#IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
I long to speak the deepest words… That is why I laugh at myself and… I make light of my pain, afraid yo… I long to tell you the truest word… That is why I disguise them in un…
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…
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…
Why did the lamp go out? I shaded it with my cloak to save… Why did the flower fade? I pressed it to my heart with anxi… Why did the stream dry up?
O mother, the young Prince is to… attend to my work this morning? Show me how to braid up my hair; t… Why do you look at me amazed, moth… I know well he will not glance up…
It was mid-day when you went away. The sun was strong in the sky. I had done my work and sat alone o… Fitful gusts came winnowing throug… The doves cooed tireless in the sh…
To the guests that must go bid Go… Take to your bosom with a smile wh… To-day is the festival of phantoms… Let your laughter be but a meaning… Let your life lightly dance on the…
The same stream of life that runs… runs through the world and dances… It is the same life that shoots in… in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves o…
Day by day I float my paper boats… In bid black letters I write my n… I hope that someone in some strang… I load my little boats with shiuli… I launch my paper boats and look u…
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…
When the gong sounds ten in the mo… lane. Every day I meet the hawker cryin… bangles!” There is nothing to hurry him on,…
If it is not my portion to meet th… then let me ever feel that I have… ——let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sor… and in my wakeful hours.
She who ever had remained in the d… in the twilight of gleams and of g… she who never opened her veils in… will be my last gift to thee, my G… Words have wooed yet failed to win…
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...
At midnight the would-be ascetic a… “This is the time to give up my ho… God whispered, “I,” but the ears… With a baby asleep at her breast l… The man said, “Who are ye that ha…