Aurobindo 81 Savitri Book 5 Poem by Indira Renganathan

An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Five: The Book of Love
Canto Two: Satyavan
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'All she remembered on this day of Fate,
The road that hazarded not the solemn depths
But turned away to flee to human homes, '
'As if a wicket gate to joy were there
Ringed in with voiceless hint and magic sign,
Upon the margin of an unknown world
Reclined the curve of a sun-held recess; '
Beautiful beginning of a remarkable love..

'Only one sign was there of a human tread: '
'Here first she met on the uncertain earth
The one for whom her heart had come so far.'
'As might a soul on Nature's background limned
Stand out for a moment in a house of dream
Created by the ardent breath of life,
So he appeared against the forest verge
Inset twixt green relief and golden ray.'

'His figure led the splendour of the morn.
Noble and clear as the broad peaceful heavens
A tablet of young wisdom was his brow;
Freedom's imperious beauty curved his limbs,
The joy of life was on his open face.
His look was a wide daybreak of the gods,
His head was a youthful Rishi's touched with light,
His body was a lover's and a king's.'

Only Thy poetic heart can versify pictorial
Words are in extreme bliss of Thou cognition..
'Out of the ignorant eager toil of the years
Abandoning man's loud drama he had come
Led by the wisdom of an adverse Fate
To meet the ancient Mother in her groves.'..

............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

===============================================

Note: Some more inspiring, descriptive and
informative lines from Book 5 Canto 2

Page 392

Groves with strange flowers like eyes of gazing nymphs
Peered from their secrecy into open space,
Boughs whispering to a constancy of light
Sheltered a dim and screened felicity,
And slowly a supine inconstant breeze
Ran like a fleeting sigh of happiness
Over slumbrous grasses pranked with green and gold.

Hidden in the forest's bosom of loneliness
Amid the leaves the inmate voices called,
Sweet like desires enamoured and unseen,
Cry answering to low insistent cry.

Behind slept emerald dumb remotenesses,
Haunt of a Nature passionate, veiled, denied
To all but her own vision lost and wild.

Page 393

As if a weapon of the living Light,
Erect and lofty like a spear of God
His figure led the splendour of the morn.

In the magnificent dawning of his force
Built like a moving statue of delight
He illumined the border of the forest page.