Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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without reason life is a tangle of dreams,

      But reason is poised above a dim abyss

      And stands at last upon a plank of doubt.

      Eternal truth lives not with mortal men.

      Or if she dwells within thy mortal heart,

      Show me the body of the living Truth

      Or draw for me the outline of her face

      That I too may obey and worship her.

      Then will I give thee back thy Satyavan.

      But here are only facts and steel-bound Law.

      This truth I know that Satyavan is dead

      And even thy sweetness cannot lure him back.

      No magic Truth can bring the dead to life,

      No power of earth cancel the thing once done,

      No joy of the heart can last surviving death,

      No bliss persuade the past to live again.

      But Life alone can solace the mute Void

      And fill with thought the emptiness of Time.

      Leave then thy dead, O Savitri, and live.”

      The Woman answered to the mighty Shade,

      And as she spoke, mortality disappeared;

      Her Goddess self grew visible in her eyes,

      Light came, a dream of heaven, into her face.

      “O Death, thou too art God and yet not He,

      But only his own black shadow on his path

      As leaving the Night he takes the upward Way

      And drags with him its clinging inconscient Force.

      Of God unconscious thou art the dark head,

      Of his Ignorance thou art the impenitent sign,

      Of its vast tenebrous womb the natural child,

      On his immortality the sinister bar.

      All contraries are aspects of God’s face.

      The Many are the innumerable One,

      The One carries the multitude in his breast;

      He is the Impersonal, inscrutable, sole,

      He is the one infinite Person seeing his world;

      The Silence bears the Eternal’s great dumb seal,

      His light inspires the eternal Word;

      He is the Immobile’s deep and deathless hush,

      Its white and signless blank negating calm,

      Yet stands the creator Self, the almighty Lord

      And watches his will done by the forms of Gods

      And the desire that goads half-conscious man

      And the reluctant and unseeing Night.

      These wide divine extremes, these inverse powers

      Are the right and left side of the body of God;

      Existence balanced twixt two mighty arms

      Confronts the mind with unsolved abysms of Thought.

      Darkness below, a fathomless Light above,

      In Light are joined, but sundered by severing Mind

      Stand face to face, opposite, inseparable,

      Two contraries needed for his great World-task,

      Two poles whose currents wake the immense World-Force.

      In the stupendous secrecy of his Self,

      Above the world brooding with equal wings,

      He is both in one, beginningless, without end:

      Transcending both, he enters the Absolute.

      His being is a mystery beyond mind,

      His ways bewilder mortal ignorance;

      The finite in its little sections parked,

      Amazed, credits not God’s audacity

      Who dares to be the unimagined All

      And see and act as might one Infinite.

      Against human reason this is his offence,

      Being known to be for ever unknowable,

      To be all and yet transcend the mystic whole,

      Absolute, to lodge in a relative world of Time,

      Eternal and all-knowing, to suffer birth,

      Omnipotent, to sport with Chance and Fate,

      Spirit, yet to be Matter and the Void,

      Illimitable, beyond form or name,

      To dwell within a body, one and supreme

      To be animal and human and divine:

      A still deep sea, he laughs in rolling waves;

      Universal, he is all, – transcendent, none.

      To man’s righteousness this is his cosmic crime,

      Almighty beyond good and evil to dwell

      Leaving the good to their fate in a wicked world

      And evil to reign in this enormous scene.

      All opposition seems and strife and chance,

      An aimless labour with but scanty sense,

      To eyes that see a part and miss the whole;

      The surface men scan, the depths refuse their search:

      A hybrid mystery challenges the view,

      Or a discouraging sordid miracle.

      Yet in the exact Inconscient’s stark conceit,

      In the casual error of the world’s ignorance

      A plan, a hidden Intelligence is glimpsed.

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