The Bangle Sellers
Bangle sellers are we who
Our shining loads to the temple fair...
Who will buy these delicate,
Rainbow-tinted circles of light?
Lustrous tokens of radiant lives,
For happy daughters and happy wives.
Some are meet for a maiden's wrist,
Silver and blue as the mountain mist,
Some are flushed like the buds that
On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream,
Some are aglow wth the bloom that
To the limpid glory of new born
Some are like fields of sunlit corn,
Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,
Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,
Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire,
Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear,
Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
Some are purple and gold flecked
For she who has journeyed through life midway,
Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest,
And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast,
And serves her household in fruitful pride,
And worships the gods at her husband's side.
Sarojini Naidu
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My Dead Dream
VE OU found me, at last, O my Dream Seven eons ago You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow
To My Fairy Fancies
AY, no longer I may hold you, In my spirit's soft caresses, Nor like lotus-leaves enfold you In the tangles of my tresses Fairy fancies, fly away To the white cloud-wildernesses,
The Indian Gypsy
IN tattered robes that hoard a glittering trace Of bygone colours, broidered to the knee, Behold her, daughter of a wandering race, Tameless, with the bold falcon's agile grace, And the lithe tiger's sinuous majesty
Palanquin Bearers
Lightly, O lightly we bear her along, She sways like a flower in the wind of our song; She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream, She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing, We bear her ...
