Far away are the days of our youth; Long, long ago we were young,

Fleet of foot, alert in mind,

With fluent and eloquent tongue.

Secure in our homes, steadfast in our schools,

Swiftly the years slipped away; Childhood and adulthood, with troubles and joys,

Experienced were they in their day.

Now, fading we live in a world that’s awry;

Evil throws tentacles round;

Justice has lost to dark brutal might;

The world’s in dishonesty bound.

So let us look back - name them one by one:

The people whose standards were high -

Apart from our homes in school they were found -

To them let our thoughts backward fly......

Our teachers - fashionable Vivienne de Livera,

Gentle Saba Fernando so kind,

Miss Pathberiya whose Sinhala plays brought applause,

Florence Gunarathna’s drill comes to mind,

Miss de Zilwa’s class drama was much enjoyed,

Sita Ratnasara’s lessons were mild, Miss Cockburn we feared, respected and liked -

Her class were quiet, not "wild".

Regina Balasuriya was stern in class, But like all the rest I have named,

Outside the classroom they were friendly people,

We recall them with affection unchanged. Now last of all, and never to be forgotten,

Is Clara Motwani then Visakha’s Head, She leads them all in this parade of memories,

On Visakha her lustre was shed -

And carrying her flag with Ais

Goolbai to young education is wed.

But the Visakha Vidyalaya that we attended,

So "home-y", select and so small,

Has now to dazzling heights ascended, It’s not a school at all, at all, -

It‘s a kingdom on city tall.
Bona Ekanayaka
Nugegoda