#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Sullen clouds are gathering fast o… forest. O child, do not go out! The palm trees in a row by the lak… against the dismal sky; the crows…
Are you a mere picture, and not as… this dust? They throb with the pul… immensely aloof in your stillness,… The day was when you walked with m… limbs singing of life. My world fo…
It is only the revelation of You… that is endlessly new and eternall… and that gives the only meaning to… we feel Your rhythmic throb as sou… world in our own souls; then are w…
Take back your coins, King’s Coun… sent to the forest shrine to decoy… seen a women. I failed in your bid… Dimly day was breaking when the he… the stream, his tawny locks crowde…
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
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…
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…
Hands cling to hands and eyes ling… It is the moonlit night of March;… This love between you and me is si… Your veil of the saffron colour ma… The jasmine wreath that you wove m…
The day is not yet done, the fair… I had feared that my time had been… But no, my brother, I have still… The selling and buying are over. All the dues on both sides have be…
I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall… and life will take its leave in si… drawing the last curtain over my e… Yet stars will watch at night,
O mad, 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;
Where the mind is without fear and… Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broke… domestic walls; Where words come out from the dept…
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...
I was walking by the road, I do n… The prone shadows with their out-s… The koels were weary of their song… I was walking by the road, I do n… The hut by the side of the water i…
In one salutation to thee, my God… let all my senses spread out and t… Like a rain—cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed… let all my mind bend down at thy d…