They shot you in your car, They shot you in your shoes, They made you pay your dues: They got you Kadirgamar! Their name you made it mud, Their pride was burst by you, Their ambitions you slew; Their aim was now your blood! Your cause you served it well, You soldiered till the end, Non-violence to defend, Your glory will now swell! Your death brings no sorrow Yours was the way to go!
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.