of the song, containing no direct reference to the final tragedy, was taken down.

VII. Akkīnam akkīnam yanḍō wārēnan
Api dennāgē wannīlā enḍōmo nǣti
Bālanḍa yanḍowa wārē nañgā
Nañgā nan nañgā api dennāgē wannīlā
Duwagena ennan bālānḍō wārō nañgā nan nañgā
Akkī nam akkī nam maṭa bāsuru bǣrī nam bǣrī nam
Nañgā nam nañgā nam wārē nam wārē nam
Api dennāgē wannīlā wellikanḍiyēn duwagen ennan
Bālānḍu wārēn.

Elder sister, elder sister, come to go. Our husbands have not returned; come younger sister, let us go to look for them. Younger sister, younger sister, the husbands of us two are coming running. Younger sister, younger sister, come to look. Elder sister, elder sister, I am afraid, I cannot, I cannot. Younger sister, younger sister, come, come. The husbands of us two are coming running from Wellikandiya. Come and see.

The next song, collected at Sitala Wanniya, records a fatal accident while honey-gathering; a woman speaks to her sister, so that "elder brother" in the third line should be "elder sister"; "younger brother" is a common periphrasis for husband. Tantirivelo is the name of a rock-face and the "golden jewelled cord" is the liane ladder by which the honey-seekers reach the comb (cf. Chapter X, invocation No. XXVI).

VIII. Tantirivēlo baliyaṭo bāpu
Raṇ miṇi kendō gallan kiniki
Bādā dennaw mayē kiriṇ ayiyē
Apilā dennaye mallila dennaṭa
Adissi amarukamak æti mayē kiri akkē.

(At) Tantirivēlo the skilfully (or forcibly) lowered
Golden jewelled cord which is sunk from the rock
Gives an unlucky sign, my dear elder brother.
For the younger brothers of us two
There will be a sudden difficulty, my dear elder sister^[5].

The next song, transliterated and translated by Mr Parker, was collected at Sitala Wanniya where it was known only to the older men of the community. It was sung only when getting jak fruit, and though these Veddas knew the ordinary Sinhalese word for this fruit they told me it would not be used. They explained that there was only one place in their territory where there were two or three jak trees (doubtless the remains of old gardens made by Buddhist monks or recluses), that they valued their fruit very highly, and that they would not commonly speak of them by name and certainly would not do so when about to gather the fruit. In this song bo tree and moran flower are both honorific terms. This suggests that the song has magic power, so that its most appropriate position in this volume would be in Chapter VIII.

X. Mē yāmeṇ yāmeṭa mē āsaṭa wædunā
Mē Bōpata ruwala yan kenekunṭa bæhæ dinawanna
Mē moraṇ malē misak attiyen bæri nan kekkiyen bindala
Masi polawaṭa bassalā deññayi.

Here, from watch to watch, this (tree) touched the sky.
No one can cause this Bō-leaf sail to be overcome.
Having broken off with the hook this ripening flower only, if unable (to pluck it) by the hand,
Having lowered it to the earth, I will give it.

Moran appears to be mōrana.

Malē may be a poetical allusion to the fruit.

Masi polawaṭa for mahi polawaṭa, a pleonastic form, "to the earth's earth," that is, to the ground. Such pleonasms are not uncommon in colloquial village Sinhalese, as for instance, edā dawasa, "that day's day," for "that day."

The next two songs were collected at Nilgala; our informants attached no meaning to the first line.

XI. Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā
Kākurukaddē kōbeyiyā
Kudurun kudurun kiyannā
Kokkā gāleṭa wæi wælā
Mādē gāleṭa wæi wælā
Mādē gāleṭa wæi wælā
Tala piṭaṭa wæi wælā
Kōṭan damana bora waturāyi
Kāḍen paccela yak gamatō
Bīmen yannaṭa bol pini bærimæyi
Mīwāpīṭen yamu dennā
Ānē apē wannīlā
Kobbǣ wælē nægīlā
Ēkat biñdagena wæṭīlā
Kælina wælē nægīlā
Ēkat biñdagena wæṭīlā
Wælkobbǣ wæla dunna namāgena
Wewæl icagē piṭaṭa damāgena
Būlæt payiyat ina gannāgen
Pōrō pæccāt ina gannāgen
Kunu gō taḍiyā karaṭa damāgena
Kaḍiyā ballat iccara karagena
Endælu potu ban dena nayidē
Endælu potu ban dena nayidē.

Mā mini mā mini mā deyiyā.

The dove of the Kakuru Mountain is singing kudurun, kudurun. There was rain at Kokkāgāla. There was rain at Mādēgāla. There was rain at Mādēgāla. There was rain on the high land. There is muddy water bringing down logs. (There has been) a yaka ceremony below the rock. (I) cannot go on the ground as there is dew. Let us ride on the back of the buffalo. Anē! our husbands having climbed up the kobbæ creeper, on its breaking having fallen; having climbed the kælina creeper, on its breaking, too, having fallen; bending the bow (made) of wæl-kobbæ^[6] creeper, putting the canes at the back of the head^[7], taking the betel bag at the waist, taking the axe at the waist, putting the dirty monitor lizard on the shoulder, sending in front the dog Kaḍiyā, (You are) to come, they say (or he says or we say) Potubanda Nayide, (you are) to come, they say (or he says, or we say) Potubanda Nayide.

XII. Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā
Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā
Ānē āpē wannīlā
Kokkā gālē yanni dennā
Mādē gālē yanni dennā
Kokkā gālē bæri baburu
Mādē gālē bæri baburu
Kākuru Kandē Kōbeyiyā
Kākuru Kandē Kōbeyiyā
Kuṭuruṇ kuṭuruṇ kīyannā
Kuṭuruṇ kuṭuruṇ kīyannā
Tālā pīṭaṭa wæyi wǣlā
Kōṭan dāmana bora waturayi
Kōṭan dāmana bora waturayi
Kāḍen paccalayak gamato
Bīmen yanneṭa bol pini bærimæyinni
Madayā pīṭen yanni dennā
Kæliya wæla nægīlā
Ēkat biñdagena wætīlā
Kobbæ wælē nægīlā
Ēkat biñdagena wætīlā
Wæl-kobbæ wæla dunna damāgena
Wēwæl icagē pīṭaṭa damāgena
Kaḍiyā ballat iccarakaragena
Endælu potubanna nayidē
Endælu potubanna nayidē
Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā
Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā.

Ah, our husbands! Let us go to Kokkagala. Let us go to Madegala. (I) cannot go to Kokkagala. I cannot go to Madegala. The dove of the Kakuru-kanda is uttering kuturun, kuturun. There has been rain in the high land. There has been muddy water bringing down logs. There has been a yaka ceremony (lit. yaka house) below the hill. (I) cannot go on the ground as there is dew. Let us ride on the buffalo. Having climbed up the kǣliya creeper, on its breaking having fallen; having climbed up the kobbæ creeper, on its breaking too, having fallen; putting down the bow (made) of wæl-kobbæ creeper, putting the canes at the back of the head^[8]; sending in front the dog Kaḍiyā, (you are) to come, they say (or he says or we say) Potubanda Nayidē. (You are) to come, they say (or he says or we say) Potubanda Nayidē. Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā, Mā miṇi mā miṇi mā deyiyā.

All the remaining songs except the last were collected from the village Veddas of the Uva Bintenne; all are of one type and with a single exception (No. XVII) all are related to each other and to the two songs immediately preceding them which we obtained at Nilgala. No. XVII, the exception just referred to, is extremely Sinhalese in tone and thought. The gomara spots referred to are the light patches on the body, due to the attacks of a parasitic fungus, which are much admired by the peasant Sinhalese of Uva and the Eastern Province.

XIII. Kæliya wæle nægīlā
Ræṭaṭa palāgena wæṭīlā
Tunaṭiya pollat biñdīlā
Tō ya kella genun wat
Nændage pæduraṭa mangaccala
Tānanne bala tānannē
Mundi kañdupiṭa wætirīlā
Ōkaṭa widapaw kiri nǣnā
Iccata widapī icca ærē
Tombaṭa læṭṭen numāpi
Ē madi widapi mærē
Depiṭa mæṭen wilga
Peruma marāpin nǣnā
Puccā kālayi diya bonnē
Eliya pān wī ennaw nǣnā
Cappi cili bili kiyannan
Yannata nǣṭiya nǣnā
Wælkoggāyē cappigē gōtē
Cappige bittara dekama dekayi
Puccā kālā diya bonne nænā
Tan tadina tan tadinānē
Mōmiya momiyi mōmiya
Kottēkaṭa kana mē kōtā kālayi diya bonne.

Having climbed up the kæliya creeper,
Splitting it in two and having fallen,
Having broken (his?) hip and stick,
Having even brought thy girl,
Having gone to thy mother-in-law's mat (i.e. hut).
Tānanne bala tānannē.
The monitor lizard is sprawling on the log.
Shoot it dear cousin,
Shoot at the head. You will miss the head;
Incline (the arrow) towards the tail, by the ribs.
Shoot (it) in the middle; it will die.
Kill the buffalo, cousin,
Which has smeared (itself) at the pool with mud on both sides.
Having roasted and eaten (part of it) we drink water.
The light is coming, cousin,
The birds say silibili.
Must we not go, cousin?
In the bird's nest on the Wal-kon tree
There are two and two bird's eggs.
Having roasted and eaten (them) we drink water, cousin.
Tan tadina tan tadinānē.
To eat a part, having cut this and eaten (it), we drink water.

Dekama dekayi Sin. deka dekayi, two and two, or two by two. The last line appears to refer to the buffalo that was killed.

XIV. Hētan tañdinā tan tañdiṇānē
Hē kæliya wælē nægīlā
Hēken bimaṭa wæṭīlā
Hē Kokkāgalaṭa man ḍanin
Etten ipiṭa man nodanin
Etten ipiṭat man danin
Mādē-galaṭa man nodanin
Etten ipiṭat man danin
Utkirigalaṭa man danin
Etten ipiṭa mā nodanin
Etten ipiṭat man danin
Hē mandēgalaṭa man dann
Etten ipiṭat man nodanin
Waḍanā mīmā lanu bæñdalā
Waḍanā piṭin yannat bærinan
Cewaṇen cewaṇaṭa yamu dennā
Tewaṇen tewaṇaṭa yannat bærinan
Sīten sulañgin yamu dennā.

Hētan tañdinā tan tañdiṇānē

Having climbed the kaeliyawæla creeper, and having fallen to the ground from it, I know the way to Kokkagala. I know the way beyond that also. I do not know the way to Madegala. I know the way beyond that also. I know the way to Utkirigala. I do not know the way beyond that. I know the way beyond that also. I know the way to that Madegala, I do not know the way beyond that also. Put the ropes on the hunting buffalo. If we cannot go on the back of the hunting buffalo let us go from shelter to shelter. If we cannot go from shelter to shelter, let us go (exposing ourselves) to cold and wind.

XV. Ṭan ṭaṇ̃ḍinānan ṭaṇ̃ḍinānē
Ṭāṇḍan ṭaṇḍini ṭaṇḍinānē
Dīyaṭa hañḍan uḍa næmmō
Dīyaṭa hañḍayi uḍa næmmō
Cāppi cili bili kiyannē
Cāppi cili bili kiyannō
Ran kuru mūṇak peṇennā
Ran kuru mūṇak peṇennā
Hē man kavuda kiyālā
Hē man kavuda kiyālā
Etakoṭa ape ara kiri nǣnā
Etakoṭa ape ara kiri nǣnā.
Ṭan ṭaṇ̃ḍinānan ṭaṇ̃ḍinānē
Ṭāṇḍan ṭaṇḍini ṭaṇḍinānē
Dīyaṭa hañḍan uḍa næmmō
Dīyaṭa hañḍayi uḍa næmmō

The birds are twittering^[9]
The birds are twittering.
A golden bud face was visible
A golden bud face was visible.
I asked "Who is that?"
I asked "Who is that?"
Then (it was) that dear cousin of ours.
Then (it was) that dear cousin of ours.

XVI. Ṭan ṭaḍinānē ṭaṇ̑ḍinānē
Ṭānān ṭaṇḍina ṭaṇ̑ḍinānē
Kapuru-kandē kebeyi
Kapuru-kandē kebeyi
Kojaron kojaron kiyannē
Kojaron kojaron kiyannē
Kæwili pojja kodō kāṭa
Kæwili pojja kodoyi kāṭa
Æṭa pojjāwat kæwillaw
Æṭa pojjāwat kæwillaw

Ṭan ṭaḍinānē ṭaṇ̑ḍinānē

Ṭan ṭaḍinānē ṭaṇ̑ḍinānē

A dove of the Kapuru-kandē (lit. camphor mountain) is crying kojaron, kojaron. No one has cakes. Eat some grain.

