Aurobindo 125 Savitri Book 8 Poem by Indira Renganathan

An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Eight:The Book of Death
Canto Three*:Death in the Forest
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'Then the doomed husband and the woman who knew
Went with linked hands into that solemn world'
Beside her Satyavan walked full of joy
Because she moved with him through his green haunts:
He showed her all the forest's riches, flowers
Innumerable of every odour and hue'
'But little dwelt her mind upon their sense;
Of death, not life she thought or life's lone end.'

'Love in her bosom hurt with the jagged edges
Of anguish moaned at every step with pain
Crying, 'Now, now perhaps his voice will cease
For ever.'Even by some vague touch oppressed
Sometimes her eyes looked round as if their orbs
Might see the dim and dreadful god's approach.
'But Satyavan had paused. He meant to finish
His labour here that happy, linked, uncaring'

'She like a pantheress leaped upon his words
And carried them into her cavern heart.
But as he worked, his doom upon him came.
The violent and hungry hounds of pain
Travelled through his body biting as they passed
Silently, and all his suffering breath besieged
Strove to rend life's strong heart-cords and be free.
'She came to him in silent anguish and clasped, '

'And he cried to her, 'Savitri, a pang
Cleaves through my head and breast as if the axe
Were piercing it and not the living branch.'
'Awhile let me lay my head upon thy lap
And guard me with thy hands from evil fate:
Perhaps because thou touchest, death may pass.'...

............My consciousness this moment,
O'Guru, I'm in awe....in invincible heights
Ineffable Thee embellishing poetic creation
My inquisitive apprehension, erring Thee may opine
May there so, let Savitri in my self arise
Aroused there so be knowledge and fortune

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Note; Some more inspiring descriptive and
informative lines from Book8 Canto 3

Page 563

A tree that raised its tranquil head to heaven
Luxuriating in verdure, summoning
The breeze with amorous wideness of its boughs,
He chose and with his steel assailed the arm
Brown, rough and strong hidden in its emerald dress.

Page 563&564

every moment she economised
Like a pale merchant leaned above his store,
The miser of his poor remaining gold.
But Satyavan wielded a joyous axe.
He sang high snatches of a sage's chant

That pealed of conquered death and demons slain,
And sometimes paused to cry to her sweet speech
Of love and mockery tenderer than love:

Page 564

Now the great woodsman
Hewed at him and his labour ceased: lifting
His arm he flung away the poignant axe
Far from him like an instrument of pain.