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Sarojini Naidu Poems: Latest Poems of Sarojini Naidu, Meaning

Posted on September 21, 2023November 7, 2023 by ANDREW

Sarojini Naidu Poems: Sarojini Naidu is a profound English poet and a freedom fighter. She was also known as the “Nightingale of India”. Sarojini Naidu’s poems revolve around the Indian landscape, tradition, and nature. Given below are some great pomes of Sarojini Naidu with an explanation.

Also Read: William Wordsworth’s poem

Table of Contents

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  • 1- Sarojini Naidu Poems: In the Bazaars of Hyderabad
  • 2- Indian Dancers
  • 3- Sarojini Naidu Poems: Coromandel Fishers
  • 4- To My Fairy Fancies
  • 5- Sarojini Naidu Poems: To the God of Pain
  • 6- The Bangle Sellers
  • What is the nickname given to Sarojini Naidu?
  • 7- Indian Weavers
  • Why was Sarojini Naidu called the Nightingale of India?
  • 8- The Pardah Nashin
  • 9- The Gift of India
  • When did Sarojini Naidu die?
  • 10- The Queen’s Rival
  • Did Sarojini Naidu win the Nobel prize?
  • 11- The Snake Charmer
  • What is the name of Sarojini Naidu’s mother?
  • 12- To Youth
  • Was Sarojini Naidu the President of the Indian National Congress?
  • 13- The Royal Tombs of Golconda
  • 14- Ecstasy
  • 15- Alabaster
  • 16- My Dead Dream
  • FAQs

1- Sarojini Naidu Poems: In the Bazaars of Hyderabad

Sarojini Naidu Poems

What do you sell, O ye merchants?

Richly your wares are displayed,

Turbans of crimson and silver,

Tunics of purple brocade,

Mirrors with panels of amber,

Daggers with handles of jade.

Explanation : 

In the poem “In the Bazaars of Hyderabad” the poet Sarojini Naidu portrays the bazaars of the city of Hyderabad. Naidu writes about the products being sold in the market like crimson Turbines, Mirrors with panels of amber, etc. The poem captures the colorful essence of the market and creates an image in the reader’s mind.

2- Indian Dancers

Blue, blue is the grass about the river

And the willows have overfilled the close garden.

And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth,

White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door.

Slender, she puts forth a slender hand;

And she was a courtezan in the old days,

And she has married a sot,

Who now goes drunkenly out and leaves her too much alone.

On a sunny threshold, in a still room,

Heavily sighs the remembering rose;

Outside, the ruined roses fall,

Yellow with heavy-scented blue, to the grasses.

Explanation :

The poem “The Indian Dancer” captures the style of a indian traditional dancer. Sarojini Naidu writes about the dancer’s dress, their movement, their rhythm, and their facial expression. In the poem, Naidu creates a scene in the brain of the readers of traditional Indian dancers showing their culture and tradition.

3- Sarojini Naidu Poems: Coromandel Fishers

Sarojini Naidu Poems

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.

Come, let us gather our nets from the shore and set our catamarans free,

To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for we are the kings of the sea!

Explanation : 

The poem “Coromandel Fishers” shows the efforts and struggles in the daily life of a fisherman. The poem describes the fisherman as the Emperor of the vast sea who is ready the conquer the sea. Naidu portrays the connection between nature and fisherman very beautifully. The poems show the elegance of the fishermen and their daily tasks.

4- To My Fairy Fancies

NAY, no longer I may hold you,

In my spirit’s white caresses,

I must be alone, to fold you

In a thousand wild caresses.

Dying, dying in the roses

Underneath the April moon,

Lives within my life a presence

Dying softly as a tune.

Explanation :

In The poem “To My Fairy Fancies” the poet Sarojini Naidu engaged in her own thoughts she embodied a Fairy Fancies. The poem is a soul-searching poem in which she having a conversation with her own thoughts. The is a great contrast between the reality of the world and the world of dreams.

5- Sarojini Naidu Poems: To the God of Pain

Sarojini Naidu Poems

UNWILLING priestess in thy cruel fane,

Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain,

Bound to thy worship by reluctant years,

With blood and tears.

And now at length relenting, thou hast given

The liberty of a single even,

That I may rise from these blood-crimsoned knees

And go in peace.

