I must launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore——Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering… And now with the burden of faded f…
I am small because I am a little… as old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, “It… and your books.” I shall tell him, “ Do you not kn…
O woman, you are not merely the ha… Poets are weaving for you a web wi… The sea gives its pearls, the mine… The desire of men's hearts has she… You are one half woman and one hal…
I only said, “When in the evening… entangled among the beaches of tha… catch it?” But dada laughed at me and said, “… child I have ever known. The moon…
Maya That I should make much of myself… thus casting colored shadows on th… ——such is thy Maya. Thou settest a barrier in thine ow…
When I bring you coloured toys, m… is such a play of colours on cloud… painted in tints—when I give colou… When I sing to make you dance, I… in leaves, and why waves send thei…
The road is my wedded companion.… day, she sings to my dreams all ni… My meeting with her had no beginni… each daybreak, renewing its summer… her every new kiss is the first ki…
You say that father write a lot of… understand. He was reading to you all the even… make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can…
The 'I’ that floats along the wav… From a distance I watch him. With the dust and the water, With the fruit and the flower, With the All he is rushing forwar…
I often wonder where lie hidden th… Through what primal paradise in a… Those marks of their constant trea… Yet suddenly in some wordless musi… It seems that the two friends meet…
When I bring to you colored toys,… I understand why there is such a p… and why flowers are painted in tin… ——when I give colored toys to you,… When I sing to make you dance
I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy box—a few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the...
VII Sing the song of the moment in car… Sing of the fleeting smiles that v… Sing of the flowers that bloom and… Weave not in memory’s thread the d…
91 THE great earth makes herself hos… with the help of the grass. 92 THE birth and death of the leaves
This is my prayer to thee, my lord… strike at the root of penury in my… Give me the strength lightly to be… Give me the strength to make my lo… Give me the strength never to diso…