Immerse yourself in Sri Aurobindo’s Savitri: the strife was over, the respite lay in front

#music #poetry #mantras #yoga #meditation #spirituality #sriaurobindo #savitri Sri Aurobindo's epic poem “Savitri” set to music for inspiration, meditation, spiritual exploration "The time spent in its atmosphere is not wasted." — The Mother @suno_savitri Book 4 Canto 4 Not yet was a world all occupied by care. The bosom of our mother kept for us still Her austere regions and her musing depths, Her impersonal reaches lonely and inspired And the mightinesses of her rapture haunts. August, exulting in her Maker’s eye, She felt her nearness to him in earth’s breast, Conversed still with a Light behind the veil, Still communed with Eternity beyond. The strong king-sages from their labour done, Freed from the warrior tension of their task, Came to her serene sessions in these wilds; The strife was over, the respite lay in front. Happy they lived with birds and beasts and flowers And sunlight and the rustle of the leaves, And heard the wild winds wandering in the night, Mused with the stars in their mute constant ranks, And lodged in the mornings as in azure tents, And with the glory of the noons were one. Some deeper plunged; from life’s external clasp Beckoned into a fiery privacy In the soul’s unprofaned star-white recess They sojourned with an everliving Bliss; A Voice profound in the ecstasy and the hush They heard, beheld an all-revealing Light. All time-made difference they overcame; The world was fibred with their own heart-strings; Close drawn to the heart that beats in every breast, They reached the one self in all through boundless love. Nameless the austere ascetics without home Abandoning speech and motion and desire Aloof from creatures sat absorbed, alone, Immaculate in tranquil heights of self On concentration’s luminous voiceless peaks, World-naked hermits with their matted hair Immobile as the passionless great hills Around them grouped like thoughts of some vast mood Awaiting the Infinite’s behest to end. The seers attuned to the universal Will, Content in Him who smiles behind earth’s forms, Abode ungrieved by the insistent days. About them like green trees girdling a hill Young grave disciples fashioned by their touch, Trained to the simple act and conscious word, Greatened within and grew to meet their heights. Assisting the slow entries of the gods, Sowing in young minds immortal thoughts they lived, Taught the great Truth to which man’s race must rise Or opened the gates of freedom to a few. A magic happiness flowed from their touch; Oneness was sovereign in that sylvan peace, The wild beast joined in friendship with its prey; Persuading the hatred and the strife to cease The love that flows from the one Mother’s breast Healed with their hearts the hard and wounded world. Others escaped from the confines of thought To where Mind motionless sleeps waiting Light’s birth, And came back quivering with a nameless Force, Drunk with a wine of lightning in their cells; Intuitive knowledge leaping into speech, Seized, vibrant, kindling with the inspired word, Hearing the subtle voice that clothes the heavens, Carrying the splendour that has lit the suns, They sang Infinity’s names and deathless powers In metres that reflect the moving worlds, Sight’s sound-waves breaking from the soul’s great deeps. Some lost to the person and his strip of thought In a motionless ocean of impersonal Power, Sat mighty, visioned with the Infinite’s light, Or, comrades of the everlasting Will, Surveyed the plan of past and future Time. Some winged like birds out of the cosmic sea And vanished into a bright and featureless Vast: Some silent watched the universal dance, Or helped the world by world-indifference. Some watched no more merged in a lonely Self, Absorbed in the trance from which no soul returns, All the occult world-lines for ever closed, The chains of birth and person cast away: Some uncompanioned reached the Ineffable.