Where swifts fly

Where swifts fly and dodge at unseen insects at the thinnest, narrowest part of the road

Where beach and lagoon both erode

Where swole of water swale of breeze

Blow steadily more or less 

Of a morning's orange sun

Where sounds of the Murugan Kovil in Thiruchendur Village fade and blend 

With songs of the Mamangam Kovil

deep in Batticaloa town

Where clouds may tower or flit like sprightly puffs

And distant mountains appear or disappear in the smoky mist

Where fishermen organize or sit or sprawl or smoke or stand by their motorbikes or glide in on their motorbikes or drink a tea or spit or pull or shove or check or gossip or watch watch watch watch watch 

Watch that sea as if they are a part of it.