Aurobindo 32-Savitri-Book -2

An appreciation on Savitri Book II The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds Canto V The Godheads of the Little Life Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's 'A thinking puppet is the mind of life: Its choice is the work of elemental strengths' 'For none can see the masked ironic troupe To whom our figure-selves are marionettes, Our deeds unwitting movements in their grasp, Our passionate strife an entertainment's scene.' 'Ignorant themselves of their own fount of strength They play their part in the enormous whole.' 'Agents of darkness imitating light, Spirits obscure and moving things obscure, Unwillingly they serve a mightier Power.' 'Tools of the Unknown who use us as their tools, ' 'toss the lives of men from hand to hand' 'Against all higher truth their stuff rebels; ' 'Inordinate their hold on human hearts, In all our nature's turns they intervene.' 'These slight illusion-makers with their masks, Painters of the decor of a dull-hued stage And nimble scene-shifters of the human play, Ever are busy with this ill-lit scene.' Thus they inflict their little pigmy law And curb the mounting slow uprise of man, Then his too scanty walk with death they close. 'This is the ephemeral creature's daily life. As long as the human animal is lord' 'An incurable littleness pursues his days.' 'A gross content prolongs his fallen state; 'Hardship and toil are the heavy price he pays For the right to live and his last wages death.' 'A sleep that imitates death is his repose.'.... ............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 2 Canto 5 Page 162 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. Ananke's engines organising Chance, Channels perverse of a stupendous Will, Page 163 Insignificant architects of low-built lives And engineers of interest and desire, Out of crude earthiness and muddy thrills And coarse reactions of material nerve They build our huddled structures of self-will And the ill-lighted mansions of our thought, Or with the ego's factories and marts Surround the beautiful temple of the soul. Artists minute of the hues of littleness, They set the mosaic of our comedy Or plan the trivial tragedy of our days, Arrange the deed, combine the circumstance And the fantasia of the moods costume. These unwise prompters of man's ignorant heart And tutors of his stumbling speech and will, Movers of petty wraths and lusts and hates And changeful thoughts and shallow emotion's starts, These slight illusion-makers with their masks, Painters of the decor of a dull-hued stage And nimble scene-shifters of the human play, Ever are busy with this ill-lit scene. Page 164 Ever since consciousness was born on earth, Life is the same in insect, ape and man, Its stuff unchanged, its way the common route. His small successes are failures of the soul, His little pleasures punctuate frequent griefs: