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  • Savitri: Book 6 Canto 2 Section 2 part 1

    Where Ignorance is, there suffering too must come;

    Thy grief is a cry of darkness to the Light;

    Pain was the first-born of the Inconscience

    Which was thy body’s dumb original base;

    Already slept there pain’s subconscient shape:

    A shadow in a shadowy tenebrous womb,

    Till life shall move, it waits to wake and be.

    In one caul with joy came forth the dreadful Power.

    In life’s breast it was born hiding its twin;

    But pain came first, then only joy could be.

    Pain ploughed the first hard ground of the world-drowse.

    By pain a spirit started from the clod,

    By pain Life stirred in the subliminal deep.

    Interned, submerged, hidden in Matter’s trance

    Awoke to itself the dreamer, sleeping Mind;

    It made a visible realm out of its dreams,

    It drew its shapes from the subconscient depths,

    Then turned to look upon the world it had made.

    By pain and joy, the bright and tenebrous twins,

    The inanimate world perceived its sentient soul,

    Else had the Inconscient never suffered change.

    Pain is the hammer of the Gods to break

    A dead resistance in the mortal’s heart,

    His slow inertia as of living stone.

    If the heart were not forced to want and weep,

    His soul would have lain down content, at ease,

    And never thought to exceed the human start

    And never learned to climb towards the Sun.

    This earth is full of labour, packed with pain;

    Throes of an endless birth coerce her still;

    The centuries end, the ages vainly pass

    And yet the Godhead in her is not born.

    The ancient Mother faces all with joy,

    Calls for the ardent pang, the grandiose thrill;

    For with pain and labour all creation comes.

    This earth is full of the anguish of the gods;

    Ever they travail driven by Time’s goad,

    And strive to work out the eternal Will

    And shape the life divine in mortal forms.

    His will must be worked out in human breasts

    Against the Evil that rises from the gulfs,

    Against the world’s Ignorance and its obstinate strength,

    Against the stumblings of man’s pervert will,

    Against the deep folly of his human mind,

    Against the blind reluctance of his heart.

  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 2 Section 3

    This was a seed cast into endless Time.

    A Word is spoken or a Light is shown,

    A moment sees, the ages toil to express.

    So flashing out of the Timeless leaped the worlds;

    An eternal instant is the cause of the years.

    All he had done was to prepare a field;

    His small beginnings asked for a mighty end:

    For all that he had been must now new-shape

    In him her joy to embody, to enshrine

    Her beauty and greatness in his house of life.

    But now his being was too wide for self;

    His heart’s demand had grown immeasurable:

    His single freedom could not satisfy,

    Her light, her bliss he asked for earth and men.

    But vain are human power and human love

    To break earth’s seal of ignorance and death;

    His nature’s might seemed now an infant’s grasp;

    Heaven is too high for outstretched hands to seize.

    This Light comes not by struggle or by thought;

    In the mind’s silence the Transcendent acts

    And the hushed heart hears the unuttered Word.

    A vast surrender was his only strength.

    A Power that lives upon the heights must act,

    Bring into life’s closed room the Immortal’s air

    And fill the finite with the Infinite.

    All that denies must be torn out and slain

    And crushed the many longings for whose sake

    We lose the One for whom our lives were made.

    Now other claims had hushed in him their cry:

    Only he longed to draw her presence and power

    Into his heart and mind and breathing frame;

    Only he yearned to call for ever down

    Her healing touch of love and truth and joy

    Into the darkness of the suffering world.

    His soul was freed and given to her alone.

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  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 2 Section 2

    At the head she stands of birth and toil and fate,

    In their slow round the cycles turn to her call;

    Alone her hands can change Time’s dragon base.

    Hers is the mystery the Night conceals;

    The spirit’s alchemist energy is hers;

    She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire.

    The luminous heart of the Unknown is she,

    A power of silence in the depths of God;

    She is the Force, the inevitable Word,

    The magnet of our difficult ascent,

    The Sun from which we kindle all our suns,

    The Light that leans from the unrealised Vasts,

    The joy that beckons from the impossible,

    The Might of all that never yet came down.

