Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
The wild wind blows in a cloud.
Hark to a voice that is calling
To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
And why should I stay behind?
Autumn Song
About the poet
Sarojini Naidu
Sarojini Naidu (née Chattopadhyay; 13 February 1879 – 2 March 1949) was an Indian political activist and poet. A proponent of civil rights, women's emancipation, and anti-imperialistic ideas, she was an important figure in India's struggle for independence fr…
View profile & all 7 Poems / StoriesMore from Sarojini Naidu
Palanquin Bearers
Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
Indian Weavers
WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Coromandel Fishers
Rise, brothers, rise; the wakening skies pray to the morning light,The wind lies asleep in the arms of the dawn like a child that has cried all night.
An Indian Love Song
HeLift up the veils that darken the delicate moon
A Love Song From The North
Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha,Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha,
