Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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Nothingness born to Nothingness returned,

      Yet all the time unwittingly it drove

      Towards the hidden Something that is All.

      Ardent to find, incapable to retain,

      A brilliant instability was its mark,

      To err its inborn trend, its native cue.

      At once to an unreflecting credence prone,

      It thought all true that flattered its own hopes;

      It cherished golden nothings born of wish,

      It snatched at the unreal for provender.

      In darkness it discovered luminous shapes;

      Peering into a shadow-hung half-light

      It saw hued images scrawled on Fancy’s cave;

      Or it swept in circles through conjecture’s night

      And caught in imagination’s camera

      Bright scenes of promise held by transient flares,

      Fixed in life’s air the feet of hurrying dreams,

      Kept prints of passing Forms and hooded Powers

      And flash-images of half-seen verities.

      An eager spring to seize and to possess

      Unguided by reason or the seeing soul

      Was its first natural motion and its last,

      It squandered life’s force to achieve the impossible:

      It scorned the straight road and ran on wandering curves

      And left what it had won for untried things;

      It saw unrealised aims as instant fate

      And chose the precipice for its leap to heaven.

      Adventure its system in the gamble of life,

      It took fortuitous gains as safe results;

      Error discouraged not its confident view

      Ignorant of the deep law of being’s ways

      And failure could not slow its fiery clutch;

      One chance made true warranted all the rest.

      Attempt, not victory, was the charm of life.

      An uncertain winner of uncertain stakes,

      Instinct its dam and the life-mind its sire,

      It ran its race and came in first or last.

      Yet were its works nor small and vain nor null;

      It nursed a portion of infinity’s strength

      And could create the high things its fancy willed;

      Its passion caught what calm intelligence missed.

      Insight of impulse laid its leaping grasp

      On heavens high Thought had hidden in dazzling mist,

      Caught glimmers that revealed a lurking sun:

      It probed the void and found a treasure there.

      A half-intuition purpled in its sense;

      It threw the lightning’s fork and hit the unseen.

      It saw in the dark and vaguely blinked in the light,

      Ignorance was its field, the unknown its prize.

      Of all these Powers the greatest was the last.

      Arriving late from a far plane of thought

      Into a packed irrational world of Chance

      Where all was grossly felt and blindly done,

      Yet the haphazard seemed the inevitable,

      Came Reason, the squat godhead artisan,

      To her narrow house upon a ridge in Time.

      Adept of clear contrivance and design,

      A pensive face and close and peering eyes,

      She took her firm and irremovable seat,

      The strongest, wisest of the troll-like Three.

      Armed with her lens and measuring-rod and probe,

      She looked upon an object universe

      And the multitudes that in it live and die

      And the body of Space and the fleeing soul of Time,

      And took the earth and stars into her hands

      To try what she could make of these strange things.

      In her strong purposeful laborious mind,

      Inventing her scheme-lines of reality

      And the geometric curves of her time-plan,

      She multiplied her slow half-cuts at Truth:

      Impatient of enigma and the unknown,

      Intolerant of the lawless and the unique,

      Imposing reflection on the march of Force,

      Imposing clarity on the unfathomable,

      She strove to reduce to rules the mystic world.

      Nothing she knew but all things hoped to know.

      In dark inconscient realms once void of thought,

      Missioned by a supreme Intelligence

      To throw its ray upon the obscure Vast,

      An imperfect light leading an erring mass

      By the power of sense and the idea and word,

      She ferrets out Nature’s process, substance, cause.

      All life to harmonise by thought’s control,

      She with the huge imbroglio struggles still;

      Ignorant of all but her own seeking mind

      To save the world from Ignorance she came.

      A sovereign worker through the centuries

      Observing

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