    All Nature dumbly calls to her alone

    To heal with her feet the aching throb of life

    And break the seals on the dim soul of man

    And kindle her fire in the closed heart of things.

    All here shall be one day her sweetness’ home,

    All contraries prepare her harmony;

    Towards her our knowledge climbs, our passion gropes;

    In her miraculous rapture we shall dwell,

    Her clasp shall turn to ecstasy our pain.

    Our self shall be one self with all through her.

    In her confirmed because transformed in her,

    Our life shall find in its fulfilled response

    Above, the boundless hushed beatitudes,

    Below, the wonder of the embrace divine.

    This known as in a thunder-flash of God,

    The rapture of things eternal filled his limbs;

    Amazement fell upon his ravished sense;

    His spirit was caught in her intolerant flame.

    Once seen, his heart acknowledged only her.

    Only a hunger of infinite bliss was left.

    All aims in her were lost, then found in her;

    His base was gathered to one pointing spire.

  • Savitri: Book 10 Canto 4 Section 2 end

    Already the torch becomes the undying ray,

    Already the life is the Immortal’s force,

    The house grows of the householder part and one.

    How sayst thou Truth can never light the human mind

    And Bliss can never invade the mortal’s heart

    Or God descend into the world he made?

    If in the meaningless Void creation rose,

    If from a bodiless Force Matter was born,

    If Life could climb in the unconscious tree,

    Its green delight break into emerald leaves

    And its laughter of beauty blossom in the flower,

    If sense could wake in tissue, nerve and cell

    And Thought seize the grey matter of the brain,

    And soul peep from its secrecy through the flesh,

    How shall the nameless Light not leap on men,

    And unknown powers emerge from Nature’s sleep?

    Even now hints of a luminous Truth like stars

    Arise in the mind-mooned splendour of Ignorance;

    Even now the deathless Lover’s touch we feel:

    If the chamber’s door is even a little ajar,

    What then can hinder God from stealing in

    Or who forbid his kiss on the sleeping soul?

    Already God is near, the Truth is close:

    Because the dark atheist body knows him not,

    Must the sage deny the Light, the seer his soul?

    I am not bound by thought or sense or shape;

    I live in the glory of the Infinite,

    I am near to the Nameless and Unknowable,

    The Ineffable is now my household mate.

    But standing on Eternity’s luminous brink

    I have discovered that the world was He;

    I have met Spirit with spirit, Self with self,

    But I have loved too the body of my God.

    I have pursued him in his earthly form.

    A lonely freedom cannot satisfy

    A heart that has grown one with every heart:

    I am a deputy of the aspiring world,

    My spirit’s liberty I ask for all.”

  • Savitri: BOOK 11 Canto 1 Section 8

    The Book of Everlasting Day

    The Spirit shall be the master of his world

    Lurking no more in form’s obscurity

    And Nature shall reverse her action’s rule,

    The outward world disclose the Truth it veils;

    All things shall manifest the covert God,

    All shall reveal the Spirit’s light and might

    And move to its destiny of felicity.

    Even should a hostile force cling to its reign

    And claim its right’s perpetual sovereignty

    And man refuse his high spiritual fate,

    Yet shall the secret Truth in things prevail.

    For in the march of all-fulfilling Time

    The hour must come of the Transcendent’s will:

    All turns and winds towards his predestined ends

    In Nature’s fixed inevitable course

    Decreed since the beginning of the worlds

    In the deep essence of created things:

    Even there shall come as a high crown of all

    The end of Death, the death of Ignorance.

    But first high Truth must set her feet on earth

    And man aspire to the Eternal’s light

    And all his members feel the Spirit’s touch

    And all his life obey an inner Force.

    This too shall be; for a new life shall come,

    A body of the Superconscient’s truth,

    A native field of Supernature’s mights:

    It shall make earth’s nescient ground Truth’s colony,

    Make even the Ignorance a transparent robe

    Through which shall shine the brilliant limbs of Truth

    And Truth shall be a sun on Nature’s head

    And Truth shall be the guide of Nature’s steps

    And Truth shall gaze out of her nether deeps.

