Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ inner ear that listens to solitude,

      Leaning self-rapt unboundedly could hear

      The rhythm of the intenser wordless Thought

      That gathers in the silence behind life,

      And the low sweet inarticulate voice of earth

      In the great passion of her sun-kissed trance

      Ascended with its yearning undertone.

      Afar from the brute noise of clamorous needs

      The quieted all-seeking mind could feel,

      At rest from its blind outwardness of will,

      The unwearied clasp of her mute patient love

      And know for a soul the mother of our forms.

      This spirit stumbling in the fields of sense,

      This creature bruised in the mortar of the days

      Could find in her broad spaces of release.

      Not yet was a world all occupied by care.

      The bosom of our mother kept for us still

      Her austere regions and her musing depths,

      Her impersonal reaches lonely and inspired

      And the mightinesses of her rapture haunts.

      Muse-lipped she nursed her symbol mysteries

      And guarded for her pure-eyed sacraments

      The valley clefts between her breasts of joy,

      Her mountain altars for the fires of dawn

      And nuptial beaches where the ocean couched

      And the huge chanting of her prophet woods.

      Fields had she of her solitary mirth,

      Plains hushed and happy in the embrace of light,

      Alone with the cry of birds and hue of flowers,

      And wildernesses of wonder lit by her moons

      And grey seer-evenings kindling with the stars

      And dim movement in the night’s infinitude.

      August, exulting in her Maker’s eye,

      She felt her nearness to him in earth’s breast,

      Conversed still with a Light behind the veil,

      Still communed with Eternity beyond.

      A few and fit inhabitants she called

      To share the glad communion of her peace;

      The breadth, the summit were their natural home.

      The strong king-sages from their labour done,

      Freed from the warrior tension of their task,

      Came to her serene sessions in these wilds;

      The strife was over, the respite lay in front.

      Happy they lived with birds and beasts and flowers

      And sunlight and the rustle of the leaves,

      And heard the wild winds wandering in the night,

      Mused with the stars in their mute constant ranks,

      And lodged in the mornings as in azure tents,

      And with the glory of the noons were one.

      Some deeper plunged; from life’s external clasp

      Beckoned into a fiery privacy

      In the soul’s unprofaned star-white recess

      They sojourned with an everliving Bliss;

      A Voice profound in the ecstasy and the hush

      They heard, beheld an all-revealing Light.

      All time-made difference they overcame;

      The world was fibred with their own heart-strings;

      Close drawn to the heart that beats in every breast,

      They reached the one self in all through boundless love.

      Attuned to Silence and to the world-rhyme,

      They loosened the knot of the imprisoning mind;

      Achieved was the wide untroubled witness gaze,

      Unsealed was Nature’s great spiritual eye;

      To the height of heights rose now their daily climb:

      Truth leaned to them from her supernal realm;

      Above them blazed eternity’s mystic suns.

      Nameless the austere ascetics without home

      Abandoning speech and motion and desire

      Aloof from creatures sat absorbed, alone,

      Immaculate in tranquil heights of self

      On concentration’s luminous voiceless peaks,

      World-naked hermits with their matted hair

      Immobile as the passionless great hills

      Around them grouped like thoughts of some vast mood

      Awaiting the Infinite’s behest to end.

      The seers attuned to the universal Will,

      Content in Him who smiles behind earth’s forms,

      Abode ungrieved by the insistent days.

      About them like green trees girdling a hill

      Young grave disciples fashioned by their touch,

      Trained to the simple act and conscious word,

      Greatened within and grew to meet their heights.

      Far-wandering seekers on the Eternal’s path

      Brought to these quiet founts their spirit’s thirst

      And spent the treasure of a silent hour

      Bathed in the purity of the mild gaze

      That, uninsistent, ruled them СКАЧАТЬ