#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I am restless. I am athirst for f… My soul goes out in a longing to t… O Great Beyond, O the keen call… I forget, I ever forget, that I h… I am eager and wakeful, I am a st…
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…
When she passed by me with quick s… From the unknown island of a heart… A flutter of a flitting touch brus… It fell upon my heart like a sigh…
I paced alone on the road across t… hiding its last gold like a miser. The daylight sank deeper and deepe… widowed land, whose harvest had be… Suddenly a boy’s shrill voice rose…
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…
I dive down into the depth of the… No more sailing from harbor to har… And now I am eager to die into th… Into the audience hall by the fath… I shall tune it to the notes of fo…
If baby only wanted to, he could f… It is not for nothing that he does… He loves to rest his head on mothe… bear to lose sight of her. Baby know all manner of wise words…
It is written in the book that Ma… noisy world, to go to the forest s… that the forest hermitage is only… birthplace of flowers and the haun… hooks are waiting there for the th…
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…
If it is not my portion to meet th… then let me ever feel that I have… ——let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sor… and in my wakeful hours.
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…
Would you put your wreath of fresh… But you must know that the one wre… It is too late to ask my heart in… There was a time when my life was… Now it is squandered far and wide.
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
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?
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…