    When superman is born as Nature’s king

    His presence shall transfigure Matter’s world:

    The Soul’s Choice and the Supreme Consummation 709

    He shall light up Truth’s fire in Nature’s night,

    He shall lay upon the earth Truth’s greater law;

    Man too shall turn towards the Spirit’s call.

    Awake to his hidden possibility,

    Awake to all that slept within his heart

    And all that Nature meant when earth was formed

    And the Spirit made this ignorant world his home,

    He shall aspire to Truth and God and Bliss.

  • Mahalakshmi

    Book -3, Canto- 2, The book of the Divine Mother, Pg-314

    A burning Love from white spiritual founts

    Annulled the sorrow of the ignorant depths;

    Suffering was lost in her immortal smile.

    A Life from beyond grew conqueror here of death;

    To err no more was natural to mind;

    Wrong could not come where all was light and love.

    The Formless and the Formed were joined in her:

    Immensity was exceeded by a look,

    A Face revealed the crowded Infinite.

    Incarnating inexpressibly in her limbs

    The boundless joy the blind world-forces seek,

    Her body of beauty mooned the seas of bliss.

  • Savitri: BOOK 3 Canto 4 Section 1

    The Book of the Divine Mother 340

    The high gods look on man and watch and choose

    Today’s impossibles for the future’s base.

    His transience trembles with the Eternal’s touch,

    His barriers cede beneath the Infinite’s tread;

    The Immortals have their entries in his life:

    The Ambassadors of the Unseen draw near.

    A splendour sullied by the mortal air,

    Love passes through his heart, a wandering guest.

    Beauty surrounds him for a magic hour,

    He has visits of a large revealing joy,

    Brief widenesses release him from himself,

    Enticing towards a glory ever in front

    Hopes of a deathless sweetness lure and leave.

    His mind is crossed by strange discovering fires,

    Rare intimations lift his stumbling speech

    To a moment’s kinship with the eternal Word;

    A masque of Wisdom circles through his brain

    Perturbing him with glimpses half divine.

    He lays his hands sometimes on the Unknown;

    He communes sometimes with Eternity.

    A strange and grandiose symbol was his birth

    And immortality and spirit-room

    And pure perfection and a shadowless bliss

    Are this afflicted creature’s mighty fate.

    In him the Earth-Mother sees draw near the change

    Foreshadowed in her dumb and fiery depths,

    A godhead drawn from her transmuted limbs,

    An alchemy of Heaven on Nature’s base.

    Adept of the self-born unfailing line,

    Leave not the light to die the ages bore,

    Help still humanity’s blind and suffering life:

    Obey thy spirit’s wide omnipotent urge.

    A witness to God’s parley with the Night,

    It leaned compassionate from immortal calm

    And housed desire, the troubled seed of things.

    Assent to thy high self, create, endure.

    Cease not from knowledge, let thy toil be vast.

    No more can earthly limits pen thy force;

    Equal thy work with long unending Time’s.

    Traveller upon the bare eternal heights,

    Tread still the difficult and dateless path

    Joining the cycles with its austere curve

    Measured for man by the initiate Gods.

    My light shall be in thee, my strength thy force.

    Let not the impatient Titan drive thy heart,

    Ask not the imperfect fruit, the partial prize.

    Only one boon, to greaten thy spirit, demand;

    Only one joy, to raise thy kind, desire.

    Above blind fate and the antagonist powers

    Moveless there stands a high unchanging Will;

    To its omnipotence leave thy work’s result.

    All things shall change in God’s transfiguring hour.”

  • Savitri - Book 10 Canto 4 Section 2

    The world is a spiritual paradox

    Invented by a need in the Unseen,

    A poor translation to the creature’s sense

    Of That which for ever exceeds idea and speech,

    A symbol of what can never be symbolised,

    A language mispronounced, misspelt, yet true.

    Its powers have come from the eternal heights

    And plunged into the inconscient dim Abyss

    And risen from it to do their marvellous work.

