#IndianWriters #NobelPrize
I would ask for still more, if I… and the world with its endless ric… the smallest corner of this earth…
Peace, my heart, let the time for… Let it not be a death but complete… Let love melt into memory and pain… Let the flight through the sky end… Let the last touch of your hands b…
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…
Pity, in place of love, That pettiest of gifts, Is but a sugar—coating over neglec… Any passerby can make a gift of it To a street beggar,
“What comes from your willing hand… “Yes, yes, I know you, modest men… “If there be a stray flower for me… "But if there be thorns?” “I will endure them.”
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...
She dwelt on the hillside by the edge of a maize-field, near the spring that flows in laughing rills through the solemn shadows of ancient trees. The women came there to fill their jar...
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...
Traveller, must you go? The night is still and the darknes… The lamps are bright in our balcon… Is the time for your parting come? Traveller, must you go?
She is near to my heart as the mea… sweet to me as sleep is to tired l… flowing in its fullness, like a ri… serene abandonment. My songs are o… of a stream, that sings with all i…
The night was dark when she went a… The night is dark now, and I call… darling; the world is asleep; and… for a moment while stars are gazin… She went away when the trees were…
Ah me, why did they build my house… They moor their laden boats near m… They come and go and wander at the… I sit and watch them; my time wear… Turn them away I cannot. And thus…
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…
With a glance of your eyes you cou… But for their praises you have no… You could humble at your feet the… But it is your loved ones, unknown… The perfection of your arms would…
One morning in the flower garden a… I put it round my neck, and tears… I kissed her and said, “You are b… You yourself know not how beautifu…