Savitri – Eine Legende und ein Symbol. Sri Aurobindo

a hymn of joy.

      A divinity and kingliness gird his brow;

      His eyes keep a memory from a world of bliss.

      As brilliant as a lonely moon in heaven,

      Gentle like the sweet bud that spring desires,

      Pure like a stream that kisses silent banks,

      He takes with bright surprise spirit and sense.

      A living knot of golden Paradise,

      A blue Immense he leans to the longing world,

      Time’s joy borrowed out of eternity,

      A star of splendour or a rose of bliss.

      In him soul and Nature, equal Presences,

      Balance and fuse in a wide harmony.

      The Happy in their bright ether have not hearts

      More sweet and true than this of mortal make

      That takes all joy as the world’s native gift

      And to all gives joy as the world’s natural right.

      His speech carries a light of inner truth,

      And a large-eyed communion with the Power

      In common things has made veilless his mind,

      A seer in earth-shapes of garbless deity.

      A tranquil breadth of sky windless and still

      Watching the world like a mind of unplumbed thought,

      A silent space musing and luminous

      Uncovered by the morning to delight,

      A green tangle of trees upon a happy hill

      Made into a murmuring nest by southern winds,

      These are his images and parallels,

      His kin in beauty and in depth his peers.

      A will to climb lifts a delight to live,

      Heaven’s height companion of earth-beauty’s charm,

      An aspiration to the immortals’ air

      Lain on the lap of mortal ecstasy.

      His sweetness and his joy attract all hearts

      To live with his own in a glad tenancy,

      His strength is like a tower built to reach heaven,

      A godhead quarried from the stones of life.

      O loss, if death into its elements

      Of which his gracious envelope was built,

      Shatter this vase before it breathes its sweets,

      As if earth could not keep too long from heaven

      A treasure thus unique loaned by the gods,

      A being so rare, of so divine a make!

      In one brief year when this bright hour flies back

      And perches careless on a branch of Time,

      This sovereign glory ends heaven lent to earth,

      This splendour vanishes from the mortal’s sky:

      Heaven’s greatness came, but was too great to stay.

      Twelve swift-winged months are given to him and her;

      This day returning Satyavan must die.”

      A lightning bright and nude the sentence fell.

      But the queen cried: “Vain then can be heaven’s grace!

      Heaven mocks us with the brilliance of its gifts,

      For Death is a cupbearer of the wine

      Of too brief joy held up to mortal lips

      For a passionate moment by the careless gods.

      But I reject the grace and the mockery.

      Mounting thy car go forth, O Savitri,

      And travel once more through the peopled lands.

      Alas, in the green gladness of the woods

      Thy heart has stooped to a misleading call.

      Choose once again and leave this fated head,

      Death is the gardener of this wonder-tree;

      Love’s sweetness sleeps in his pale marble hand.

      Advancing in a honeyed line but closed,

      A little joy would buy too bitter an end.

      Plead not thy choice, for death has made it vain.

      Thy youth and radiance were not born to lie

      A casket void dropped on a careless soil;

      A choice less rare may call a happier fate.”

      But Savitri answered from her violent heart, –

      Her voice was calm, her face was fixed like steel:

      “Once my heart chose and chooses not again.

      The word I have spoken can never be erased,

      It is written in the record book of God.

      The truth once uttered, from the earth’s air effaced,

      By mind forgotten, sounds immortally

      For ever in the memory of Time.

      Once the dice fall thrown by the hand of Fate

      In an eternal moment of the gods.

      My heart has sealed its troth to Satyavan:

      Its signature adverse Fate cannot efface,

      Its seal not Fate nor Death nor Time dissolve.

      Those who shall part who have grown one being within?

      Death’s grip can break our bodies, not our souls;

      If death take him, I too know how to die.

      Let Fate do with me what she will or can;

      I am stronger than death and greater than my fate;

      My love shall outlast the world, doom falls from me

      Helpless against my immortality.

      Fate’s law may change, but not my spirit’s will.”

      An adamant will, she cast her speech like bronze.

      But in the queen’s mind listening her words

      Rang like the voice of a self-chosen Doom

      Denying every issue of escape.

      To her own despair answer the mother made;

      As one she cried who in her heavy heart

      Labours amid the sobbing of her hopes

      To wake a note of help from sadder strings:

      “O child, in the magnificence of thy soul

      Dwelling on the border of a greater world

      And dazzled by thy superhuman thoughts,

      Thou lendst eternity to a mortal hope.

      Here on this mutable and ignorant earth

      Who is the lover and who is the friend?

      All passes here, nothing remains the same.

      None is for any on this transient globe.

      He whom thou lovest now, a stranger came

      And into a far strangeness shall depart:

      His moment’s part once done upon life’s stage

      Which