Mother, I shall weave a chain of… with my tears of sorrow. The stars have wrought their ankle… but mine will hang upon thy breast… Wealth and fame come from thee
You are the evening cloud floating… I paint you and fashion you ever w… You are my own, my own, Dweller i… Your feet are rosy-red with the gl… Your lips are bitter-sweet with th…
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…
Say of him what you please, but I… I do not love him because he is go… little child. How should you know how dear he ca… his merits against his faults?
The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with s...
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 turbulen...
I long to go over there to the fur… Where those boats are tied to the… Where men cross over in their boat… ploughs on their shoulders to till… Where the cowherds make their lowi…
Come to my garden walk, my love.… press themselves on your sight. Pa… chance joy, which like a sudden wo… elude. For lover’s gift is shy, it never…
I wonder if I know him In whose speech is my voice, In whose movement is my being, Whose skill is in my lines, Whose melody is in my songs
Tulsidas, the poet, was wandering,… He found a woman sitting at the fe… She rose as she saw him, bowed to… “Why such hurry, my daughter?” ask… “For heaven I do not long,” said…
Peace, my heart, let the time for… Let it not be a death but complete… Let love melt into memory and pain… Let the flight through the sky end… Let the last touch of your hands b…
II Keep me fully glad with nothing. Only take my hand in your hand. In the gloom of the deepening night...
It is time for me to go, mother;… When in the paling darkness of the… your arms for your baby in the bed… here!”—mother, I am going. I shall become a delicate draught…
I asked nothing, only stood at the… Languor was still upon the eyes of… The lazy smell of the damp grass h… Under the banyan tree you were mil… And I was standing still.
“What comes from your willing hand… “Yes, yes, I know you, modest men… “If there be a stray flower for me… "But if there be thorns?” “I will endure them.”