135 Quotes About Nithin-purple

Why lamenting Nature, for you have done on Earth and high Heavens the most adorned works,your hues spread the jocund rainbow shine,and blissful thoughts of breeze are awakened,yet like a tainted maid,you droop and wept, sad below the bleak, barren fields, concealed from the steep views,that human kept,and a white cloud of peace in you dissolved.

The early dew-falls that did a pristine coating,over the woods with its finest transparency,glazed as like its wet white-glassy earrings that hung on the ears of wild flowers—unlatched my fancy.

Being a poetic heart is more like a throbbing self, a pretty melancholic wave inward tides,for many a time I begged the living world's mercy and how many times you fade my dreams at every day break.

The lilac moon came high an altitude from mine to clasp its beauty,yet next to my bosom hide, lies she,like ten thousand silver moons illumine;and her soul’s music showered words as she spoke wide.

The clear, peaceful mind,the mind runs for Creativity,for a pouring river song,the mind meets the Muse,in such a transcendental junction,o yes!Creativity blooms in abundance,the world enlightens.

The day arrived,when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears—an altar for the beloved one's departure,for sister-hood is no more,for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscule came like a phantom,the mournful,gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.

If ‘beauty’ be the self-satisfied pride she bears,each fly does wing around her cherubic sweet face,as they; lovers seek what her anonymous covers,and dream them in a transient trace.

Meandering the soul, poor wretch baffl'd kid,whence shall go and wherefore it strives to hourly fate,irregular, perplexed, timely wet and frigid—by life, naive is you and fierce too your dispute.

The Revolution never going to die, it is still flowing in my nerves of steel. I listened,a stone is breaking, a thunder striking on the skies, revolution in the eyes of us bright,in the middle of us sound and with us it has coloring waves,now revolution is our broken finding in the middle of maddened soul, its thrill is yet breaking for courage.