#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
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…
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…
Art thou abroad on this stormy nig… on thy journey of love, my friend? The sky groans like one in despair… I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and…
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...
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.
Love, my heart longs day and night… Sweep me away like a storm; take e… In that devastation, in the utter… Alas for my vain desire! Where i…
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all. Let only that little be left of my… whereby I may feel thee on every s… and come to thee in everything,
Who are you, reader, reading my po… I cannot send you one single flowe… Open your doors and look abroad. From your blossoming garden gather… In the joy of your heart may you f…
41 THE trees, like the longings of the earth, stand a—tiptoe to peep at the heav… 42
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…
Though the evening comes with slow… Though your companions have gone t… Though fear broods in the dark and… Yet, bird, O my bird, listen to m… That is not the gloom of the leave…
I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to mee… Thy sun and stars can never keep t… In many a morning and eve thy foot… and thy messenger has come within…
Is that your call again? The evening has come. Weariness… Do you call me? I had given all my day to you, cru… Somewhere there is an end to every…
I must launch out my boat. The languid hours pass by on the shore——Alas for me! The spring has done its flowering… And now with the burden of faded f…