#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
When the heart is hard and parched… come upon me with a shower of merc… When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song. When tumultuous work raises its di…
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,
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…
Reverend sir, forgive this pair of sinners. Spring winds to-day are blowing in wild eddies, driving dust and dead leaves away, For we have made truce with death for once, and only for...
The road is my wedded companion.… day, she sings to my dreams all ni… My meeting with her had no beginni… each daybreak, renewing its summer… her every new kiss is the first ki…
I wonder if I know him In whose speech is my voice, In whose movement is my being, Whose skill is in my lines, Whose melody is in my songs
The day was when I did not keep m… and entering my heart unbidden eve… unknown to me, my king, thou didst… many a fleeting moment of my life. And today when by chance I light…
I wish I could take a quiet corne… own world. I know it has stars that talk to h… down to his face to amuse him with… Those who make believe to be dumb,…
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…
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…
Tired of waiting, you burst your b… the winter had gone. Glimpses of t… wayside watch, and you rushed out… jasmines, troops of riotous roses. You were the first to march to the…
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 do you sit there on the floor… mother dear? The rain is coming in through the… wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four…
41 THE trees, like the longings of the earth, stand a—tiptoe to peep at the heav… 42