The Tax Poem-බදු කාව්‍යය

Posted: November 25, 2011 in Uncategorized

(මේ කවි  පෙල  අපට  ඊ මේලයකින් ලැබුනේ කලකට ඉහතය. සමහර විට ඔබත්  මෙය මීට කලින් කියවා තිබෙන්නට ඇත. ඊනියා බජට්‍ටුව් ස්පීච්චුවට පසු නිකමට පාහෙ මෙය පල කරන්නෙ වෙන යමක් ලියන්නටත් අද කම්මැලි නිසාය. )

Tax his land, tax his bed,
Tax the table at which he’s fed.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Tax his cow, tax his goat,
 Teach him taxes are the rule.

Tax his work, Tax his pay,
He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his pants, T ax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirt,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.

Tax his tobacco, tax his drink,
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his cigars, Tax his beers,
If he cries tax his tears.
Tax his car, Tax his gas,
Find other ways to tax his ass.

Tax all he has, then let him know
That you won’t be done, till he has no dough When he screams and hollers;
Then tax him some more, Tax him till he’s good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, Tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he’s laid.
Put these words upon his tomb,
‘Taxes drove me to my doom…’
When he’s gone, do not relax,
Its time to ap ply the inheritance tax

– O.M Weerasooiya


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