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Wednesday, August 13, 2008

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.’

1 comment:

Lavanyam - Antarman said...

Absolutely deep & meaningful . Thanx 4 posting them.