    The soul is a figure of the Unmanifest,

    The mind labours to think the Unthinkable,

    The life to call the Immortal into birth,

    The body to enshrine the Illimitable.

    The world is not cut off from Truth and God.

    In vain thou hast dug the dark unbridgeable gulf,

    In vain thou hast built the blind and doorless wall:

    Man’s soul crosses through thee to Paradise,

    Heaven’s sun forces its way through death and night;

    Its light is seen upon our being’s verge.

    My mind is a torch lit from the eternal sun,

    My life a breath drawn by the immortal Guest,

    My mortal body is the Eternal’s house.

  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 4 Section 1

    Illumining breath to think and plasm to feel,

    He labours with his slow and sceptic brain

    Helped by the reason’s vacillating fires,

    To make his thought and will a magic door

    For knowledge to enter the darkness of the world

    And love to rule a realm of strife and hate.

    A mind impotent to reconcile heaven and earth

    And tied to Matter with a thousand bonds,

    He lifts himself to be a conscious god.

    Even when a glory of wisdom crowns his brow,

    When mind and spirit shed a grandiose ray

    To exalt this product of the sperm and gene,

    This alchemist’s miracle from plasm and gas,

    And he who shared the animal’s run and crawl

    Lifts his thought-stature to the Immortal’s heights,

    His life still keeps the human middle way;

    His body he resigns to death and pain,

    Abandoning Matter, his too heavy charge.

    A thaumaturge sceptic of miracles,

    A spirit left sterile of its occult power

    By an unbelieving brain and credulous heart,

    He leaves the world to end where it began:

    His work unfinished he claims a heavenly prize.

    Thus has he missed creation’s absolute.

    Half-way he stops his star of destiny:

    A vast and vain long-tried experiment,

    An ill-served high conception doubtfully done,

    The world’s life falters on not seeing its goal,—

    A zigzag towards unknown dangerous ground

    Ever repeating its habitual walk,

    Ever retreating after marches long

    And hardiest victories without sure result,

    Drawn endlessly an inconclusive game.

  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 4 Section 1

    His day is a moment in perpetual Time;

    He is the prey of the minutes and the hours.

    Assailed on earth and unassured of heaven,

    Descended here unhappy and sublime,

    A link between the demigod and the beast,

    He knows not his own greatness nor his aim;

    He has forgotten why he has come and whence.

    His spirit and his members are at war;

    His heights break off too low to reach the skies,

    His mass is buried in the animal mire.

    A strange antinomy is his nature’s rule.

    A riddle of opposites is made his field:

    Freedom he asks but needs to live in bonds,

    He has need of darkness to perceive some light

    And need of grief to feel a little bliss;

    He has need of death to find a greater life.

    All sides he sees and turns to every call;

    He has no certain light by which to walk;

    His life is a blind-man’s-buff, a hide-and-seek;

    He seeks himself and from himself he runs;

    Meeting himself, he thinks it other than he.

    Always he builds, but finds no constant ground,

    Always he journeys, but nowhere arrives;

    He would guide the world, himself he cannot guide;

    He would save his soul, his life he cannot save.

    The light his soul had brought his mind has lost;

    All he has learned is soon again in doubt;

    A sun to him seems the shadow of his thoughts,

    Then all is shadow again and nothing true:

    Unknowing what he does or whither he tends

    He fabricates signs of the Real in Ignorance.

    He has hitched his mortal error to Truth’s star.

    Wisdom attracts him with her luminous masks,

    But never has he seen the face behind:

    A giant Ignorance surrounds his lore.

    Assigned to meet the cosmic mystery

    In the dumb figure of a material world,

    His passport of entry false and his personage,

    He is compelled to be what he is not;

    He obeys the Inconscience he had come to rule

    And sinks in Matter to fulfil his soul.

    Awakened from her lower driven forms

    The Earth-Mother gave her forces to his hands

    And painfully he guards the heavy trust;

    His mind is a lost torch-bearer on her roads.

  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 4 Section 1

    THEN suddenly there rose a sacred stir.

