Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri

I was reading this (amongst several other tomes) last night, and couldn’t help but recognise the beauty in it and fall asleep peacefully.

All is too little that the world can give:
Its power and knowledge are the gifts of Time
And cannot fill the spirit’s sacred thirst.
Although of One these forms of greatness are
And by its breath of grace our lives abide,
Although more near to us than nearness’ self,
It is some utter truth of what we are;
Hidden by its own works, it seemed far-off,
Impenetrable, occult, voiceless, obscure.
The Presence was lost by which all things have charm,
The Glory lacked of which they are dim signs.
The world lived on made empty of its Cause,
Like love when the beloved’s face is gone.
The labour to know seemed a vain strife of Mind;
All knowledge ended in the Unknowable:
The effort to rule seemed a vain pride of Will;
A trivial achievement scorned by Time,
All power retired into the Omnipotent.
A cave of darkness guards the eternal Light.
A silence settled on his striving heart;
Absolved from the voices of the world’s desire,
He turned to the Ineffable’s timeless call.
A Being intimate and unnameable,
A wide compelling ecstasy and peace
Felt in himself and all and yet ungrasped,
Approached and faded from his soul’s pursuit
As if for ever luring him beyond.
Near, it retreated; far, it called him still.
Nothing could satisfy but its delight:
Its absence left the greatest actions dull,
Its presence made the smallest seem divine.

Complete text available here:


2 thoughts on “Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri

  1. πŸ™‚What is described so truthfully here by Sri Aurobindo is an undeniable experience to anyone receiving even just glancings of the spirit – even when all matter’s and the world’s bounty are ours, when we do not have the connect with the Soul/Spirit/Truth we feel that we have nothing. # Well…? Tell me, having read this, having enjoyed its beauty, and – the most vital effect of them all πŸ™‚ – having had a goob night’s peaceful sleep, is there anywhere farther these lines take you? Just curious to know where to the long arms of The Sacred Poetry reach…

  2. Dear P,I wonder what could be employed as a measure of the distance that Truth carries one over. I suppose Truth (as presented in this canto’s excerpt) simply transforms a person then and there into someone new and different. Dwija, as they called Brahmins, is basically a twice born. Anyone who is born once, seeks Truth and finds it (by whatever means he employs) is born again…

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