Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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СКАЧАТЬ and a joy in good,

      A joy in virtue and a joy in sin:

      Indifferent to the threat of Karmic law,

      Joy dares to grow upon forbidden soil,

      Its sap runs through the plant and flowers of Pain:

      It thrills with the drama of fate and tragic doom,

      It tears its food from sorrow and ecstasy,

      On danger and difficulty whets its strength;

      It wallows with the reptile and the worm

      And lifts its head, an equal of the stars;

      It shares the faeries’ dance, dines with the gnome:

      It basks in the light and heat of many suns,

      The sun of Beauty and the sun of Power

      Flatter and foster it with golden beams;

      It grows towards the Titan and the God.

      On earth it lingers drinking its deep fill,

      Through the symbol of her pleasure and her pain,

      Of the grapes of Heaven and the flowers of the Abyss,

      Of the flame-stabs and the torment-craft of Hell

      And dim fragments of the glory of Paradise.

      In the small paltry pleasures of man’s life,

      In his petty passions and joys it finds a taste,

      A taste in tears and torture of broken hearts,

      In the crown of gold and in the crown of thorns,

      In life’s nectar of sweetness and its bitter wine.

      All being it explores for unknown bliss,

      Sounds all experience for things new and strange.

      Life brings into the earthly creature’s days

      A tongue of glory from a brighter sphere:

      It deepens in his musings and his Art,

      It leaps at the splendour of some perfect word,

      It exults in his high resolves and noble deeds,

      Wanders in his errors, dares the abyss’s brink,

      It climbs in his climbings, wallows in his fall.

      Angel and demon brides his chamber share,

      Possessors or competitors for life’s heart.

      To the enjoyer of the cosmic scene

      His greatness and his littleness equal are,

      His magnanimity and meanness hues

      Cast on some neutral background of the gods:

      The Artist’s skill he admires who planned it all.

      But not for ever endures this danger game:

      Beyond the earth, but meant for delivered earth,

      Wisdom and joy prepare their perfect crown;

      Truth superhuman calls to thinking man.

      At last the soul turns to eternal things,

      In every shrine it cries for the clasp of God.

      Then is there played the crowning Mystery,

      Then is achieved the longed-for miracle.

      Immortal Bliss her wide celestial eyes

      Opens on the stars, she stirs her mighty limbs;

      Time thrills to the sapphics of her amour-song

      And Space fills with a white beatitude.

      Then leaving to its grief the human heart,

      Abandoning speech and the name-determined realms,

      Through a gleaming far-seen sky of wordless thought,

      Through naked thought-free heavens of absolute sight,

      She climbs to the summits where the unborn Idea

      Remembering the future that must be

      Looks down upon the works of labouring Force,

      Immutable above the world it made.

      In the vast golden laughter of Truth’s sun

      Like a great heaven-bird on a motionless sea

      Is poised her winged ardour of creative joy

      On the still deep of the Eternal’s peace.

      This was the aim, this the supernal Law,

      Nature’s allotted task when beauty-drenched

      In dim mist-waters of inconscient sleep,

      Out of the Void this grand creation rose, –

      For this the Spirit came into the Abyss

      And charged with its power Matter’s unknowing force,

      In Night’s bare session to cathedral Light,

      In Death’s realm repatriate immortality.

      A mystic slow transfiguration works.

      All our earth starts from mud and ends in sky,

      And Love that was once an animal’s desire,

      Then a sweet madness in the rapturous heart,

      An ardent comradeship in the happy mind,

      Becomes a wide spiritual yearning’s space.

      A lonely soul passions for the Alone,

      The heart that loved man thrills to the love of God,

      A body is his chamber and his shrine.

      Then is our being rescued from separateness;

      All is itself, all is new-felt in God:

      A Lover leaning from his cloister’s door

      Gathers the whole world into his single breast.

      Then shall the business fail of Night and Death:

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