The last three songs are evidently variants of a common theme, or perhaps of a number of common themes, for they suggest that they consist of a number of fragments strung together with little regard for their meaning. They were certainly sung for the pleasure they afforded, and perhaps the incongruity of the subjects alluded to and the abrupt way in which they are introduced amuses the audience. Nevill collected variants of fragments of these songs in the Bintenne which he definitely regards as comic.

The following is the first of these fragments:

Kukuru gâya duwa naegilâ
Ekat bindi gana waetilâ
Dânen mâden êrilâ
Mâtnini mâmini mâ mâ mâyi.

Having run and climbed up the kukuru tree
That breaking having fallen,
Having stuck in the mud up to the knee,
Mâtnini mâmini mâ mâ mâyi.

Nevill regards this as a "take off of the hymns sung by the celebrant when inspired in the worship of Kiri Amma, a Vedda form of Venus, Pattini, Parvati, or Amman," and he states that the "refrain is that actually used in her honour." Further "the kukuru tree is a prickly bush, up which no one could think of climbing, and the utter nonsense is a ridiculous parody on the hymn."

The following is given as comic by the same authority, who draws attention to "both pata pata and danni panni," being expressions coined from the sound of a heavy body falling whop, whop, or flop, flop, and pulling itself up slowly and with pain.

Kukuru kande naegilâ
Pata pata gâ gana waetilâ
Ḍanni panni gâla naegitala
Tân nan tadi tadi tâ nâ nâ.

XVII. Ayyō nǣnage dǣtē walalu gigiri dena naḍa datdeyi kiri nǣnā
Nǣnage bañdaṭa icunu gōmara petiwan gōmara icilā
Nǣnage bañdaṭa icunu gōmara mayo bandet iciyō
Nǣnaṭa bæñdapu pæṇimula ayiyō pot pæṇi kaḍā wætennā
Nænaṭa wiyapu pædura ayiyō keḷin raṭā wætīga
Kadiranwallē bæñdi wiyanē nangiyat wiyan damannī
Ætul wiyan damannī bala ætul wiyan no danna nǣnā
Piṭet wiyan damannī ele wina panan wina ennaw nǣnā
Cappi cili bili kiyanni yannaṭa nidikimidiya nǣnā
Oyē keḷalā waccō æwidin nǣndage pæduraṭa wiruwālā.

Good wife! Oh what a noise the jingling bells of the bracelet on the two hands of yours (lit. of wife) are making! There are (lit. spread) gomara spots (on my body) resembling the gomara spots on (lit. spread on) my wife's waist. The gomara spots which are (lit. spread) on (my) wife's waist (are) spread on my waist also. Oh! the thickened honey of the honey packet made up (lit. tied up) for (my) wife is dripping. Oh! the coloured stripes of the mat woven for (my) wife are gone straight. A canopy is tied to Kadiranwalla. The younger sister is also putting up canopies. She is putting up inner canopies. Oh wife! do not put up inner canopies. She is putting up outer canopies. Wife, bring white canopies and leaf canopies. The birds are chirping^[10]. Wife, rise up from sleep to go. The calves (or oxen) having come after playing in the river went to (my) mother-in-law's^[11] hut.

The last song was collected at Unuwatura Bubula.

XVIII. (1) Anḍā diya duwana māwili gañgāwē
Sorabora wilē wilpatulen enawāda
Atat damā dætaka ena nurāwā
Sālā piṭawala yak gammal
Sālā piṭawala wæhi wæhælā bora waturayi

(2) Bimin yanna bæri nan
Wadanā mīmaṭa lanu bæñdapan
Ten tedindā
Añgara næṭun naṭannō
Sellan bera pada gasāpan

(1) Oh Mawili river! whose water is flowing, making a sound! Are you coming from the bottom of the lake Soraborawila? Oh lover! who comes in two directions, having put (your) hand also (round her neck). There has been yaka ceremony at Salapitawala. It having rained, there is muddy water at Salapitawala.

(2) If you cannot go walking (lit. on the ground) put the ropes on the hunting buffalo.
Ten tedindā
They are dancing gesture dances^[12].
Play a tune on the drum (used) for games.

This song very clearly shows the composite nature of some of the Vedda songs, especially those in use among the more sophisticated groups. The first two lines of the first verse and the last two lines of the second verse are obviously related to, if they are not derived from, the invocation sung at the Kolomaduwa ceremony (Chapter X, No. XXXIX), while the first two lines of the last verse refer to harnessing a buffalo as in the preceding songs.