Yea, on this holy night, this night of grace,

Lifted above me is thy bloodless face,

The eyes regard me that I shall not see

Till I am free.

The eyes, the eyes, I feel them from afar,

They are like moons, thy hands, they touch my bar,

I do not dread them, but I dread thy breath,

Bloodthirsty Death!

Explanation :

The poem “To the God of Pain” is a psychological poem. In this poem, Naidu portrays pain as part of a human being and a human cannot live his life without pain, Naidu says that death is the ultimate end of human life. The use of strong language and metaphors brings out deep emotion inside the readers.

6- The Bangle Sellers

Bangle sellers are we who bear

Our shining loads to the temple fair…

Who will buy these delicate, bright

Rainbow-tinted circles of light?

Lustrous tokens of radiant lives,

For happy daughters and happy wives.

Some are meet for a maiden’s wrist,

Silver and blue as the mountain mist,

Some are flushed like the buds that dream

On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream,

Some are aglow with the bloom that cleaves

To the limpid glory of new born leaves

Some are like fields of sunlit corn,

Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,

Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,

Or, rich with the hue of her heart’s desire,

Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear,

Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.

Some are purple and gold flecked grey

For she who has journeyed through life midway,

Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest,

And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast,

And serves her household in fruitful pride,

And worships the gods at her husband’s side.

A nation’s women return to her,

As men’s deeds are they blazoned forth,

For we are the same as our masters are,

Till life or the breath be taken away,

And we rise from the shadows that drape us and follow those

That have led us, the guides of our pilgrimage way.

Explanation :

The poem “The Bangle Seller” is appreciated for its vivid imagery and cultural richness. The poem shows the Bangle seller, describing the different colors of the Bangles. The poet says that Bnangle sellers are not just merchants but bearers of culture and tradition. The poem reflects the essence of femininity and the celebration of womanhood, emphasizing the deep cultural importance attached to these simple yet meaningful ornaments. 

What is the nickname given to Sarojini Naidu?

 Bharat Kokila or the Nightingale of India is the nickname of Sarojini Naidu.

7- Indian Weavers

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

Explanation :

The poem “Indian Weavers” is a communication between the poet and an Indian Weaver. The poet questions the Indian Weaver about the vibrant and bright garments they create. The weaver replied by signifying their garments, the weaver says that each garment signifies a different occasion such as newborn, marriage, and death. The garment shows different points of life.

Why was Sarojini Naidu called the Nightingale of India?

Sarojini Naidu was called the Nightingale of India because her poems are rich in imagery and emotions.

8- The Pardah Nashin

Her life is a revolving dream

Of languid and sequestered ease;

Her girdles and her fillets gleam

Like changing fires on sunset seas;

Her raiment is like morning mist,

Shot opal, gold and amethyst.

Her laughter is a sudden thrush

That sings about the rosy dawn,

She dwells amid the crimson flush

Of sunset on the lawns withdrawn;

I would not be a king, she said,

And thread the rubies of a throne,

But rather barter diadem

For iron ribbons, roughly spread

Beneath the hoofs of hurrying men,

Rude plumes and scalps and fingered stones.

The roofs and walls her kings adorn

With crowns and carven adamant,

And round her like a milky dawn

The starry spheres of heaven slant;

And bright and passionate life is hurled

Across the irised fringe of things,

And splendour broods above the world,

And beauty clasps the knees of kings.

I am too young for sorrow, she said,

And too impetuous for fears,

Too young for gladness, and too red,

Amid the glories of my years.

Yet in the night she wakes from sleep,

When the winds like rent mantles fall,

When the sad ocean soaks and weeps

On his deserted coral wall;

She sees a sail come up the dark,

A hawk slip sideways from the blue,

A girdle break, a casement hark

The night’s first whisper in the dew.

The dark ship lowers its sable sails,

The strong breeze drives it on the strand;

The lattices and casements flinch

And quiver to her shaking hand,

The shadowy wedded waters swim

Across her chamber, chill and grim.

In ghostly light the coral caves

And rocks and weedy ways are seen,

A ring of pallid parrots paves

A palace floor of peagreen,

High in the silver walls there stands

A golden seat of dim device,

And on the margin of her lands

She sees her husband’s hollow eyes.

