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At the Feet of The Mother

Man, the Despot of Contraries

I am greater than the greatness of the seas,
A swift tornado of God-energy:
A helpless flower that quivers in the breeze,
I am weaker than the reed one breaks with ease.

I harbour all the wisdom of the wise
In my nature of stupendous Ignorance;
On a flame of righteousness I fix my eyes
While I wallow in sweet sin and join hell’s dance.

My mind is brilliant like a full-orbed moon,
Its darkness is the caverned troglodyte’s.
I gather long Time’s wealth and squander soon;
I am an epitome of opposites.

I with repeated life death’s sleep surprise;
I am a transience of the eternities.


Notes on Text
29 July 1940. Two handwritten manuscripts; the first one, entitled “The Spirit of Man”.

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There is no harm in the vital taking part in the joy of the rest of the being; it is the participation of the vital that makes it dynamic and communicates it to the external nature.