Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo
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Название: Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol

Автор: Sri Aurobindo

Издательство: Автор

Жанр: Эзотерика

Серия:

isbn: 9783937701608

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ man was a passer-by towards human scenes

      Or sole in Nature’s vastness strove to live

      And called for help to ensouled invisible Powers,

      Overwhelmed by the immensity of his world

      And unaware of his own infinity.

      The earth multiplied to her a changing brow

      And called her with a far and nameless voice.

      The mountains in their anchorite solitude,

      The forests with their multitudinous chant

      Disclosed to her the masked divinity’s doors.

      On dreaming plains, an indolent expanse,

      The death-bed of a pale enchanted eve

      Under the glamour of a sunken sky,

      Impassive she lay as at an age’s end,

      Or crossed an eager pack of huddled hills

      Lifting their heads to hunt a lairlike sky,

      Or travelled in a strange and empty land

      Where desolate summits camped in a weird heaven,

      Mute sentinels beneath a drifting moon,

      Or wandered in some lone tremendous wood

      Ringing for ever with the crickets’ cry

      Or followed a long glistening serpent road

      Through fields and pastures lapped in moveless light

      Or reached the wild beauty of a desert space

      Where never plough was driven nor herd had grazed

      And slumbered upon stripped and thirsty sands

      Amid the savage wild-beast night’s appeal.

      Still unaccomplished was the fateful quest;

      Still she found not the one predestined face

      For which she sought amid the sons of men.

      A grandiose silence wrapped the regal day:

      The months had fed the passion of the sun

      And now his burning breath assailed the soil.

      The tiger heats prowled through the fainting earth;

      All was licked up as by a lolling tongue.

      The spring winds failed; the sky was set like bronze.

      End of Canto Four

      End of Book Four

      BOOK FIVE

The Book of Love

      Canto One

      The Destined Meeting-Place

      But now the destined spot and hour were close;

      Unknowing she had neared her nameless goal.

      For though a dress of blind and devious chance

      Is laid upon the work of all-wise Fate,

      Our acts interpret an omniscient Force

      That dwells in the compelling stuff of things,

      And nothing happens in the cosmic play

      But at its time and in its foreseen place.

      To a space she came of soft and delicate air

      That seemed a sanctuary of youth and joy,

      A highland world of free and green delight

      Where spring and summer lay together and strove

      In indolent and amicable debate,

      Inarmed, disputing with laughter who should rule.

      There expectation beat wide sudden wings

      As if a soul had looked out from earth’s face,

      And all that was in her felt a coming change

      And forgetting obvious joys and common dreams,

      Obedient to Time’s call, to the spirit’s fate,

      Was lifted to a beauty calm and pure

      That lived under the eyes of Eternity.

      A crowd of mountainous heads assailed the sky

      Pushing towards rival shoulders nearer heaven,

      The armoured leaders of an iron line;

      Earth prostrate lay beneath their feet of stone.

      Below them crouched a dream of emerald woods

      And gleaming borders solitary as sleep:

      Pale waters ran like glimmering threads of pearl.

      A sigh was straying among happy leaves;

      Cool-perfumed with slow pleasure-burdened feet

      Faint stumbling breezes faltered among flowers.

      The white crane stood, a vivid motionless streak,

      Peacock and parrot jewelled soil and tree,

      The dove’s soft moan enriched the enamoured air

      And fire-winged wild-drakes swam in silvery pools.

      Earth couched alone with her great lover Heaven,

      Uncovered to her consort’s azure eye.

      In a luxurious ecstasy of joy

      She squandered the love-music of her notes,

      Wasting the passionate pattern of her blooms

      And festival riot of her scents and hues.

      A cry and leap and hurry was around,

      The stealthy footfalls of her chasing things,

      The shaggy emerald of her centaur mane,

      The gold and sapphire of her warmth and blaze.

      Magician of her rapt felicities,

      Blithe, СКАЧАТЬ