#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
61 TAKE my wine in my own cup, frie… It loses its wreath of foam when poured into that of others. 62
This is my prayer to thee, my lord… strike at the root of penury in my… Give me the strength lightly to be… Give me the strength to make my lo… Give me the strength never to diso…
Supposing I became a chanpa flowe… branch high up that tree, and shoo… danced upon the newly budded leave… You would call, “Baby, where are… myself and keep quite quiet.
The 'I’ that floats along the wav… From a distance I watch him. With the dust and the water, With the fruit and the flower, With the All he is rushing forwar…
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…
Yes, I know, this is nothing but… O beloved of my heart——this golden… these idle clouds sailing across t… this passing breeze leaving its co… The morning light has flooded my e…
Strong Mercy My desires are many and my cry is… but ever didst thou save me by har… and this strong mercy has been wro… Day by day thou art making me wort…
Why do you speak so softly, Death… Creep upon me, watch me so stealth… This is not how a lover should beh… When evening flowers droop upon th… Stems, when cattle are brought in…
I asked of Destiny, “Tell me who… Destiny told me to look behind. I turned and saw my own self behin…
Palm-tree: single-legged giant, topping other trees, peering at the firmament — It longs to pierce the black cloud… and fly away, away,
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
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,
Life is given to us, we earn it by giving it. Let the dead have the immortality… but the living the immortality of… Life’s errors cry for the merciful…
When I go alone at night to my lo… It is my own anklets that grow lou… When I sit on my balcony and list… It is my own heart that beats wild… When my love comes and sits by my…
I thought that my voyage had come… at the last limit of my power,—tha… that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter… But I find that thy will knows no…