Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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eliminate;

      What he invented not, I shall invent:

      He was the first creator, I am the last.

      I have found the atoms from which he built the worlds:

      The first tremendous cosmic energy

      Missioned shall leap to slay my enemy kin,

      Expunge a nation or abolish a race,

      Death’s silence leave where there was laughter and joy.

      Or the fissured invisible shall spend God’s force

      To extend my comforts and expand my wealth,

      To speed my car which now the lightnings drive

      And turn the engines of my miracles.

      I will take his means of sorcery from his hands

      And do with them greater wonders than his best.

      Yet through it all I have kept my balanced thought;

      I have studied my being, I have examined the world,

      I have grown a master of the arts of life.

      I have tamed the wild beast, trained to be my friend;

      He guards my house, looks up waiting my will.

      I have taught my kind to serve and to obey.

      I have used the mystery of the cosmic waves

      To see far distance and to hear far words;

      I have conquered Space and knitted close all earth.

      Soon I shall know the secrets of the Mind;

      I play with knowledge and with ignorance

      And sin and virtue my inventions are

      I can transcend or sovereignly use.

      I shall know mystic truths, seize occult powers.

      I shall slay my enemies with a look or thought,

      I shall sense the unspoken feelings of all hearts

      And see and hear the hidden thoughts of men.

      When earth is mastered, I shall conquer heaven;

      The gods shall be my aides or menial folk,

      No wish I harbour unfulfilled shall die:

      Omnipotence and omniscience shall be mine.”

      And Savitri heard the voice, the warped echo heard

      And turning to her being of power she spoke:

      “Madonna of might, Mother of works and force,

      Thou art a portion of my soul put forth

      To help mankind and help the travail of Time.

      Because thou art in him, man hopes and dares;

      Because thou art, men’s souls can climb the heavens

      And walk like gods in the presence of the Supreme.

      But without wisdom power is like a wind,

      It can breathe upon the heights and kiss the sky,

      It cannot build the extreme eternal things.

      Thou hast given men strength, wisdom thou couldst not give.

      One day I will return, a bringer of light;

      Then will I give to thee the mirror of God;

      Thou shalt see self and world as by him they are seen

      Reflected in the bright pool of thy soul.

      Thy wisdom shall be vast as vast thy power.

      Then hate shall dwell no more in human hearts,

      And fear and weakness shall desert men’s lives,

      The cry of the ego shall be hushed within,

      Its lion roar that claims the world as food,

      All shall be might and bliss and happy force.”

      Ascending still her spirit’s upward route

      She came into a high and happy space,

      A wide tower of vision whence all could be seen

      And all was centred in a single view

      As when by distance separate scenes grow one

      And a harmony is made of hues at war.

      The wind was still and fragrance packed the air.

      There was a carol of birds and murmur of bees,

      And all that is common and natural and sweet,

      Yet intimately divine to heart and soul.

      A nearness thrilled of the spirit to its source

      And deepest things seemed obvious, close and true.

      Here, living centre of that vision of peace,

      A Woman sat in clear and crystal light:

      Heaven had unveiled its lustre in her eyes,

      Her feet were moonbeams, her face was a bright sun,

      Her smile could persuade a dead lacerated heart

      To live again and feel the hands of calm.

      A low music heard became her floating voice:

      “O Savitri, I am thy secret soul.

      I have come down to the wounded desolate earth

      To heal her pangs and lull her heart to rest

      And lay her head upon the Mother’s lap

      That she may dream of God and know his peace

      And draw the harmony of higher spheres

      Into the rhythm of earth’s rude troubled days.

      I show to her the figures of bright gods

      And bring strength and solace to her struggling life;

      High things that now are only words and forms

      I

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