Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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by its influence found the ways of calm.

      The Infants of the monarchy of the worlds,

      The heroic leaders of a coming time,

      King-children nurtured in that spacious air

      Like lions gambolling in sky and sun

      Received half-consciously their godlike stamp:

      Formed in the type of the high thoughts they sang

      They learned the wide magnificence of mood

      That makes us comrades of the cosmic urge,

      No longer chained to their small separate selves,

      Plastic and firm beneath the eternal hand,

      Met Nature with a bold and friendly clasp

      And served in her the Power that shapes her works.

      One-souled to all and free from narrowing bonds,

      Large like a continent of warm sunshine

      In wide equality’s impartial joy,

      These sages breathed for God’s delight in things.

      Assisting the slow entries of the gods,

      Sowing in young minds immortal thoughts they lived,

      Taught the great Truth to which man’s race must rise

      Or opened the gates of freedom to a few.

      Imparting to our struggling world the Light

      They breathed like spirits from Time’s dull yoke released,

      Comrades and vessels of the cosmic Force,

      Using a natural mastery like the sun’s:

      Their speech, their silence was a help to earth.

      A magic happiness flowed from their touch;

      Oneness was sovereign in that sylvan peace,

      The wild beast joined in friendship with its prey;

      Persuading the hatred and the strife to cease

      The love that flows from the one Mother’s breast

      Healed with their hearts the hard and wounded world.

      Others escaped from the confines of thought

      To where Mind motionless sleeps waiting Light’s birth,

      And came back quivering with a nameless Force,

      Drunk with a wine of lightning in their cells;

      Intuitive knowledge leaping into speech,

      Seized, vibrant, kindling with the inspired word,

      Hearing the subtle voice that clothes the heavens,

      Carrying the splendour that has lit the suns,

      They sang Infinity’s names and deathless powers

      In metres that reflect the moving worlds,

      Sight’s sound-waves breaking from the soul’s great deeps.

      Some lost to the person and his strip of thought

      In a motionless ocean of impersonal Power,

      Sat mighty, visioned with the Infinite’s light,

      Or, comrades of the everlasting Will,

      Surveyed the plan of past and future Time.

      Some winged like birds out of the cosmic sea

      And vanished into a bright and featureless Vast:

      Some silent watched the universal dance,

      Or helped the world by world-indifference.

      Some watched no more merged in a lonely Self,

      Absorbed in the trance from which no soul returns,

      All the occult world-lines for ever closed,

      The chains of birth and person cast away:

      Some uncompanioned reached the Ineffable.

      As floats a sunbeam through a shady place,

      The golden virgin in her carven car

      Came gliding among meditation’s seats.

      Often in twilight mid returning troops

      Of cattle thickening with their dust the shades

      When the loud day had slipped below the verge,

      Arriving in a peaceful hermit grove

      She rested drawing round her like a cloak

      Its spirit of patient muse and potent prayer.

      Or near to a lion river’s tawny mane

      And trees that worshipped on a praying shore,

      A domed and templed air’s serene repose

      Beckoned to her hurrying wheels to stay their speed.

      In the solemnity of a space that seemed

      A mind remembering ancient silences,

      Where to the heart great bygone voices called

      And the large liberty of brooding seers

      Had left the long impress of their soul’s scene,

      Awake in candid dawn or darkness mooned,

      To the still touch inclined the daughter of Flame

      Drank in hushed splendour between tranquil lids

      And felt the kinship of eternal calm.

      But morn broke in reminding her of her quest

      And from low rustic couch or mat she rose

      And went impelled on her unfinished way

      And followed the fateful orbit of her life

      Like a desire that questions silent gods

      Then passes starlike to some bright Beyond.

      Thence to great solitary tracts she came,

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