The rest is gone: she only hears

The harsh laugh of the sad sea-sprays,

She sees but dimly, and she fears

To feel the hours grow long and leaden

The hopes grow cold and turn to deaden

Her timid footstep on the sands.

She hides her face among her hands

And shrieks aloud. The casement flies

Wide open to the empty night,

The pale sands split and sink away,

And through the doorway’s crevice sprays

A long white finger on the floor,

A little cloud with rosy mouth

Drinks in the sunlight like sweet wine,

And round it, like a silver moth,

Bright-throated flowers flutter by,

And with its breath it scatters light

Into the shadowy afternoon,

And fills the room with flower and sun.

Then in the silence she descries

A sombre face, with mournful eyes

And weary lips, that look below,

And leaves her weeping, where she lies,

And lifts her up and bids her go

Into a land of mist and snow,

A land that on a lofty brow

Looks toward the crimson-glowing West,

Where the rough wind blows loud and long,

And the whole world shall be at rest

And have no breath and have no song,

And only watch the wave of night

Flow up the eastern steeps like water,

And glimmer to the sombre verge

Where muffled stars and planets verge

Into the swallowing throat of light,

And the low sun in his red hearse

Sets towards the land of tears and sighs,

And mourns with cloudy hair and eyes

Amid the virginal universe

That bares its bosom to the skies,

And shivers in the midnight cold

When he is gone and all is old.

Then she beholds his shadowy hands

Turn in the land of the snow

A heavy shroud for her alone,

And hew the heavy tomb that stands

Far off, and like a ghostly key

Unlock the gates and let her down

Into the land of dust and clod,

Where all things are forgot by man,

Where none can see or hear or scan

The wan world wizen like a pod,

And piteous through the night there flies

The flower of a woman’s cries,

And there she wanders pale and slow

Where her poor name was long ago,

And many an aged hermit sees

The two soft crescents of her eyes

Flash in the twilight like a breeze

Across the daisy-dappled leas

And blossom through the golden brooms

Of solitude with their brown glooms,

And one poor hag who, bending, found

A dead, bright rose upon the ground,

Who died before she saw the sea,

The wrinkled hag of seventy,

Creeps out along the mountain ways,

To walk beneath the silver haze,

And weaves a thin and silver thread

Across the rosy day’s delight,

And sends a little page, white-winged

With silver sandal and soft word,

To light in far land ways unheard,

A little light, that leads unseen

To where the golden days are spent

And the light leaves of morning blent

With rose leaves where the day was green.

Explanation :

In the poem “The Pardah Nashin” the poet portrays the life of a woman who is kept behind the veil, separated from the world. The poem shows the sequestered life, her dreams, her want for freedom, and her life experiences behind the veil. The theme of the poem explores freedom, longing, and imaging the world outside. 

9- The Gift of India

Is there ought you need that my hands withhold,

Rich gifts of raiment or grain or gold?

Lo, I have flung to the East and the West

Priceless treasures torn from my breast,

And yielded the sons of my stricken womb

To the drum-beats of the duty, the sabers of doom.

Gathered like pearls in their alien graves

Silent they sleep by the Persian waves,

Scattered like shells on Egyptian sands,

They lie with pale brows and brave, broken hands,

They are strewn like blossoms mowed down by chance

On the blood-brown meadows of Flanders and France.

Can ye measure the grief of the tears I weep

Or compass the woe of the watch I keep?

Or the pride that thrills through my heart’s despair

And the hope that comforts the anguish of prayer?

And the far sad glorious vision I see

Of the torn red banners of victory?

 

When the terror and tumult of hate shall cease

And life be refashioned on anvils of peace,

And your love shall offer memorial thanks

To the comrades who fought on the dauntless ranks,

And you honour the deeds of the dauntless ones,

Remember the blood of my martyred sons!

Explanation :

The poem “The Gift of India” is a patriotic poem by Sarojini Naidu. The poem is a tribute to all the soldiers during World War 1. In this poem, Naidu portrays India as a nurturing mother who selflessly offers her sons for the war effort. The poem captures the immense courage, patriotism, and sacrifice of the Indian soldiers who fought on foreign shores.

