Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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      Canto Three

      The Entry into the Inner Countries

      At first out of the busy hum of mind

      As if from a loud thronged market into a cave

      By an inward moment’s magic she had come.

      A stark hushed emptiness became her self:

      Her mind unvisited by the voice of thought

      Stared at a void deep’s dumb infinity.

      Her heights receded, her depths behind her closed;

      All fled away from her and left her blank.

      But when she came back to her self of thought,

      Once more she was a human thing on earth,

      A lump of Matter, a house of closed sight,

      A mind compelled to think out ignorance,

      A life-force pressed into a camp of works

      And the material world her limiting field.

      Amazed like one unknowing she sought her way

      Out of the tangle of man’s ignorant past

      That took the surface person for the soul.

      Then a Voice spoke that dwelt on secret heights:

      “For man thou seekst, not for thyself alone.

      Only if God assumes the human mind

      And puts on mortal ignorance for his cloak

      And makes himself the Dwarf with triple stride,

      Can he help man to grow into the God.

      As man disguised the cosmic Greatness works

      And finds the mystic inaccessible gate

      And opens the Immortal’s golden door.

      Man, human, follows in God’s human steps.

      Accepting his darkness thou must bring to him light,

      Accepting his sorrow thou must bring to him bliss.

      In Matter’s body find thy heaven-born soul.”

      Then Savitri surged out of her body’s wall

      And stood a little span outside herself

      And looked into her subtle being’s depths

      And in its heart as in a lotus-bud

      Divined her secret and mysterious soul.

      At the dim portal of the inner life

      That bars out from our depths the body’s mind

      And all that lives but by the body’s breath,

      She knocked and pressed against the ebony gate.

      The living portal groaned with sullen hinge:

      Heavily reluctant it complained inert

      Against the tyranny of the spirit’s touch.

      A formidable voice cried from within:

      “Back, creature of earth, lest tortured and torn thou die.”

      A dreadful murmur rose like a dim sea;

      The Serpent of the threshold hissing rose,

      A fatal guardian hood with monstrous coils,

      The hounds of darkness growled with jaws agape,

      And trolls and gnomes and goblins scowled and stared

      And wild beast roarings thrilled the blood with fear

      And menace muttered in a dangerous tongue.

      Unshaken her will pressed on the rigid bars:

      The gate swung wide with a protesting jar,

      The opponent Powers withdrew their dreadful guard;

      Her being entered into the inner worlds.

      In a narrow passage, the subconscient’s gate,

      She breathed with difficulty and pain and strove

      To find the inner self concealed in sense.

      Into a dense of subtle Matter packed,

      A cavity filled with a blind mass of power,

      An opposition of misleading gleams,

      A heavy barrier of unseeing sight,

      She forced her way through body to the soul.

      Across a perilous border line she passed

      Where Life dips into the subconscient dusk

      Or struggles from Matter into chaos of mind,

      Aswarm with elemental entities

      And fluttering shapes of vague half-bodied thought

      And crude beginnings of incontinent force.

      At first a difficult narrowness was there,

      A press of uncertain powers and drifting wills;

      For all was there but nothing in its place.

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