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-   -   Sonnet & Impermanence by R.F.A. Mendis. (http://www.tyretracks.com/stc1/showthread.php?t=496)

sriyanjay 15-09-10 06:11 PM

Sonnet & Impermanence by R.F.A. Mendis.
2 Attachment(s)

How do the flowers bloom...the tree wear leaf?
These are their treasured Secrecies.

Baffling words.
Are pinch becks of our sentiments.

Yet grief.
Is deep. So let my prayer on wings of birds.
Reach to the up most of heaven's citadel.
And fall again like embers and spent ash;
The riddles of this world I cannot tell
I am too foolish for such things: not brash.
To pride in littleness.

My bended knees.
Go down in reverence. I do not know.
What there is left for me in remnant leas.
Of pleasured times.

What breath can blow.
Me out of the reach of common touch
And question me why I did such and such?



Here is a way un cobbled...I unshod,
Would walk it wearisome--with bare feet,
Through turmoil and turbulence. Son of God,
Go with me now--and let me greet,
Pain with the balm of remembered happy things;
One flash of faith, the sooth of gentle touch,
Embalms my inmost self--The self that brings,
An end to the endless struggle for such and such--
Let me so be. Grant me a swift respite,
From penitence and penance--my sins are sore.
Consider then before you quite requite...
But help me lift from my daily task,
Show me the hinterland of heaven....
That's all I ask.

- R.F.A. Mendis -


Shall I now start a sonnet, write a rhyme,
Or dream of epics, which I cannot scan?
Not so much clever---this poor fool of Time,
Shall continue to dream Time's mortal span,
Till I should perish and dissolve in dust.
But out of memory a fire shall rise,
A bright light gleaming---the Trysted Trust,
Of gentleness, too good. To your surprise,
My whited ghost shall walk the haunted road,
With unseen hands shall take a slender grasp,
And in the shadows of bedimmed abodes,
Again, somehow, somewhere, your love I clasp...
...Alack the day! That this world gives release,
To a mind too weary, but too wont to please.

- R.F.A.Mendis -


In unmoving waters
And petrified pools
Scenic photographs
From earth to sky;
Crannied fragments
Of unstable beauty;
A Moment's stillness;
Moment less change-

Living, loving,
Looking, lingering,
Leaving, losing....
Doubting, despairing,
Dreaming, deceiving,
Decaying, dying -

The unreality of a consummated prayer ;
A tangible groan in the intangible air ;
The delusion
Of illusion

- R.F.A.Mendis. -

William Arthur........."Opportunities Are Like Sunrises, If You Wait Too Long You Can Miss Them".

sriyanj 28-10-16 07:31 PM

Mr. Festus Mendis.
1 Attachment(s)

From"Dilsiri Dassenaike" <dilsiri@msn.com>,

Thank you for inviting me to write an article about Mrs. Bandaratileka. Lets keep in touch and it could happen in the future. She was an avid tennis player and played with uncle boxer when we use to holiday at the naval base in Tricomalee.

You mentioned Mr. Festus Mendis. Around the age of 15/16 at STC Mr. Mendis with his intricate rendering of that serendipity's song "Ode to a Daffodil" by William Wordsworth(1770-1850), transported me mentally to a far away land called England, and to its North Western Lake District area and to Lake Windemere. A few years later, as a young man I had the distinct advantage of sitting on the banks of lake Windemere on a balmy summers afternoon(of course with a glass of beer) reliving that excellent and eloquent narrator guide us through, "I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, a host, of golden Daffodils; Beside the lake; beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze............" what I really enjoyed was, " Ten thousand saw I at a glance; Tossing their heads in sprightly dance." How fortunate and blessed can one be to experience such a sight. I thanked God, STC and of course my beloved Mr. Mendis. It was an eerie feeling, as I felt Mr. Mendis's very presence!

From"Bertal Pinto Jayawardena" <bertal@janashakthi.com>

This mail is to specifically thank you for the way in which you have referred to Mr Festus Mendis.

He was my uncle -- his wife was a Pinto-Jayawardena ( my dad's eldest sis) ....and as a little Thomian I was once witness to him coaching up Sriyan to deliver a prize day speech.

I will infact request my cousins in the UK -- one of them has already been copied in on this mail by you , to forward this to Mr Festus Mendis's sons, Rabin and Peter.

From"Dilsiri Dassenaike" <dilsiri@msn.com>,

Thank you so much for you email. It was indeed my privilege and absolute pleasure to write about one of the greatest men who influenced my life so positively. It was not just the Ode to a Daffodil, it was all the poems from Shelley and keats and the plays from Shakespear. Lets dwell on the Ancient Mariner. 35nos., 15/16year old Thomians hanging on to every word he utters, encompassing us in a poem that took some two weeks to finish. The Ancient Mariner is probably one of the most dreary poems one can think of. Mr. Mendis had us all enthralled in anticipation. To me he was an English Scholar 'par excellence' in fact probably one of the best, if not the best in all of Asia. We had the distinct goodluck to learn from him.

Bertal may I say that when I wrote my first email about Mr. Mendis their was something I ommited only because I did not want to get too emotional. I will do so now as I'm writing to you, a family member. When I sat on the banks of
Lake Windemere in North West England on that balmy summers day and noticed those Daffodils in the wind, Tears ran down my cheeks as I felt so privileged to be taught by such a wonderful master. I will never forget his hand waving gently from side to side, illustrating the movement of the Daffodils in the wind. Even now when I write about him it is indeed difficult for me to stop the welling of tears in my eyes. Alas! how I would give anything to turn the clock back and be taught by him again.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (originally The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere) is the longest major poem by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, written in 1797–98 and published in 1798 in the first edition of Lyrical Ballads.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner relates the experiences of a sailor who has returned from a long sea voyage. The mariner stops a man who is on the way to a wedding ceremony and begins to narrate a story. The wedding-guest's reaction turns from bemusement to impatience to fear to fascination as the mariner's story progresses, as can be seen in the language style: Coleridge uses narrative techniques such as personification and repetition to create a sense of danger, the supernatural, or serenity, depending on the mood in different parts of the poem.

William Wordsworth
I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud

First version

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

Composed, 1804
Published, Poems in Two Volumes 1807

Second version

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Daffodils;
Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A Poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

Published in Collected Poems, 1815

A hand-written manuscript of the poem (1802). British Library Add. MS 47864[1]

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