    Amid the lifeless silence of the Void

    In a solitude and an immensity

    A sound came quivering like a loved footfall

    Heard in the listening spaces of the soul;

    A touch perturbed his fibres with delight.

    An Influence had approached the mortal range,

    A boundless Heart was near his longing heart,

    A mystic Form enveloped his earthly shape.

    All at her contact broke from silence’ seal;

    Spirit and body thrilled identified,

    Linked in the grasp of an unspoken joy;

    Mind, members, life were merged in ecstasy.

    Intoxicated as with nectarous rain

    His nature’s passioning stretches flowed to her,

    Flashing with lightnings, mad with luminous wine.

    All was a limitless sea that heaved to the moon.

    A divinising stream possessed his veins,

    His body’s cells awoke to spirit sense,

    Each nerve became a burning thread of joy:

    Tissue and flesh partook beatitude.

    Alight, the dun unplumbed subconscient caves

    Thrilled with the prescience of her longed-for tread

    And filled with flickering crests and praying tongues.

    Even lost in slumber, mute, inanimate

    His very body answered to her power.

    The One he worshipped was within him now:

    Flame-pure, ethereal-tressed, a mighty Face

    Appeared and lips moved by immortal words;

    Lids, Wisdom’s leaves, drooped over rapture’s orbs.

    A marble monument of ponderings, shone

    A forehead, sight’s crypt, and large like ocean’s gaze

    Towards Heaven, two tranquil eyes of boundless thought

    Looked into man’s and saw the god to come.

  • Savitri : Book 3 Canto 2

    A Heart was felt in the spaces wide and bare,

    A burning Love from white spiritual founts

    Annulled the sorrow of the ignorant depths;

    Suffering was lost in her immortal smile.

    A Life from beyond grew conqueror here of death;

    To err no more was natural to mind;

    Wrong could not come where all was light and love.

    The Formless and the Formed were joined in her:

    Immensity was exceeded by a look,

    A Face revealed the crowded Infinite.

    Incarnating inexpressibly in her limbs

    The boundless joy the blind world-forces seek,

    Her body of beauty mooned the seas of bliss.

    At the head she stands of birth and toil and fate,

    In their slow round the cycles turn to her call;

    Alone her hands can change Time’s dragon base.

    Hers is the mystery the Night conceals;

    The spirit’s alchemist energy is hers;

    She is the golden bridge, the wonderful fire.

    The luminous heart of the Unknown is she,

    A power of silence in the depths of God;

    She is the Force, the inevitable Word,

    The magnet of our difficult ascent,

    The Sun from which we kindle all our suns,

    The Light that leans from the unrealised Vasts,

    The joy that beckons from the impossible,

    The Might of all that never yet came down.

    All Nature dumbly calls to her alone

    To heal with her feet the aching throb of life

    And break the seals on the dim soul of man

    And kindle her fire in the closed heart of things.

    All here shall be one day her sweetness’ home,

    All contraries prepare her harmony;

    Towards her our knowledge climbs, our passion gropes;

    In her miraculous rapture we shall dwell,

    Her clasp shall turn to ecstasy our pain.

    Our self shall be one self with all through her.

    In her confirmed because transformed in her,

    Our life shall find in its fulfilled response

    Above, the boundless hushed beatitudes,

    Below, the wonder of the embrace divine.

  • Savitri: Book 3 Canto 1 Section 1

    ALL IS too little that the world can give:

    Its power and knowledge are the gifts of Time

    And cannot fill the spirit’s sacred thirst.

    Although of One these forms of greatness are

    And by its breath of grace our lives abide,

    Although more near to us than nearness’ self,

    It is some utter truth of what we are;

    Hidden by its own works, it seemed far-off,

    Impenetrable, occult, voiceless, obscure.

    The Presence was lost by which all things have charm,

    The Glory lacked of which they are dim signs.

    The world lived on made empty of its Cause,

    Like love when the beloved’s face is gone.

    The labour to know seemed a vain strife of Mind;

    All knowledge ended in the Unknowable:

    The effort to rule seemed a vain pride of Will;

    A trivial achievement scorned by Time,

    All power retired into the Omnipotent.

