#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
When the lamp went out by my bed… I sat at my open window with a fre… The young traveller came along the… A pearl chain was on his neck, and… For very shame I could not say, “…
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
There is room for you. You are al… My boat is crowded, it is heavily… away? Your young body is slim and… smile in the edge of your eyes, an… rain cloud.
In the morning I cast my net into… I dragged up from the dark abyss t… When with the day’s burden I went… I hesitated for a moment, and then… She glanced at them and said, “Wh…
On the day when the lotus bloomed,… and I knew it not. My basket was… Only now and again a sadness fell… dream and felt a sweet trace of a… That vague sweetness made my heart…
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 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…
Music is silenced, the dark descen… Has stripped unending skies of all… Weariness grips your limbs and wit… Dumbly ring the bells of hugely ga… Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
WHEN I go alone at night to my l… 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…
Why do you speak so softly, Death… Creep upon me, watch me so stealth… This is not how a lover should beh… When evening flowers droop upon th… Stems, when cattle are brought in…
Time is endless in thy hands, my l… There is none to count thy minutes… Days and nights pass and ages bloo… Thou knowest how to wait. Thy centuries follow each other pe…
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…
In the village they call her the d… but to me she is the flower Krishn… On a cloudy day in a field I saw the dark girl’s dark gazelle… She had no covering on her head,
A wandering madman was seeking the touchstone, with matted locks tawny and dust-laden, and body worn to a shadow, his lips tight-pressed, like the shut-up doors of his heart, his burnin...