Bangle sellers are we who bear <br />Our shining loads to the temple fair... <br />Who will buy these delicate, bright <br />Rainbow-tinted circles of light? <br />Lustrous tokens of radiant lives, <br />For happy daughters and happy wives. <br /> <br />Some are meet for a maiden's wrist, <br />Silver and blue as the mountain mist, <br />Some are flushed like the buds that dream <br />On the tranquil brow of a woodland stream, <br />Some are aglow wth the bloom that cleaves <br />To the limpid glory of new born leaves <br /> <br />Some are like fields of sunlit corn, <br />Meet for a bride on her bridal morn, <br />Some, like the flame of her marriage fire, <br />Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire, <br />Tinkling, luminous, tender, and clear, <br />Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear. <br /> <br />Some are purple and gold flecked grey <br />For she who has journeyed through life midway, <br />Whose hands have cherished, whose love has blest, <br />And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast, <br />And serves her household in fruitful pride, <br />And worships the gods at her husband's side.<br /><br />Sarojini Naidu<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bangle-sellers/
