#Indians #IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I am small because I am a little child.… as old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, “It is la… and your books.” I shall tell him, “ Do you not know I a…
Take back your coins, King’s Councillor… sent to the forest shrine to decoy the y… seen a women. I failed in your bidding. Dimly day was breaking when the hermit b… the stream, his tawny locks crowded on h…
If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upo… even as thou hast wrapt the earth with t…
I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun e… Thy touch has not yet melted my vapor, making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years separa…
Ah me, why did they build my house by th… They moor their laden boats near my tree… They come and go and wander at their wil… I sit and watch them; my time wears on. Turn them away I cannot. And thus my da…
“Come to us, youth, tell us truly why th… “I know not what wine of wild poppy I h… “Ah, shame!” “Well, some are wise and some foolish, s… “Youth, why do you stand so still under…
I was one among many women busy with the… Why did you single me out and bring me a… Love unexpressed in sacred. It shines… Ah, you broke through the cover of my he… The other women are the same as ever.
She who ever had remained in the depth o… in the twilight of gleams and of glimpse… she who never opened her veils in the mo… will be my last gift to thee, my God, fo… Words have wooed yet failed to win her;
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 turbulen...
When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy. When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song. When tumultuous work raises its din on a…
The 'I’ that floats along the wave of t… From a distance I watch him. With the dust and the water, With the fruit and the flower, With the All he is rushing forward.
The sleep that flits on baby’s eyes—does… it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it… in the fairy village among shadows of th… glow—worms, there hang two shy buds of e… comes to kiss baby’s eyes.
The day is not yet done, the fair is not… I had feared that my time had been squan… But no, my brother, I have still someth… The selling and buying are over. All the dues on both sides have been gat…
The fair was on before the temple. It… Brighter than all the gladness of the cr… The shrill joy of that whistle floated a… An endless throng of people came and jos… Greater than all the troubles of the cro…
71 THE woodcutter’s axe begged for its han… The tree gave it. 72 IN my solitude of heart