भारत कोकिला सरोजिनी नायडू की कविताये

भारत कोकिला सरोजिनी नायडू की कविताये

PAST AND FUTURE

by: Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949)

HE new hath come and now the old retires:
And so the past becomes a mountain-cell,
Where lone, apart, old hermit-memories dwell
In consecrated calm, forgotten yet
Of the keen heart that hastens to forget
Old longings in fulfilling new desires.

And now the Soul stands in a vague, intense
Expectancy and anguish of suspense,
On the dim chamber-threshold . . . lo! he sees
Like a strange, fated bride as yet unknown,
His timid future shrinking there alone,
Beneath her marriage-veil of mysteries.

Indian Weavers
BY
Sarojini Naidu

WEAVERS, weaving at break of day, Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . . Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild, We weave the robes of a new-born child. Weavers, weaving at fall of night, Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . . Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green, We weave the marriage-veils of a queen. Weavers, weaving solemn and still, What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . . White as a feather and white as a cloud, We weave a dead man's funeral shroud. THE SOUL'S PRAYER by: Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949) N childhood’s pride I said to Thee: ‘O Thou, who mad’st me of Thy breath, Speak, Master, and reveal to me Thine inmost laws of life and death. ‘Give me to drink each joy and pain Which Thine eternal hand can mete, For my insatiate soul would drain Earth’s utmost bitter, utmost sweet. ‘Spare me no bliss, no pang of strife, Withhold no gift or grief I crave, The intricate lore of love and life And mystic knowledge of the grave.’ Lord, Thou didst answer stern and low: ‘Child, I will hearken to thy prayer, And thy unconquered soul shall know All passionate rapture and despair. ‘Thou shalt drink deep of joy and fame, And love shall burn thee like a fire, And pain shall cleanse thee like a flame, To purge the dross from thy desire. ‘So shall thy chastened spirit yearn To seek from its blind prayer release, And spent and pardoned, sue to learn The simple secret of My peace. ‘I, bending from my sevenfold height, Will teach thee of My quickening grace, Life is a prism of My light, And Death the shadow of My face.’