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.
Sarojini Naidu's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Indian Weavers by Sarojini Naidu )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- *Stray Thoughts, C. P. Sharma
- Shame-Shame Israel, Aftab Alam
- Paths Of Childhood, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- lips of flower, Aftab Alam
- Sin Salida, Edwin Cordero
- jeene ka karishma|, Aftab Alam
- *My confused mood, C. P. Sharma
- Dear! i Still Love You, Rimni chakravarty
- To vacuum, SALINI NAIR
- Concept's Thresholds, RoseAnn V. Shawiak