Sarojini Naidu

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

Indian Weavers - Poem 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.


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Read poems about / on: funeral, marriage, purple, child, green, night, children



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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