Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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will is nursed by an ethereal Power

      And fed on the white milk of the Eternal’s strengths

      Till it grows into the likeness of a god.

      In the Witness’s occult rooms with mind-built walls

      On hidden interiors, lurking passages

      Opened the windows of the inner sight.

      He owned the house of undivided Time.

      Lifting the heavy curtain of the flesh

      He stood upon a threshold serpent-watched,

      And peered into gleaming endless corridors,

      Silent and listening in the silent heart

      For the coming of the new and the unknown.

      He gazed across the empty stillnesses

      And heard the footsteps of the undreamed Idea

      In the far avenues of the Beyond.

      He heard the secret Voice, the Word that knows,

      And saw the secret face that is our own.

      The inner planes uncovered their crystal doors;

      Strange powers and influences touched his life.

      A vision came of higher realms than ours,

      A consciousness of brighter fields and skies,

      Of beings less circumscribed than brief-lived men

      And subtler bodies than these passing frames,

      Objects too fine for our material grasp,

      Acts vibrant with a superhuman light

      And movements pushed by a superconscient force,

      And joys that never flowed through mortal limbs,

      And lovelier scenes than earth’s and happier lives.

      A consciousness of beauty and of bliss,

      A knowledge which became what it perceived,

      Replaced the separated sense and heart

      And drew all Nature into its embrace.

      The mind leaned out to meet the hidden worlds:

      Air glowed and teemed with marvellous shapes and hues,

      In the nostrils quivered celestial fragrances,

      On the tongue lingered the honey of paradise.

      A channel of universal harmony,

      Hearing was a stream of magic audience,

      A bed for occult sounds earth cannot hear.

      Out of a covert tract of slumber self

      The voice came of a truth submerged, unknown

      That flows beneath the cosmic surfaces,

      Only mid an omniscient silence heard,

      Held by intuitive heart and secret sense.

      It caught the burden of secrecies sealed and dumb,

      It voiced the unfulfilled demand of earth

      And the song of promise of unrealised heavens

      And all that hides in an omnipotent Sleep.

      In the unceasing drama carried by Time

      On its long listening flood that bears the world’s

      Insoluble doubt on a pilgrimage without goal,

      A laughter of sleepless pleasure foamed and spumed

      And murmurings of desire that cannot die:

      A cry came of the world’s delight to be,

      The grandeur and greatness of its will to live,

      Recall of the soul’s adventure into space,

      A traveller through the magic centuries

      And being’s labour in Matter’s universe,

      Its search for the mystic meaning of its birth

      And joy of high spiritual response,

      Its throb of satisfaction and content

      In all the sweetness of the gifts of life,

      Its large breath and pulse and thrill of hope and fear,

      Its taste of pangs and tears and ecstasy,

      Its rapture’s poignant beat of sudden bliss,

      The sob of its passion and unending pain.

      The murmur and whisper of the unheard sounds

      Which crowd around our hearts but find no window

      To enter, swelled into a canticle

      Of all that suffers to be still unknown

      And all that labours vainly to be born

      And all the sweetness none will ever taste

      And all the beauty that will never be.

      Inaudible to our deaf mortal ears

      The wide world-rhythms wove their stupendous chant

      To which life strives to fit our rhyme-beats here,

      Melting our limits in the illimitable,

      Tuning the finite to infinity.

      A low muttering rose from the subconscient caves,

      The stammer of the primal ignorance;

      Answer to that inarticulate questioning,

      There stooped with lightning neck and thunder’s wings

      A radiant hymn to the Inexpressible

      And the anthem of the superconscient light.

      All was revealed there none can here express;

      Vision and dream were fables spoken by truth

      Or symbols more veridical than fact,

      Or

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