#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
I run as a musk-deer runs in the s… The night is the night of mid-May… I lose my way and I wander, I see… From my heart comes out and dances… The gleaming vision flits on.
When I go alone at night to my lo… It is my own anklets that grow lou… When I sit on my balcony and list… It is my own heart that beats wild… When my love comes and sits by my…
None lives for ever, brother, and… Our life is not the one old burden… One sole poet has not to sing one… The flower fades and dies; but he… Brother, keep that in mind and rej…
I ask for a moment’s indulgence to… that I have in hand I will finish… Away from the sight of thy face my… and my work becomes an endless toi… Today the summer has come at my wi…
Infinite wealth is not yours, my p… You toil to fill the mouths of you… The gift of gladness that you have… The toys that you make for your ch… You cannot satisfy all our hungry…
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…
This is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the ways… where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of… Messengers, with tidings from unkn…
81 WHAT is this unseen flame of dar… whose sparks are the stars? 82 LET life be beautiful like summer…
WHEN the two sisters go to fetch… They must be aware of somebody who… The two sisters whisper to each ot… They must have guessed the secret… Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and…
I hold her hands and press her to… I try to fill my arms with her lov… Ah, but, where is it? Who can st… I try to grasp the beauty, it elud… Baffled and weary I come back.
In the beginning of time, there ro… dream two women. One is the dancer… desired of men, she who laughs and… from their cold meditations and of… scatters them like seeds with care…
The same stream of life that runs… runs through the world and dances… It is the same life that shoots in… in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves o…
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...
Tell me if this be all true, my lo… When these eyes flash their lightn… Is it true that my lips are sweet… Do the memories of vanished months… Does the earth, like a harp, shive…