#Indians #IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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...
Amidst the rush and roar of life,… Great Time sits enamoured at your… “Speak, speak to me, my love; spea… But your speech is shut up in ston…
It is written in the book that Ma… noisy world, to go to the forest s… that the forest hermitage is only… birthplace of flowers and the haun… hooks are waiting there for the th…
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…
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...
Kasinath the new young singer fill… The seven notes dance in his throa… His voice is a sharp sword slicing… It darts like lightening —no knowi… He sets deadly traps for himself,…
I was one among many women busy wi… Why did you single me out and brin… Love unexpressed in sacred. It s… Ah, you broke through the cover of… The other women are the same as ev…
Mother, your baby is silly! She i… She does not know the difference b… streets and the stars. When we play at eating with pebble… food, and tries to put them into h…
If thou speakest not I will fill… I will keep still and wait like th… and its head bent low with patienc… The morning will surely come, the… and thy voice pour down in golden…
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,
I found a few old letters of mine carefully hidden in thy box—a few small toys for thy memory to play with. With a timorous heart thou didst try to steal these trifles from the...
Leave this chanting and singing an… Whom dost thou worship in this lon… Open thine eyes and see thy God i… He is there where the tiller is ti… and where the pathmaker is breakin…
Tell me if this be all true, my lo… When these eyes flash their lightn… Is it true that my lips are sweet… Do the memories of vanished months… Does the earth, like a harp, shive…
O thou the last fulfilment of life… Death, my death, come and whisper… Day after day I have kept watch f… for thee have I borne the joys and… All that I am, that I have, that…
It is time for me to go, mother;… When in the paling darkness of the… your arms for your baby in the bed… here!”—mother, I am going. I shall become a delicate draught…