When did Sarojini Naidu die?

Sarojini Naidu died on 2 March 1949.

10- The Queen’s Rival

Queen  Gulnaar sat on her ivory bed,

Around her countless treasures were spread;

Her chamber walls were richly inlaid

With agate, porphory, onyx and jade;

The tissues that veiled her delicate breast,

Glowed with the hues of a lapwing’s crest;

But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed

“O King, my heart is unsatisfied.”

 King Feroz bent from his ebony seat:

“Is thy least desire unfulfilled, O Sweet?

 “Let thy mouth speak and my life be spent

To clear the sky of thy discontent.”

 “I tire of my beauty, I tire of this

Empty splendour and shadowless bliss;

 “With none to envy and none gainsay,

No savour or salt hath my dream or day.”

 Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose:

“Give me a rival, O King Feroz.”

King Feroz spoke to his Chief Vizier:

“Lo! ere to-morrow’s dawn be here,

 “Send forth my messengers over the sea,

To seek seven beautiful brides for me;

 “Radiant of feature and regal of mien,

Seven handmaids meet for the Persian Queen.” . . . . .

 Seven new moon tides at the Vesper call,

King Feroz led to Queen Gulnaar’s hall

 A young queen eyed like the morning star:

“I bring thee a rival, O Queen Gulnaar.”

 But still she gazed in her mirror and sighed:

“O King, my heart is unsatisfied.”

 Seven queens shone around her ivory bed,

Like seven soft gems on a silken thread,

 Like seven fair lamps in a royal tower,

Like seven bright petals of Beauty’s flower

 Queen Gulnaar sighed like a murmuring rose

“Where is my rival, O King Feroz?”

Explanation :

The poem “The Queen’s Rival” explores the life of the Queen who was a rival to Elizabeth I of England. The poem delves into the complex emotions and struggles faced by Mary as she contends with her royal lineage, her ambitions, and the political intrigue of her time. Naidu paints a vivid picture of the historical context, capturing the grandeur of the royal courts and the tumultuous political climate. 

Did Sarojini Naidu win the Nobel prize?

No, Sarojini Naidu did not win the Nobel prize.

11- The Snake Charmer

WHITHER dost thou hide from the magic of my flute-call?

In what moonlight-tangled meshes of perfume,

Where the clustering keovas guard the squirrel’s slumber,

Where the deep woods glimmer with the jasmine’s bloom?

I’ll feed thee, O beloved, on milk and wild red honey,

I’ll bear thee in a basket of rushes, green and white,

To a palace-bower where golden-vested maidens

Thread with mellow laughter the petals of delight.

Whither dost thou loiter, by what murmuring hollows,

Where do oleanders scatter their ambrosial fire?

Come, thou subtle bride of my mellifluous wooing,

Come, thou silver-breasted moonbeam of de-sire!

Explanation :

“The Snake Charmer” by Sarojini Naidu is a vivid and descriptive poem that captures the enigmatic art of snake charming in India. In this poem, Naidu portrays the snake charmer as a mystical figure, his fingers fluttering like birds, coaxing the dangerous snakes to dance to his tunes. The poem explores the mesmerizing and dangerous nature of this ancient practice, where serpents, often feared creatures, are tamed and controlled by the melodies of the charmer’s flute

What is the name of Sarojini Naidu’s mother?

Barada Sundari Devi was the name of Sarojini Naidu’s mother.

12- To Youth

O  youth, sweet comrade Youth, wouldst thou be gone?

Long have we dwelt together, thou and I;

Together drunk of many an alien dawn,

And plucked the fruit of many an alien sky.

Ah, fickle friend, must I, who yesterday

Dreamed forwards to long, undimmed ecstasy,

Henceforward dream, because thou wilt not stay,

Backward to transient pleasure and to thee?

I give thee back thy false, ephemeral vow;

But, O beloved comrade, ere we part,

Upon my mournful eyelids and my brow

Kiss me who hold thine image in my heart.

Explanation :

“To Youth” is a poem by Sarojini Naidu, an acclaimed Indian poet and a prominent figure in the Indian independence movement. In this poem, Naidu addresses the youth of India, urging them to rise to their full potential and take charge of the nation’s destiny. 

Was Sarojini Naidu the President of the Indian National Congress?

