Savitri Study Classes in Hindi

Worlds were there of a happiness great and grave And action tinged with dream, laughter with thought, And passion there could wait for its desire Until it heard the near approach of God.

There reigned a breath of high immune content, A fortunate gait of days in tranquil air, A flood of universal love and peace.

When earth was built in the unconscious Void And nothing was save a material scene, Identified with sea and sky and stone Her young gods yearned for the release of souls Asleep in objects, vague, inanimate.

A world that ever seeks for something missed, Hunts for the joy that earth has failed to keep.

Ascending slowly with unconscious steps, A foundling of the Gods she wanders here Like a child-soul left near the gates of Hell Fumbling through fog in search of Paradise.

It was a vain unnecessary world Whose will to be brought poor and sad results And meaningless suffering and a grey unease. Nothing seemed worth the labour to become.

Creator of this game of ray and shade In this sweet and bitter paradoxical life, Asks from the body the soul's intimacies And by the swift vibration of a nerve Links its mechanic throbs to light and love.

Although on earth are firm established lives, A working of habit or a sense of law, A steady repetition in the flux, Yet are its roots of will ever the same; These passions are the stuff of which we are made.

It hunted and it fled and sniffed the winds, Or slothed inert in sunshine and soft air: It sought the engrossing contacts of the world, But only to feed the surface sense with bliss.

In war and clasp these life-wants joined the All-Life, Wrestlings of a divided unity Inflicting mutual grief and happiness In ignorance of the Self for ever one.

It fashioned the life-mind of bird and beast, The answer of the reptile and the fish, The primitive pattern of the thoughts of man.

Absorbed in the little works of its prison-house It turned around the same unchanging points In the same circle of interest and desire, But thought itself the master of its jail.

The little deities of Time's nether act Who work remote from Heaven's controlling eye, Plotted, unknown to the creatures whom they move, The small conspiracies of this petty reign

Our life's uncertain way winds circling on, Our mind's unquiet search asks always light, Till they have learned their secret in their source, In the light of the Timeless and its spaceless home, In the joy of the Eternal sole and one.

A dream of living woke in Matter's heart, A will to live moved the Inconscient's dust, A freak of living startled vacant Time, Ephemeral in a blank eternity, Infinitesimal in a dead Infinite.

A creature insignificant and small Visited, uplifted by an unknown Power, Man laboured on his little patch of earth For means to last, to enjoy, to suffer and die.

This huge world unintelligibly turns In the shadow of a mused Inconscience; It hides a key to inner meanings missed, It locks in our hearts a voice we cannot hear.

In this nether life of man drab-hued and dull, Yet filled with poignant small ignoble things, The conscious Doll is pushed a hundred ways And feels the push but not the hands that drive.