The sweetness of your charms has ravished my soul.
Your eyes are black and lovely,
But wild and disdainful as those of a stag.
The wished possession is delayed from day to day;
The cruel Sultan ACHMET will not permit me
To see those cheeks, more vermilion
Oh no. Only local scarcity and an unusual prevalence of seasonal sickness. Youll find it all
in the reports if you live till next year. Youre a lucky chap. You havent got a wife to send out of
harms way. The hill-stations ought to be full of women this ye
thing needful the establishment of a duly qualified electoral system and a general bestowal of the
franchise. His long-suffering hosts smiled and made him welcome, and when he paused to admire,
with pretty picked words, the blossom of the blood-red dhak-t
hand failed on the strings, the tune halted, checked, and at a low note turned off to the poor little
nursery- rhyme about the wicked crow
And the wild plums grow in the jungle, only a penny a pound.
Only a penny a pound, babaonly
Then came the tears, and
He was all my heart to me. How can I let the thought go when my arm tells me every night
that he is not here? Ahi! Ahi! Oh, Tota, come back to mecome back again, and let us be all
together as it was before!
Peace, peace! For thine own sake, and for mine a
One mercy only was granted to Holden. He rode to his office in broad daylight and found
waiting him an unusually heavy mail that demanded concentrated attention and hard work. He was
not, however, alive to this kindness of the gods.
The first shock of
crawl, but he was not going to waste the spring of his youth in idle speech. He wanted Mian Mittus
tail to tweak.
When he was advanced to the dignity of a silver beltwhich, with a magic square engraved
on silver and hung round his neck, made up the greate
Pir Khan squatted at the head of Holdens horse, his police sabre across his knees, pulling drowsily
at a big water-pipe that croaked like a bull-frog in a pond. Ameeras mother sat spinning in the
lower verandah, and the wooden gate was shut and barred. Th
He was a silent infant, and, almost before Holden could realise that he was in the world,
developed into a small gold-coloured little god and unquestioned despot of the house overlooking
the city. Those were months of absolute happiness to Holden and Amee
There is sickness, and people are dying, and all the white mem-log have gone.
All of them?
Allunless perhaps there remain some old scald-head who vexes her husbands heart by
running risk of death.
Nay; who stays is my sister, and thou must not abuse her,
the sword. They sat together and laughed, calling each other openly by every pet name that could
move the wrath of the gods. The city below them was locked up in its own torments. Sulphur fires
blazed in the streets; the conches in the Hindu temples screa
I rose, put on my sola hat, and startling the dark, shady, desolate path with the rattle of my carriage,
I reached the vast silent palace standing on the gloomy skirts of the hills.
On the first floor the stairs led to a very spacious hall, its roof stret
RABINDRANATH TAGORE: THE HUNGRY STONES (1895)
My kinsman and myself were returning to Calcutta from our Puja trip when we met the man in a
train. From his dress and bearing we took him at first for an up-country Mahomedan, but we were
puzzled as we heard
to describe or to induce people to believe; but I felt as if the whole house was like a living organism
slowly and imperceptibly digesting me by the action of some stupefying gastric juice.
Perhaps the process had begun as soon as I set my foot in the hou
When, owing to a disagreement about some questions of administrative policy, I threw up my
post at Junagarh, and entered the service of the Nizam of Hydria, they appointed me at once, as a
strong young man, collector of cotton duties at Barich.
The tick-tick of the little scorpions as they hurried across the floor was the only sound in the house.
Ameeras room and the other one where Tota had lived were heavy with mildew; and the narrow
staircase leading to the roof was streaked and stained with
also, for my monkey-face would be a reminder of that which has been. Concerning the bed, I will
bring that to thy house yonder in the morning; but remember, sahib, it will be to thee a knife turning
in a green wound. I go upon a pilgrimage, and I will tak
Sahib, she will be buried in four hours.
I know the custom. I shall go ere she is taken away. That matter is in thy hands. Look to it,
that the bed on whichon which she lies
Aha! That beautiful red-lacquered bed. I have long desired
That the bed is left h
dying. She is nursing herself into death. She is all but dead. What shall I do, sahib?
Ameera was lying in the room in which Tota had been born. She made no sign when Holden
entered, because the human soul is a very lonely thing and, when it is getting re
listen to me; for she is also a woman. But then she would envy me! It is not seemly for men to
worship a woman.
Holden laughed aloud at Ameeras little spasm of jealousy.
Is it not seemly? Why didst thou not turn me from worship of thee, then?
Thou a worsh
lay in the hollow of her right arm, gorgeous in silver-fringed muslin with a small skull-cap on his
head. Ameera wore all that she valued most. The diamond nose-stud that takes the place of the
Western patch in drawing attention to the curve of the nostri
her that leads the dance, but always in exact time, and infinitely more agreeable than any of our
dances, at least in my opinion. I sometimes make one in the train, but am not skilful enough to
lead; these are the Grecian dances, the Turkish being very di
to stop to consider them nearer. But that thought was lost upon my entrance into a large room, or
rather pavilion, built round with gilded sashes, which were most of them thrown up, and the trees
planted near them gave an agreeable shade, which hindered t
nature having done for her, with more success, what Appelles is said to have essayed, by a
collection of the most exact features, to form a perfect face.
Add to all this, a behaviour so full of
grace and sweetness, such easy motions, with an air so majest
"Can you, unpitying, see the pains I bear?
"The heavens relenting, hear my piercing cries,
"I loathe the light, and sleep forsakes my eyes;
"Turn thee, Sultana, ere thy lover dies:
"Sinking to earth, I fight the last adieu,
"Call me, my goddess, and my li
Letter XXXIII. TO THE COUNTESS OF -. Adrianopolis, April 18. O. S. 1717
I WROTE to you, dear sister, and to all my other English
correspondents, by the last ship, and
only Heaven can tell, when I shall have another opportunity of sending to you; but I can
concluding a song of passion with a turn which is inconsistent with it. The first verse is a
description of the season of the year; all the country now being full of nightingales, whole amours
with roses, is an Arabian fable, as well known here as any par
to devotion. He never looks upon any other woman; and, what is much more extraordinary,
touches no bribes, notwithstanding the example of all his predecessors. She entertained me
with all kind of civility, till dinner came in, which was served, one dish a
Adieu-I go down to the grave.
If you call me-I return.
My heart is-hot as sulphur;-sigh, and it will flame.
Crown of my life! fair light of my eyes!
My SULTANA! my princess!
I rub my face against the earth; I am drown'd in scalding tears-I rave!
play some soft airs on instruments, between a lute and a guitar, which they accompanied with their
voices, while the others danced by turns. This dance was very different from what I had seen
before. Nothing could be more artful, or more proper to raise c