In The Bazaars of Hyderabad
What do you sell O ye merchants ?
Richly your wares are displayed.
Turbans of crimson and silver,
Tunics of purple brocade,
Mirrors with panels of amber,
Daggers with handles of jade.
What do you weigh,
O ye vendors?
Saffron and lentil and rice.
What do you grind,
O ye maidens?
Sandalwood, henna, and spice.
What do you call ,
O ye pedlars?
Chessmen and ivory dice.
What do you make,
O ye goldsmiths?
Wristlet and anklet and ring,
Bells for the feet of blue
Frail as a dragon-fly’s wing,
Girdles of gold for dancers,
Scabbards of gold for the king.
What do you cry,
O ye fruitmen?
Citron, pomegranate, and plum.
What do you play ,
O musicians?
Cithar, sarangi and do you chant,
O magicians?
Spells for aeons to come.
What do you weave,
O ye
With tassels of azure and red?
Crowns for the brow of a bridegroom,
Chaplets to garland his bed.
Sheets of white blossoms
To perfume the sleep of the dead.
Sarojini Naidu
Other author posts
Indian Dancers
Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting, what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth heavens that glimmer around them in fountains of light; O wild and entrancing the strain of keen music that clea...
Damayante To Nala In The Hour Of Exile
LT thou be conquered of a human fate My liege, my lover, whose imperial head Hath never bent in sorrow of defeat Shalt thou be vanquished, whose imperial feet Have shattered armies and stamped empires dead Who shall unking thee, husband ...
Village Song
EY, child, honey, child, whither are you going Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you
The Queens Rival
EN AR sat on her ivory bed, Around her countless treasures were spread; Her chamber walls were richly inlaid With agate, porphory, onyx and jade;