    A cave of darkness guards the eternal Light.

    A silence settled on his striving heart;

    Absolved from the voices of the world’s desire,

    He turned to the Ineffable’s timeless call.

    A Being intimate and unnameable,

    A wide compelling ecstasy and peace

    Felt in himself and all and yet ungrasped,

    Approached and faded from his soul’s pursuit

    As if for ever luring him beyond.

    Near, it retreated; far, it called him still.

    Nothing could satisfy but its delight:

    Its absence left the greatest actions dull,

    Its presence made the smallest seem divine.

  • Savitri: Book 2 Canto 10 Section 1

    This was the first means of our slow ascent

    From the half-conscience of the animal soul

    Living in a crowded press of shape-events

    In a realm it cannot understand nor change;

    Only it sees and acts in a given scene

    And feels and joys and sorrows for a while.

    The ideas that drive the obscure embodied spirit

    Along the roads of suffering and desire

    In a world that struggles to discover Truth,

    Found here their power to be and Nature-force.

    Here are devised the forms of an ignorant life

    That sees the empiric fact as settled law,

    Labours for the hour and not for eternity

    And trades its gains to meet the moment’s call:

    The slow process of a material mind

    Which serves the body it should rule and use

    And needs to lean upon an erring sense,

    Was born in that luminous obscurity.

    Advancing tardily from a limping start,

    Crutching hypothesis on argument,

    Throning its theories as certitudes,

    It reasons from the half-known to the unknown,

    Ever constructing its frail house of thought,

    Ever undoing the web that it has spun.

    A twilight sage whose shadow seems to him self,

    Moving from minute to brief minute lives;

    A king dependent on his satellites

    Signs the decrees of ignorant ministers,

    A judge in half-possession of his proofs,

    A voice clamant of uncertainty’s postulates,

    An architect of knowledge, not its source.

    This powerful bondslave of his instruments

    Thinks his low station Nature’s highest top,

    Oblivious of his share in all things made

    And haughtily humble in his own conceit

    Believes himself a spawn of Matter’s mud

    And takes his own creations for his cause.

    To eternal light and knowledge meant to rise,

    Up from man’s bare beginning is our climb;

    Out of earth’s heavy smallness we must break,

    We must search our nature with spiritual fire:

    An insect crawl preludes our glorious flight;

    Our human state cradles the future god,

    Our mortal frailty an immortal force.

  • Savitri: Book 4 Canto 3 Section 1

    As when the mantra sinks in Yoga’s ear,

    Its message enters stirring the blind brain

    And keeps in the dim ignorant cells its sound;

    The hearer understands a form of words

    And, musing on the index thought it holds,

    He strives to read it with the labouring mind,

    But finds bright hints, not the embodied truth:

    Then, falling silent in himself to know

    He meets the deeper listening of his soul:

    The Word repeats itself in rhythmic strains:

    Thought, vision, feeling, sense, the body’s self

    Are seized unutterably and he endures

    An ecstasy and an immortal change;

    He feels a Wideness and becomes a Power,

    All knowledge rushes on him like a sea:

    Transmuted by the white spiritual ray

    He walks in naked heavens of joy and calm,

    Sees the God-face and hears transcendent speech:

  • Savitri: Book 7 Canto 6 Section 2

    This mind is a dynamic small machine

    Producing ceaselessly, till it wears out,

    With raw material drawn from the outside world,

    The patterns sketched out by an artist God.

    Often our thoughts are finished cosmic wares

    Admitted by a silent office gate

    And passed through the subconscient’s galleries,

    Then issued in Time’s mart as private make.

    For now they bear the living person’s stamp;

    A trick, a special hue claims them his own.

    All else is Nature’s craft and this too hers.

    Our tasks are given, we are but instruments;

    Nothing is all our own that we create:

    The Power that acts in us is not our force.

    The genius too receives from some high fount

    Concealed in a supernal secrecy

    The work that gives him an immortal name.

