#IndianWriters #NobelPrize
She who ever had remained in the d… in the twilight of gleams and of g… she who never opened her veils in… will be my last gift to thee, my G… Words have wooed yet failed to win…
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
We both live in the same village a… The yellow bird sings in their tre… Her pair of pet lambs come to graz… If they stray into our barley fiel… The name of our village is Khanju…
Your questioning eyes are sad. T… I have bared my life before your e… If it were only a gem I could bre… If it were only a flower, round an… But it is a heart, my beloved. W…
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…
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...
“Come to us, youth, tell us truly… “I know not what wine of wild popp… “Ah, shame!” “Well, some are wise and some fool… “Youth, why do you stand so still…
It was mid-day when you went away. The sun was strong in the sky. I had done my work and sat alone o… Fitful gusts came winnowing throug… The doves cooed tireless in the sh…
I hunt for the golden stag. You may smile, my friends, but I… I run across hills and dales, I w… You come and buy in the market and… I have no care in my heart; all my…
When I bring to you colored toys,… I understand why there is such a p… and why flowers are painted in tin… ——when I give colored toys to you,… When I sing to make you dance
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, “…
91 THE great earth makes herself hos… with the help of the grass. 92 THE birth and death of the leaves
I only said, “When in the evening… entangled among the beaches of tha… catch it?” But dada laughed at me and said, “… child I have ever known. The moon…
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 song I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true,