About Savitri | B1C4-05 The Earth-Goddess’ Toil (pp.50-51)
Along a path of aeons serpentine In the coiled blackness of her nescient course The Earth-Goddess toils across the sands of Time. A Being is in her whom she hopes to know, A Word speaks to her heart she cannot hear, A Fate compels whose form she cannot see. In her unconscious orbit through the Void Out of her mindless depths she strives to rise, A perilous life her gain, a struggling joy; A Thought that can conceive but hardly knows Arises slowly in her and creates The idea, the speech that labels more than it lights; A trembling gladness that is less than bliss Invades from all this beauty that must die. Alarmed by the sorrow dragging at her feet And conscious of the high things not yet won, Ever she nurses in her sleepless breast An inward urge that takes from her rest and peace. Ignorant and weary and invincible She seeks through the soul’s war and quivering pain The pure perfection her marred nature needs, A breath of Godhead on her stone and mire. A faith she craves that can survive defeat, The sureness of a love that knows not death, The radiance of a truth for ever sure.
One day will come when all these hopes will become living realities, all these marvels that have tempted and made us survive and fight against all being negations that will be. No words I can speak.
A light grows in her, she assumes a voice, Her state she learns to read and the act she has done, But the one needed truth eludes her grasp, Herself and all of which she is the sign. An inarticulate whisper drives her steps Of which she feels the force but not the sense; A few rare intimations come as guides, Immense divining flashes cleave her brain, And sometimes in her hours of dream and muse The truth that she has missed looks out on her As if far off and yet within her soul. A change comes near that flees from her surmise And, ever postponed, compels attempt and hope, Yet seems too great for mortal hope to dare. A vision meets her of supernal Powers That draw her as if mighty kinsmen lost Approaching with estranged great luminous gaze. Then is she moved to all that she is not And stretches arms to what was never hers.
It describes the difficulties of the waking of the Consciousness in a body that is not fully conscious and has to learn by experience what it is and what it can.
About Savitri | B1C4-05 The Earth-Goddess’ Toil (pp.50-51)
Along a path of aeons serpentine
In the coiled blackness of her nescient course
The Earth-Goddess toils across the sands of Time.
A Being is in her whom she hopes to know,
A Word speaks to her heart she cannot hear,
A Fate compels whose form she cannot see.
In her unconscious orbit through the Void
Out of her mindless depths she strives to rise,
A perilous life her gain, a struggling joy;
A Thought that can conceive but hardly knows
Arises slowly in her and creates
The idea, the speech that labels more than it lights;
A trembling gladness that is less than bliss
Invades from all this beauty that must die.
Alarmed by the sorrow dragging at her feet
And conscious of the high things not yet won,
Ever she nurses in her sleepless breast
An inward urge that takes from her rest and peace.
Ignorant and weary and invincible
She seeks through the soul’s war and quivering pain
The pure perfection her marred nature needs,
A breath of Godhead on her stone and mire.
A faith she craves that can survive defeat,
The sureness of a love that knows not death,
The radiance of a truth for ever sure.
One day will come when all these hopes will become living realities, all these marvels that have tempted and made us survive and fight against all being negations that will be.
No words I can speak.
A light grows in her, she assumes a voice,
Her state she learns to read and the act she has done,
But the one needed truth eludes her grasp,
Herself and all of which she is the sign.
An inarticulate whisper drives her steps
Of which she feels the force but not the sense;
A few rare intimations come as guides,
Immense divining flashes cleave her brain,
And sometimes in her hours of dream and muse
The truth that she has missed looks out on her
As if far off and yet within her soul.
A change comes near that flees from her surmise
And, ever postponed, compels attempt and hope,
Yet seems too great for mortal hope to dare.
A vision meets her of supernal Powers
That draw her as if mighty kinsmen lost
Approaching with estranged great luminous gaze.
Then is she moved to all that she is not
And stretches arms to what was never hers.
It describes the difficulties of the waking of the Consciousness in a body that is not fully conscious and has to learn by experience what it is and what it can.