    The word, the form, the charm, the glory and grace

    Are missioned sparks from a stupendous Fire;

    A sample from the laboratory of God

    Of which he holds the patent upon earth,

    Comes to him wrapped in golden coverings;

    He listens for Inspiration’s postman knock

    And takes delivery of the priceless gift

    A little spoilt by the receiver mind

    Or mixed with the manufacture of his brain;

    When least defaced, then is it most divine.

    Although his ego claims the world for its use,

    Man is a dynamo for the cosmic work;

    Nature does most in him, God the high rest:

    Only his soul’s acceptance is his own.

    This independent, once a power supreme,

    Self-born before the universe was made,

    Accepting cosmos, binds himself Nature’s serf

    Till he becomes her freedman—or God’s slave.

    This is the appearance in our mortal front;

    Our greater truth of being lies behind:

    Our consciousness is cosmic and immense,

    But only when we break through Matter’s wall

    In that spiritual vastness can we stand

    Where we can live the masters of our world

    And mind is only a means and body a tool.

    For above the birth of body and of thought

    Our spirit’s truth lives in the naked self

    And from that height, unbound, surveys the world.

    Out of the mind she rose to escape its law

    That it might sleep in some deep shadow of self

    Or fall silent in the silence of the Unseen.

    High she attained and stood from Nature free

    And saw creation’s life from far above,

    Thence upon all she laid her sovereign will

    To dedicate it to God’s timeless calm:

    Then all grew tranquil in her being’s space,

    Only sometimes small thoughts arose and fell

    Like quiet waves upon a silent sea

    Or ripples passing over a lonely pool

    When a stray stone disturbs its dreaming rest.

    Yet the mind’s factory had ceased to work,

    There was no sound of the dynamo’s throb,

    There came no call from the still fields of life.

    Then even those stirrings rose in her no more;

    Her mind now seemed like a vast empty room

    Or like a peaceful landscape without sound.

    This men call quietude and prize as peace.

  • Savitri: Book 1 Canto 4 Section 4

    All here where each thing seems its lonely self

    Are figures of the sole transcendent One:

    Only by him they are, his breath is their life;

    An unseen Presence moulds the oblivious clay.

    A playmate in the mighty Mother’s game,

    One came upon the dubious whirling globe

    To hide from her pursuit in force and form.

    A secret spirit in the Inconscient’s sleep,

    A shapeless Energy, a voiceless Word,

    He was here before the elements could emerge,

    Before there was light of mind or life could breathe.

    Accomplice of her cosmic huge pretence,

    His semblances he turns to real shapes

    And makes the symbol equal with the truth:

    He gives to his timeless thoughts a form in Time.

    He is the substance, he the self of things;

    She has forged from him her works of skill and might:

    She wraps him in the magic of her moods

    And makes of his myriad truths her countless dreams.

    The Master of being has come down to her,

    An immortal child born in the fugitive years.

    In objects wrought, in the persons she conceives,

    Dreaming she chases her idea of him,

    And catches here a look and there a gest:

    Ever he repeats in them his ceaseless births.

    He is the Maker and the world he made,

    He is the vision and he is the Seer;

    He is himself the actor and the act,

    He is himself the knower and the known,

    He is himself the dreamer and the dream.

    There are Two who are One and play in many worlds;

    In Knowledge and Ignorance they have spoken and met

    And light and darkness are their eyes’ interchange;

    Our pleasure and pain are their wrestle and embrace,

    Our deeds, our hopes are intimate to their tale;

    They are married secretly in our thought and life.

    The universe is an endless masquerade:

    For nothing here is utterly what it seems;

    It is a dream-fact vision of a truth

    Which but for the dream would not be wholly true,

    A phenomenon stands out significant

    Against dim backgrounds of eternity;

    We accept its face and pass by all it means;

    A part is seen, we take it for the whole.

  • Savitri: Book 1 Canto 4 Section 6

    The master of existence lurks in us

    And plays at hide-and-seek with his own Force;

    In Nature’s instrument loiters secret God.

