Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol - Sri Aurobindo

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on the agonised nerves of living things:

      Epics of horror and grim majesty,

      Wry statues spat and stiffened in life’s mud,

      A glut of hideous forms and hideous deeds

      Paralysed pity in the hardened breast.

      In booths of sin and night-repairs of vice

      Styled infamies of the body’s concupiscence

      And sordid imaginations etched in flesh,

      Turned lust into a decorative art:

      Abusing Nature’s gift her pervert skill

      Immortalised the sown grain of living death,

      In a mud goblet poured the bacchic wine,

      To a satyr gave the thyrsus of a god.

      Impure, sadistic, with grimacing mouths,

      Grey foul inventions gruesome and macabre

      Came televisioned from the gulfs of Night.

      Her craft ingenious in monstrosity,

      Impatient of all natural shape and poise,

      A gape of nude exaggerated lines,

      Gave caricature a stark reality,

      And art-parades of weird distorted forms,

      And gargoyle masques obscene and terrible

      Trampled to tormented postures the torn sense.

      An inexorable evil’s worshipper,

      She made vileness great and sublimated filth;

      A dragon power of reptile energies

      And strange epiphanies of grovelling Force

      And serpent grandeurs couching in the mire

      Drew adoration to a gleam of slime.

      All Nature pulled out of her frame and base

      Was twisted into an unnatural pose:

      Repulsion stimulated inert desire;

      Agony was made a red-spiced food for bliss,

      Hatred was trusted with the work of lust

      And torture took the form of an embrace;

      A ritual anguish consecrated death;

      Worship was offered to the Undivine.

      A new aesthesis of Inferno’s art

      That trained the mind to love what the soul hates,

      Imposed allegiance on the quivering nerves

      And forced the unwilling body to vibrate.

      Too sweet and too harmonious to excite

      In this regime that soiled the being’s core,

      Beauty was banned, the heart’s feeling dulled to sleep

      And cherished in their place sensation’s thrills;

      The world was probed for jets of sense-appeal.

      Here cold material intellect was the judge

      And needed sensual prick and jog and lash

      That its hard dryness and dead nerves might feel

      Some passion and power and acrid point of life.

      A new philosophy theorised evil’s rights,

      Gloried in the shimmering rot of decadence,

      Or gave to a python Force persuasive speech

      And armed with knowledge the primaeval brute.

      Over life and Matter only brooding bowed,

      Mind changed to the image of a rampant beast;

      It scrambled into the pit to dig for truth

      And lighted its search with the subconscient’s flares.

      Thence bubbling rose sullying the upper air,

      The filth and festering secrets of the Abyss:

      This it called positive fact and real life.

      This now composed the fetid atmosphere.

      A wild-beast passion crept from secret Night

      To watch its prey with fascinating eyes:

      Around him like a fire with sputtering tongues

      There lolled and laughed a bestial ecstasy;

      The air was packed with longings brute and fierce;

      Crowding and stinging in a monstrous swarm

      Pressed with a noxious hum into his mind

      Thoughts that could poison Nature’s heavenliest breath,

      Forcing reluctant lids assailed the sight

      Acts that revealed the mystery of Hell.

      All that was there was on this pattern made.

      A race possessed inhabited those parts.

      A force demoniac lurking in man’s depths

      That heaves suppressed by the heart’s human law,

      Awed by the calm and sovereign eyes of Thought,

      Can in a fire and earthquake of the soul

      Arise and, calling to its native night,

      Overthrow the reason, occupy the life

      And stamp its hoof on Nature’s shaking ground:

      This was for them their being’s flaming core.

      A mighty energy, a monster god,

      Hard to the strong, implacable to the weak,

      It stared at the harsh unpitying world it made

      With the stony eyelids of its fixed idea.

      Its heart was drunk with a dire hunger’s wine,

      In others’ suffering felt a thrilled

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