#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Things throng and laugh loud in th… and whirl like children. Man’s min… thoughts long to be the playmates… Our dreams, drifting in the stream… arms to clutch the earth, —their e…
61 TAKE my wine in my own cup, frie… It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others. 62
I often wonder where lie hidden th… Through what primal paradise in a… Those marks of their constant trea… Yet suddenly in some wordless musi… It seems that the two friends meet…
Last night in the garden I offere… lifted the cup to your lips, you s… I raised your veil, unbound your t… breast your face sweet with its si… dream overflowed the world of slum…
Come to my garden walk, my love.… press themselves on your sight. Pa… chance joy, which like a sudden wo… elude. For lover’s gift is shy, it never…
Why do you whisper so faintly in m… When the flowers droop in the even… Is this how you must woo and win m… Will there be no proud ceremony fo… Will you not tie up with a wreath…
41 THE trees, like the longings of the earth, stand a—tiptoe to peep at the heav… 42
If I were only a little puppy, no… you say “No” to me if I tried to… Would you drive me off, saying to… little puppy?” Then go, mother, go! I will never…
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 asked of Destiny, “Tell me who… Destiny told me to look behind. I turned and saw my own self behin…
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…
Do not go, my love, without asking… I have watched all night, and now… I fear lest I lose you when I am… Do not go, my love, without asking… I start up and stretch my hands to…
Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at h...
I was walking by the road, I do n… The prone shadows with their out-s… The koels were weary of their song… I was walking by the road, I do n… The hut by the side of the water i…
Whey are those tears in your eyes,… How horrid of them to be always sc… You have stained your fingers and… is that why they call you dirty? O, fie! Would they dare to call t…