#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
WHEN the two sisters go to fetch… They must be aware of somebody who… The two sisters whisper to each ot… They must have guessed the secret… Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and…
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…
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…
Have you not heard his silent step… He comes, comes, ever comes. Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes… Many a song have I sung in many a…
Why do you put me to shame with a… I have not come as a beggar. Only for a passing hour I stood a… Why do you put me to shame with a… Not a rose did I gather from your…
I plucked your flower, O world! I pressed it to my heart and the t… When the day waned and it darkened… More flowers will come to you with… But my time for flower-gathering i…
O Fool, try to carry thyself upon… O beggar, to come beg at thy own d… Leave all thy burdens on his hands… and never look behind in regret. Thy desire at once puts out the li…
The assembly is over and my servants are all gone. Why do you come at this late hour? When you have finished with others, that is my time. I come to ask what remains for your last serva...
No more noisy, loud words from me—… Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be car… Men hasten to the King’s market.… But I have my untimely leave in t…
I WANT TO give you something, m… Our lives will be carried apart, a… But I am not so foolish as to hop… Young is your life, your path long… You have your play and your playma…
11 SOME unseen fingers, like idle b… are playing upon my heart the musi… 12 ‘WHAT language is thine, O sea?’
Take back your coins, King’s Coun… sent to the forest shrine to decoy… seen a women. I failed in your bid… Dimly day was breaking when the he… the stream, his tawny locks crowde…
Sullen clouds are gathering fast o… forest. O child, do not go out! The palm trees in a row by the lak… against the dismal sky; the crows…
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…