#Indians #IndianWriters #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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…
Where do you hurry with your baske… They all have come home with their… The echoes of the voices calling f… Where do you hurry with your baske… Sleep has laid her fingers upon th…
No more noisy, loud words from me—… Henceforth I deal in whispers. The speech of my heart will be car… Men hasten to the King’s market.… But I have my untimely leave in t…
Things throng and laugh loud in th… and whirl like children. Man’s min… thoughts long to be the playmates… Our dreams, drifting in the stream… arms to clutch the earth, —their e…
Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by ou… Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery,
I paced alone on the road across t… hiding its last gold like a miser. The daylight sank deeper and deepe… widowed land, whose harvest had be… Suddenly a boy’s shrill voice rose…
Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a… Beauty is in the ideal of perfect… which is in the universal being; truth the perfect comprehension of…
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...
I wish I could take a quiet corne… own world. I know it has stars that talk to h… down to his face to amuse him with… Those who make believe to be dumb,…
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;
I am like a remnant of a cloud of… uselessly roaming in the sky, O my… Thy touch has not yet melted my va… making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years…
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…
When storm—clouds rumble in the sk… The moist east wind comes marching… bagpipes among the bamboos. Then crowds of flowers come out of… where, and dance upon the grass in…
Man goes into the noisy crowd to drown his own clamour of silenc… Man is immortal; therefore he must… For life is a creative idea; it can only find itself in changin…
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…