#IndianWriters #NobelPrize
Over the green and yellow rice fie… The bees forget to sip their honey… None shall go back home, brothers,… We will take the blue sky by storm… Laughters fly floating in the air…
I try to weave a wreath all the mo… You sit there watching me in secre… Ask those eyes, darkly planning mi… I try to sing a song, but in vain. A hidden smile trembles on your li…
My love, once upon a time your poe… Alas, I was not careful, and it s… It broke up into scraps of songs a… All my cargo of the stories of old… You must make this loss good to me…
On the day when the lotus bloomed,… and I knew it not. My basket was… Only now and again a sadness fell… dream and felt a sweet trace of a… That vague sweetness made my heart…
O mad, superbly drunk; If you kick open your doors and pl… If you empty your bag in a night,… If you walk in curious paths and p… Reck not rhyme or reason;
Where is heaven? you ask me, my ch… beyond the limits of birth and dea… and night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its etern… space, and it strives evermore to…
When the creation was new and all… splendor, the gods held their asse… `Oh, the picture of perfection! th… But one cried of a sudden ——`It seems that somewhere there i…
In the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep wit… resting my trust upon thee. Let me not force my flagging spiri… It is thou who drawest the veil of…
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…
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep… He it is who puts his enchantment… and joyfully plays on the chords o… in varied cadence of pleasure and…
O you mad, you superbly drunk! If you kick open your doors and pl… If you empty your bag in a night,… If you walk in curious paths and p… Reck not rhyme or reason;
Why did he choose to come to my do… As I come in and out I pass by hi… I know not if I should speak to h… The cloudy nights in July are dar… He weaves his songs with fresh tun…
Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by ou… Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery,
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…
They clamour and fight, they doubt… to their wrangling. Let your life come amongst them li… child, unflickering and pure, and… They are cruel in their greed and…