Sarojini Naidu

(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)

Sarojini Naidu Poems

1. The Coromandel Fishers 4/7/2010
2. The Snake Charmer 4/7/2010
3. To Youth 4/7/2010
4. The Illusion Of Love 4/7/2010
5. The Bangle Sellers 4/7/2010
6. The Royal Tombs Of Golconda 1/1/2004
7. The Poet To Death 1/1/2004
8. Suttee 1/1/2004
9. The Pardah Nashin 1/1/2004
10. To The God Of Pain 1/1/2004
11. The Song Of Princess Zeb-Un-Nissa In Praise Of Her Own Beauty 1/1/2004
12. The Soul's Prayer 4/7/2010
13. The Indian Gipsy 1/1/2004
14. The Poet's Love-Song 1/3/2003
15. Ode To H.H. The Nizam Of Hyderabad 1/1/2004
16. To A Buddha Seated On A Lotus 1/1/2004
17. Wandering Singers 1/1/2004
18. Transcience 1/3/2003
19. To My Fairy Fancies 1/1/2004
20. My Dead Dream 1/1/2004
21. Street Cries 1/1/2004
22. To My Children 1/1/2004
23. Nightfall In The City Of Hyderabad 1/1/2004
24. To India 1/1/2004
25. Song Of A Dream 1/1/2004
26. Past And Future 1/1/2004
27. Humayun To Zobeida (From The Urdu) 1/1/2004
28. A Rajput Love Song 1/3/2003
29. Village Song 1/1/2004
30. Harvest Hymn 1/1/2004
31. Indian Love Song 1/1/2004
32. Damayante To Nala In The Hour Of Exile 1/1/2004
33. The Queen's Rival 1/1/2004
34. In Praise Of Henna 1/1/2004
35. Corn Grinders 1/1/2004
36. Leili 1/1/2004
37. Life 1/1/2004
38. Indian Dancer 1/1/2004
39. In The Bazaars Of Hyderabad 4/7/2010
40. Alabaster 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Sarojini Naidu

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 along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Read the full of Palanquin Bearers

Corn Grinders

O little mouse, why dost thou cry
While merry stars laugh in the sky?


Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will ease my bitter pain?
He went to seek a millet-grain
In the rich farmer's granary shed;
They caught him in a baited snare,

[Hata Bildir]