I have made You the polar star of… existence; never again can I lose… voyage of life. Wherever I go, You are always the… shower your benefience all around…
STRAY birds of summer come to my… to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh…
“Where have I come from, where di… its mother. She answered, half crying, half la… baby to her breast— “You were hidden in my heart as it…
I spent my day on the scorching ho… Now, in the cool of the evening,… A grim ashath tree spreads its hun… Days have been when wayfarers came… They spread their mats in the cour…
My heart, the bird of the wilderne… They are the cradle of the morning… My songs are lost in their depths. Let me but soar in that sky, in it… Let me but cleave its clouds and s…
I am like a remnant of a cloud of… uselessly roaming in the sky, O my… Thy touch has not yet melted my va… making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years…
Thou hast made me endless, such is… vessel thou emptiest again and aga… This little flute of a reed thou h… and hast breathed through it melod… At the immortal touch of thy hands…
In one salutation to thee, my God… let all my senses spread out and t… Like a rain—cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed… let all my mind bend down at thy d…
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…
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
At dawn shey(1) departed My mind tried to console me — ' Everything is Maya(2)'. Angrily I replied: 'Here’s this sewing box on the tab…
Where the mind is without fear and… Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broke… domestic walls; Where words come out from the dept…
I boasted among men that I had kn… They see your pictures in all work… They come and ask me, `Who is he?… I know not how to answer them. I… They blame me and they go away in…
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,…
The workman and his wife from the west country are busy digging to make bricks for the kiln. Their little daughter goes to the landing-place by the river; there she has no end of scouri...