#toru dutt

[the-year-i-met-you]

So most of you guys might or might not know about Toru Dutt. She is regarded as one of the most outstanding pioneer in the history of Indian Literature. I recently got a chance to cover her story in one of the E-magazines here. Do give it a read if you would like to know more about her.

Thank you.

[mvaljean525]

Love came to Flora asking for a flower That would of flowers be undisputed queen, The lily and the rose, long, long had been Rivals for that high honour. Bards of power Had sung their claims. “The rose can never tower Like the pale lily with her Juno mien”- “But is the lily lovelier?” Thus between Flower-factions rang the strife in Psyche’s bower.  “Give me a flower delicious as the rose And stately as the lily in her pride”- “But of what colour?”- “Rose-red,” Love first chose, Then prayed, -“No, lily-white,-or, both provide”;  And Flora gave the lotus, “rose-red” dyed, And “lily-white,”- the queenliest flower that blows.

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Sonnet-The Lotus

Toru Dutt তরু দত্ত)  1856-1877

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Graphic - José Luis López Galván  (B.1985)

[ghostaris]

Queens of Eden

[thethingyoufearinthedark661]

"Mayst thou be numbered when my days are done"

-Toru Dutt

[judge-books-by-their-covers]

Our Casuarina Tree - Like a huge Python, winding round and round

[sumpix]

Our Casuarina Tree

Toru Dutt

Like a huge Python, winding round and round      The rugged trunk, indented deep with scars,      Up to its very summit near the stars,   A creeper climbs, in whose embraces bound      No other tree could live. But gallantly         The giant wears the scarf, and flowers are hung   In crimson clusters all the boughs among,      Whereon all day are gathered bird and bee;   And oft at nights the garden overflows   With one sweet song that seems to have no close,           Sung darkling from our tree, while men repose.  

When first my casement is wide open thrown      At dawn, my eyes delighted on it rest;      Sometimes, and most in winter,—on its crest   A gray baboon sits statue-like alone            Watching the sunrise; while on lower boughs   His puny offspring leap about and play;   And far and near kokilas hail the day;      And to their pastures wend our sleepy cows;   And in the shadow, on the broad tank cast           By that hoar tree, so beautiful and vast,   The water-lilies spring, like snow enmassed.  

But not because of its magnificence      Dear is the Casuarina to my soul:      Beneath it we have played; though years may roll,         O sweet companions, loved with love intense,      For your sakes, shall the tree be ever dear.   Blent with your images, it shall arise   In memory, till the hot tears blind mine eyes!      What is that dirge-like murmur that I hear         Like the sea breaking on a shingle-beach?   It is the tree’s lament, an eerie speech,   That haply to the unknown land may reach.  

Unknown, yet well-known to the eye of faith!      Ah, I have heard that wail far, far away            In distant lands, by many a sheltered bay,   When slumbered in his cave the water-wraith      And the waves gently kissed the classic shore   Of France or Italy, beneath the moon,   When earth lay trancèd in a dreamless swoon:          And every time the music rose,—before   Mine inner vision rose a form sublime,   Thy form, O Tree, as in my happy prime   I saw thee, in my own loved native clime.  

Therefore I fain would consecrate a lay            Unto thy honor, Tree, beloved of those      Who now in blessed sleep, for aye, repose, Dearer than life to me, alas! were they!      Mayst thou be numbered when my days are done   With deathless trees—like those in Borrowdale,         Under whose awful branches lingered pale      “Fear, trembling Hope, and Death, the skeleton,   And Time the shadow;” and though weak the verse   That would thy beauty fain, oh fain rehearse,   May Love defend thee from Oblivion’s curse.

[spoke9]

Toru Dutt | Sonnet

#100DaysOfWriting Toru Dutt | Sonnet

Toru Dutt A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colors here are seen; The light-green graceful tamarinds abound Amid the mango clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o'er the quiet pools the seemuls lean, Red—red, and startling like a trumpet's sound. But nothing can be lovelier than the ranges Of…

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[violettesiren]

A sea of foliage girds our garden round, But not a sea of dull unvaried green, Sharp contrasts of all colours here are seen; The light-green graceful tamarinds abound Amid the mangoe clumps of green profound, And palms arise, like pillars gray, between; And o'er the quiet pools the seemuls lean, Red,—red, and startling like a trumpet's sound. But nothing can be lovelier than the ranges Of bamboos to the eastward, when the moon Looks through their gaps, and the white lotus changes Into a cup of silver. One might swoon Drunken with beauty then, or gaze and gaze On a primeval Eden, in amaze.

Baugmaree by Toru Dutt