#IndianWriters #NobelPrize
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…
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…
Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a… Beauty is in the ideal of perfect… which is in the universal being; truth the perfect comprehension of…
Ah, these jasmines, these white ja… I seem to remember the first day w… these jasmines, these white jasmin… I have loved the sunlight, the sky… I have heard the liquid murmur of…
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…
Imagine, mother, that you are to s… into strange lands. Imagine that my boat is ready at t… Now think well, mother, before you… you when I come back.
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…
Ah, who was it coloured that littl… your sweet limbs with that little… You have come out in the morning t… tottering and tumbling as you run. But who was it coloured that littl…
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;
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…
51 YOUR idol is shattered in the du… to prove that God’s dust is greate… your idol. 52
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…
The tame bird was in a cage, the f… They met when the time came, it wa… The free bird cries, “O my love,… The cage bird whispers, “Come hit… Says the free bird, “Among bars,…
Then finish the last song and let… Forget this night when the night i… Whom do I try to clasp in my arms… My eager hands press emptiness to…
The workman and his wife from the west country are busy digging to make bricks for the kiln. Their little daughter goes to the landing-place by the river; there she has no end of scouri...