#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
“Trust love even if it brings sorr… “Ah no, my friend, your words are… “The heart is only for giving away… “Ah no, my friend, your words are… “Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop,…
The boat of the boatman Madhu is… It is uselessly laden with jute, a… for ever so long. If he would only lend me his boat,… hundred oars, and hoist sails, fiv…
I have got my leave. Bid me farew… I bow to you all and take my depar… Here I give back the keys of my d… ——and I give up all claims to my h… I only ask for last kind words fro…
O mother, the young Prince is to… attend to my work this morning? Show me how to braid up my hair; t… Why do you look at me amazed, moth… I know well he will not glance up…
The day is not yet done, the fair… I had feared that my time had been… But no, my brother, I have still… The selling and buying are over. All the dues on both sides have be…
Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it. Let the dead have the immortality… but the living the immortality of… Life’s errors cry for the merciful…
I try to weave a wreath all the mo… You sit there watching me in secre… Ask those eyes, darkly planning mi… I try to sing a song, but in vain. A hidden smile trembles on your li…
I wish I could take a quiet corne… own world. I know it has stars that talk to h… down to his face to amuse him with… Those who make believe to be dumb,…
My soul is alight with your infinitude of stars. Your world has broken upon me like a flood. The flowers of your garden blossom in my body. The joy of life that is everywhere b...
91 THE great earth makes herself hos… with the help of the grass. 92 THE birth and death of the leaves
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…
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…
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?
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
Why did he choose to come to my do… As I come in and out I pass by hi… I know not if I should speak to h… The cloudy nights in July are dar… He weaves his songs with fresh tun…