Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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      Voices that communed still with the thoughts of God,

      Bodies made beautiful by the spirit’s light,

      Carrying the magic word, the mystic fire,

      Carrying the Dionysian cup of joy,

      Approaching eyes of a diviner man,

      Lips chanting an unknown anthem of the soul,

      Feet echoing in the corridors of Time.

      High priests of wisdom, sweetness, might and bliss,

      Discoverers of beauty’s sunlit ways

      And swimmers of Love’s laughing fiery floods

      And dancers within rapture’s golden doors,

      Their tread one day shall change the suffering earth

      And justify the light on Nature’s face.

      Although Fate lingers in the high Beyond

      And the work seems vain on which our heart’s force was spent,

      All shall be done for which our pain was borne.

      Even as of old man came behind the beast

      This high divine successor surely shall come

      Behind man’s inefficient mortal pace,

      Behind his vain labour, sweat and blood and tears:

      He shall know what mortal mind barely durst think,

      He shall do what the heart of the mortal could not dare.

      Inheritor of the toil of human time,

      He shall take on him the burden of the gods;

      All heavenly light shall visit the earth’s thoughts,

      The might of heaven shall fortify earthly hearts;

      Earth’s deeds shall touch the superhuman’s height,

      Earth’s seeing widen into the infinite.

      Heavy unchanged weighs still the imperfect world;

      The splendid youth of Time has passed and failed;

      Heavy and long are the years our labour counts

      And still the seals are firm upon man’s soul

      And weary is the ancient Mother’s heart.

      O Truth defended in thy secret sun,

      Voice of her mighty musings in shut heavens

      On things withdrawn within her luminous depths,

      O Wisdom-Splendour, Mother of the universe,

      Creatrix, the Eternal’s artist Bride,

      Linger not long with thy transmuting hand

      Pressed vainly on one golden bar of Time,

      As if Time dare not open its heart to God.

      O radiant fountain of the world’s delight

      World-free and unattainable above,

      O Bliss who ever dwellst deep-hid within

      While men seek thee outside and never find,

      Mystery and Muse with hieratic tongue,

      Incarnate the white passion of thy force,

      Mission to earth some living form of thee.

      One moment fill with thy eternity,

      Let thy infinity in one body live,

      All-Knowledge wrap one mind in seas of light,

      All-Love throb single in one human heart.

      Immortal, treading the earth with mortal feet

      All heaven’s beauty crowd in earthly limbs!

      Omnipotence, girdle with the power of God

      Movements and moments of a mortal will,

      Pack with the eternal might one human hour

      And with one gesture change all future time.

      Let a great word be spoken from the heights

      And one great act unlock the doors of Fate.”

      His prayer sank down in the resisting Night

      Oppressed by the thousand forces that deny,

      As if too weak to climb to the Supreme.

      But there arose a wide consenting Voice;

      The spirit of beauty was revealed in sound:

      Light floated round the marvellous Vision’s brow

      And on her lips the Immortal’s joy took shape.

      “O strong forerunner, I have heard thy cry.

      One shall descend and break the iron Law,

      Change Nature’s doom by the lone spirit’s power.

      A limitless Mind that can contain the world,

      A sweet and violent heart of ardent calms

      Moved by the passions of the gods shall come.

      All mights and greatnesses shall join in her;

      Beauty shall walk celestial on the earth,

      Delight shall sleep in the cloud-net of her hair,

      And in her body as on his homing tree

      Immortal Love shall beat his glorious wings.

      A music of griefless things shall weave her charm;

      The harps of the Perfect shall attune her voice,

      The streams of Heaven shall murmur in her laugh,

      Her lips shall be the honeycombs of God,

      Her limbs his golden jars of ecstasy,

      Her breasts the rapture-flowers of Paradise.

      She shall bear Wisdom in her voiceless bosom,

      Strength shall be with her like a conqueror’s

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