Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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      Where we can live the masters of our world

      And mind is only a means and body a tool.

      For above the birth of body and of thought

      Our spirit’s truth lives in the naked self

      And from that height, unbound, surveys the world.

      Out of the mind she rose to escape its law

      That it might sleep in some deep shadow of self

      Or fall silent in the silence of the Unseen.

      High she attained and stood from Nature free

      And saw creation’s life from far above,

      Thence upon all she laid her sovereign will

      To dedicate it to God’s timeless calm:

      Then all grew tranquil in her being’s space,

      Only sometimes small thoughts arose and fell

      Like quiet waves upon a silent sea

      Or ripples passing over a lonely pool

      When a stray stone disturbs its dreaming rest.

      Yet the mind’s factory had ceased to work,

      There was no sound of the dynamo’s throb,

      There came no call from the still fields of life.

      Then even those stirrings rose in her no more;

      Her mind now seemed like a vast empty room

      Or like a peaceful landscape without sound.

      This men call quietude and prize as peace.

      But to her deeper sight all yet was there,

      Effervescing like a chaos under a lid;

      Feelings and thoughts cried out for word and act

      But found no response in the silenced brain:

      All was suppressed but nothing yet expunged;

      At every moment might explosion come.

      Then this too paused; the body seemed a stone.

      All now was a wide mighty vacancy,

      But still excluded from eternity’s hush;

      For still was far the repose of the Absolute

      And the ocean silence of Infinity.

      Even now some thoughts could cross her solitude;

      These surged not from the depths or from within

      Cast up from formlessness to seek a form,

      Spoke not the body’s need nor voiced life’s call.

      These seemed not born nor made in human Time:

      Children of cosmic Nature from a far world,

      Idea’s shapes in complete armour of words

      Posted like travellers in an alien space.

      Out of some far expanse they seemed to come

      As if carried on vast wings like large white sails,

      And with easy access reached the inner ear

      As though they used a natural privileged right

      To the high royal entries of the soul.

      As yet their path lay deep-concealed in light.

      Then looking to know whence the intruders came

      She saw a spiritual immensity

      Pervading and encompassing the world-space

      As ether our transparent tangible air,

      And through it sailing tranquilly a thought.

      As smoothly glides a ship nearing its port,

      Ignorant of embargo and blockade,

      Confident of entrance and the visa’s seal,

      It came to the silent city of the brain

      Towards its accustomed and expectant quay,

      But met a barring will, a blow of Force

      And sank vanishing in the immensity.

      After a long vacant pause another appeared

      And others one by one suddenly emerged,

      Mind’s unexpected visitors from the Unseen

      Like far-off sails upon a lonely sea.

      But soon that commerce failed, none reached mind’s coast.

      Then all grew still, nothing moved any more:

      Immobile, self-rapt, timeless, solitary

      A silent spirit pervaded silent Space.

      In that absolute stillness bare and formidable

      There was glimpsed an all-negating Void Supreme

      That claimed its mystic Nihil’s sovereign right

      To cancel Nature and deny the soul.

      Even the nude sense of self grew pale and thin:

      Impersonal, signless, featureless, void of forms

      A blank pure consciousness had replaced the mind.

      Her spirit seemed the substance of a name,

      The world a pictured symbol drawn on self,

      A dream of images, a dream of sounds

      Built up the semblance of a universe

      Or lent to spirit the appearance of a world.

      This was self-seeing; in that intolerant hush

      No notion and no concept could take shape,

      There was no sense to frame the figure of things,

      A sheer self-sight was there, no thought arose.

      Emotion slept deep down in the still heart

      Or lay buried in a cemetery

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