Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

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      Canto Six

      The Kingdoms and Godheads of the Greater Life

      As one who between dim receding walls

      Towards the far gleam of a tunnel’s mouth,

      Hoping for light, walks now with freer pace

      And feels approach a breath of wider air,

      So he escaped from that grey anarchy.

      Into an ineffectual world he came,

      A purposeless region of arrested birth

      Where being from non-being fled and dared

      To live but had no strength long to abide.

      Above there gleamed a pondering brow of sky

      Tormented, crossed by wings of doubtful haze

      Adventuring with a voice of roaming winds

      And crying for a direction in the void

      Like blind souls looking for the selves they lost

      And wandering through unfamiliar worlds;

      Wings of vague questioning met the query of Space.

      After denial dawned a dubious hope,

      A hope of self and form and leave to live

      And the birth of that which never yet could be,

      And joy of the mind’s hazard, the heart’s choice,

      Grace of the unknown and hands of sudden surprise

      And a touch of sure delight in unsure things:

      To a strange uncertain tract his journey came

      Where consciousness played with unconscious self

      And birth was an attempt or episode.

      A charm drew near that could not keep its spell,

      An eager Power that could not find its way,

      A Chance that chose a strange arithmetic

      But could not bind with it the forms it made,

      A multitude that could not guard its sum

      Which less than zero grew and more than one.

      Arriving at a large and shadowy sense

      That cared not to define its fleeting drift,

      Life laboured in a strange and mythic air

      Denuded of her sweet magnificent suns.

      In worlds imagined, never yet made true,

      A lingering glimmer on creation’s verge,

      One strayed and dreamed and never stopped to achieve:

      To achieve would have destroyed that magic Space.

      The marvels of a twilight wonderland

      Full of a beauty strangely, vainly made,

      A surge of fanciful realities,

      Dim tokens of a Splendour sealed above,

      Awoke the passion of the eyes’ desire,

      Compelled belief on the enamoured thought

      And drew the heart but led it to no goal.

      A magic flowed as if of moving scenes

      That kept awhile their fugitive delicacy

      Of sparing lines limned by an abstract art

      In a rare scanted light with faint dream-brush

      On a silver background of incertitude.

      An infant glow of heavens near to morn,

      A fire intense conceived but never lit,

      Caressed the air with ardent hints of day.

      The perfect longing for imperfection’s charm,

      The illumined caught by the snare of Ignorance,

      Ethereal creatures drawn by body’s lure

      To that region of promise, beating invisible wings,

      Came hungry for the joy of finite life

      But too divine to tread created soil

      And share the fate of perishable things.

      The Children of the unembodied Gleam

      Arisen from a formless thought in the soul

      And chased by an imperishable desire,

      Traversed the field of the pursuing gaze.

      A Will that unpersisting failed, worked there:

      Life was a search but finding never came.

      There nothing satisfied, but all allured,

      Things seemed to be that never wholly are,

      Images were seen that looked like living acts

      And symbols hid the sense they claimed to show,

      Pale dreams grew real to the dreamer’s eyes.

      The souls came there that vainly strive for birth,

      And spirits entrapped might wander through all time,

      Yet never find the truth by which they live.

      All ran like hopes that hunt a lurking chance;

      Nothing was solid, nothing felt complete:

      All was unsafe, miraculous and half-true.

      It СКАЧАТЬ