Yes, Sarojini Naidu was the former president of the Indian National Congress in 1925.

13- The Royal Tombs of Golconda

I MUSE among these silent fanes

Whose spacious darkness guards your dust;

Around me sleep the hoary plains

That hold your ancient wars in trust.

I pause, my dreaming spirit hears,

Across the wind’s unquiet tides,

The glimmering music of your spears,

The laughter of your royal brides.

In vain, O Kings, doth time aspire

To make your names oblivion’s sport,

While yonder hill wears like a tier

The ruined grandeur of your fort.

Though centuries falter and decline,

Your proven strongholds shall remain

Embodied memories of your line,

Incarnate legends of your reign.

O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed

Your flower-like bodies to the tomb;

Death is in truth the vital seed

Of your imperishable bloom

Each new-born year the bulbuls sing

Their songs of your renascent loves;

Your beauty wakens with the spring

To kindle these pomegranate groves.

Explanation :

“The Royal Tombs of Golconda” is a poem by Sarojini Naidu, the renowned Indian poet. In this poem, Naidu beautifully captures the historical significance and grandeur of the Golconda Fort and its royal tombs. She paints a vivid picture of the majestic architecture and the regal ambiance of the tombs, reflecting the splendor of the past. 

14- Ecstasy

I wondered alone in the grottoes of pleasure

Where the passion flowers poignantly sweet

Hide the hearts of their victims by leisure

To a hundred rose petals beat.

I whispered, “O happiness, crystal, where art thou?

I seek thee in vain as I roam.

Where the dolphins that gleam through the luminous blue

Where the sands of the desert foam.”

Then into my desolate heart there fell

A single, a faintly breathed sigh,

And a bell seemed to sound and it told me a knell

As it passed through the desolate sky.

And I knew by that sign that ecstasy lay

In a land that I never should find,

In a land that was ever as far, far away

As the dreams of a dreamer’s mind.

Explanation :

In the poem “Ecstasy,” Sarojini Naidu explores the elusive nature of happiness and ecstasy. The speaker, feeling lost and searching for joy, wanders through the metaphorical “grottoes of pleasure,” hoping to find happiness among the fleeting moments of pleasure. The poem conveys a sense of yearning and the idea that true happiness often feels distant and unattainable, as represented by the unreachable land described in the verses.

15- Alabaster

Sarojini Naidu Poems:

Like this alabaster box whose art

Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart,

Carven with delicate dreams and wrought

With many a subtle and exquisite thought.

Therein I treasure the spice and scent

Of rich and passionate memories blent

Like odours of cinnamon, sandal and clove,

Of song and sorrow and life and love.

Explanation :

The poem describes a statue carved out of alabaster, a fine-grained, translucent form of gypsum or calcite. The statue, representing a beautiful woman, is depicted as standing in a serene and ethereal manner. The poem reflects on the perfection of the statue’s form, comparing it to the purity of alabaster and emphasizing the delicate craftsmanship that has immortalized the woman’s beauty.

16- My Dead Dream

HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago

You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow.

Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep

And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep?

Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands of leaves?

Would you scare the white, nested, wild pigeons of joy from my eaves?

Would you touch and defile with dead fingers the robes of my priest?

Would you weave your dim moan with the chantings of love at my feast?

Go back to your grave, O my Dream, under forests of snow,

Where a heart-riven child hid you once, seven eons ago.

Who bade you arise from your darkness? I bid you depart!

Profane not the shrines I have raised in the clefts of my heart.

Explanation :

The poem is about the wandering singers who engage their entire life in singing for others’ pleasure and never mind about his pleasure. The poet Sarojini Naidu is a great poet to painted the life of wandering singers in poetic words.

FAQs

  • Who was Sarojini Naidu?

Sarojini Naidu was a poet, journalist, political leader and activist.

  • What are Sarojini Naidu’s most famous poem?

“The Bangle Seller” and “The Gift Of India” are the most famous Sarojini Naidu Poems.

  • Who was the first Indian woman President of the Indian National Congress?

Sarojini Naidu was the first Indian woman President of the Indian National Congress.

These were all the best poems of Sarojini Naidu we hope you like them. Stay tuned for more updates and poems.

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