    The Immanent lives in man as in his house;

    He has made the universe his pastime’s field,

    A vast gymnasium of his works of might.

    All-knowing he accepts our darkened state,

    Divine, wears shapes of animal or man;

    Eternal, he assents to Fate and Time,

    Immortal, dallies with mortality.

    The All-Conscious ventured into Ignorance,

    The All-Blissful bore to be insensible.

    Incarnate in a world of strife and pain,

    He puts on joy and sorrow like a robe

    And drinks experience like a strengthening wine.

    He whose transcendence rules the pregnant Vasts,

    Prescient now dwells in our subliminal depths,

    A luminous individual Power, alone.

    The Absolute, the Perfect, the Alone

    Has called out of the Silence his mute Force

    Where she lay in the featureless and formless hush

    Guarding from Time by her immobile sleep

    The ineffable puissance of his solitude.

    The Absolute, the Perfect, the Alone

    Has entered with his silence into space:

    He has fashioned these countless persons of one self;

    He has built a million figures of his power;

    He lives in all, who lived in his Vast alone;

    Space is himself and Time is only he.

    The Absolute, the Perfect, the Immune,

    One who is in us as our secret self,

    Our mask of imperfection has assumed,

    He has made this tenement of flesh his own,

    His image in the human measure cast

    That to his divine measure we might rise;

    Then in a figure of divinity

    The Maker shall recast us and impose

    A plan of godhead on the mortal’s mould

    Lifting our finite minds to his infinite,

    Touching the moment with eternity.

    This transfiguration is earth’s due to heaven:

    A mutual debt binds man to the Supreme:

    His nature we must put on as he put ours;

    We are sons of God and must be even as he:

    His human portion, we must grow divine.

    Our life is a paradox with God for key.

  • Savitri: Book 1, Canto 3, Section 2

    As so he grew into his larger self,

    Humanity framed his movements less and less;

    A greater being saw a greater world.

    A fearless will for knowledge dared to erase

    The lines of safety Reason draws that bar

    Mind’s soar, soul’s dive into the Infinite.

    Even his first steps broke our small earth-bounds

    And loitered in a vaster freer air.

    In hands sustained by a transfiguring Might

    He caught up lightly like a giant’s bow

    Left slumbering in a sealed and secret cave

    The powers that sleep unused in man within.

    He made of miracle a normal act

    And turned to a common part of divine works,

    Magnificently natural at this height,

    Efforts that would shatter the strength of mortal hearts,

    Pursued in a royalty of mighty ease

    Aims too sublime for Nature’s daily will:

    The gifts of the spirit crowding came to him;

    They were his life’s pattern and his privilege.

    A pure perception lent its lucent joy:

    Its intimate vision waited not to think;

    It enveloped all Nature in a single glance,

    It looked into the very self of things;

    Deceived no more by form he saw the soul.

    In beings it knew what lurked to them unknown;

    It seized the idea in mind, the wish in the heart;

    It plucked out from grey folds of secrecy

    The motives which from their own sight men hide.

    He felt the beating life in other men

    Invade him with their happiness and their grief;

    Their love, their anger, their unspoken hopes

    Entered in currents or in pouring waves

    Into the immobile ocean of his calm.

    He heard the inspired sound of his own thoughts

    Re-echoed in the vault of other minds;

    The world’s thought-streams travelled into his ken;

    His inner self grew near to others’ selves

    And bore a kinship’s weight, a common tie,

    Yet stood untouched, king of itself, alone.

  • Savitri: Book Three, Canto Three, Section 1

    A MIGHTIER task remained than all he had done.

    To That he turned from which all being comes,

    A sign attending from the Secrecy

    Which knows the Truth ungrasped behind our thoughts

    And guards the world with its all-seeing gaze.

    In the unapproachable stillness of his soul,

    Intense, one-pointed, monumental, lone,

    Patient he sat like an incarnate hope

    Motionless on a pedestal of prayer.

    A strength he sought that was not yet on earth,

    Help from a Power too great for mortal will,

    The light of a Truth now only seen afar,

    A sanction from his high omnipotent Source.