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Re: Poem by Sri Aurobindo

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  • karpani_ru
    A most beautiful poem! I liked it a lot. Thank you for posting it!! This poem reminds me of one of my favorite poems rendered by Sri Aurobindo which Sri
    Message 1 of 3 , Mar 2 7:32 AM
      A most beautiful poem! I liked it a lot. Thank you for posting it!!

      This poem reminds me of one of my favorite poems rendered by Sri
      Aurobindo which Sri Chinmoy used in his play The Descent of the Blue.
      The first time I read it, I was absolutely spellbound, and I have re-
      read it so many times since then. Here is the fragment of the play
      with this poem:

      * * *

      1914. Calcutta. C.R. Das in his study with a friend. He is absorbed
      in reading the English version of one of the poems in his Sagar
      Sangit (Songs of the Sea) rendered by Sri Aurobindo. He reads aloud.

      All day within me only one music rings.
      I have become a lyre of helpless strings,
      And I am but a horn for thee to wind,
      O vast musician! Take me, all thy mind
      In light, in gloom, by day, by night express.
      Into me, minstrel, breathe thy mightiness.
      On solitary shores, in lonely skies,
      In night's huge sieges when the winds blow wild,
      In many a lovely land of mysteries,
      In many a shadowy realm, or where a child,
      Dawn, bright and young, sweet unripe thoughts conceives,
      Or through the indifferent calm desireless eves,
      In magic night and magic light of thee,
      Play on thy instrument, O Soul, O Sea.

      C.R. DAS: Could any rendering be more beautiful than this? I too have
      attempted an English translation of the book. But mark the difference
      here between a born poet and a made poet. It can easily pass for
      original work, and as a true poet he has taken the liberty to improve
      upon the original in many places. To read his work is to enter into
      the splendour of Beauty that is Aurobindo...

      *** from The Descent Of The Blue by Sri Chinmoy

      --- In Sri_Chinmoy_Inspiration@yahoogroups.com, sumangali_m
      <no_reply@y...> wrote:
      > Here is a poem by Sri Aurobindo, which I found very moving. It
      > to echo some recent conversations here about discovering the
      > through the beauty of His creation, as well as perhaps relating to
      > the AM's recent thoughts in message #10936. It also reminded me of
      > the beautiful Shakespeare sonnet Morris posted in message #10899,
      > which has stayed with me and inspired me ever since reading it.
      > Sumangali
      > :oD
      > * * *
      > I have a hundred lives before me yet
      > To grasp thee in, O Spirit ethereal,
      > Be sure I will with heart insatiate
      > Pursue thee like a hunter through them all.
      > Thou yet shalt turn back on the eternal way
      > And with awakened vision watch me come
      > Smiling a little at errors past and lay
      > Thy eager hand in mine, its proper home.
      > Meanwhile made happy by thy happiness
      > I shall approach thee in things and people dear,
      > And in thy spirit's motions half-possess,
      > Loving what thou hast loved, shall feel thee near,
      > Until I lay my hands on thee indeed
      > Somewhere among the stars, as 'twas decreed.
      > - Sri Aurobindo
    • markhoogakker
      Somebody once told me that Sri Chinmoy s two favourite poems of Sri Aurobindo are Who and Invitation . I am not sure whether this is true but anyway they
      Message 2 of 3 , May 20, 2005
        Somebody once told me that Sri Chinmoy's two favourite poems
        of Sri Aurobindo are "Who" and "Invitation". I am not sure whether
        this is true but anyway they thrill my heart and I hope they will
        inspire you too, so here is "Who".


        In the blue of the sky, in the green of the forest,
        Whose is the hand that has painted the glow?
        When the winds were asleep in the womb of the ether,
        Who was it roused them and bade them to blow?

        He is lost in the heart, in the cavern of Nature,
        He is found in the brain where He builds up the thought:
        In the pattern and bloom of the flowers He is woven,
        In the luminous net of the stars He is caught.

        In the strength of a man, in the beauty of woman,
        In the laugh of a boy, in the blush of a girl;
        The hand that sent Jupiter spinning through heaven,
        Spends all its cunning to fashion a curl.

        These are His works and His veils and His shadows;
        But where is He then? By what name is He known?
        Is He Brahma or Vishnu? a man or a woman?
        Bodied or bodiless? twin or alone?

        We have love for a boy who is dark and resplendent,
        A woman is lord of us, naked and fierce.
        We have seen Him a-muse on the snow of the mountains,
        We have watched Him at work in the heart of the spheres.

        We will tell the whole world of His ways and His cunning:
        He has rapture of torture and passion and pain:
        He delights in our sorrow and drives us to weeping,
        Then lures with His joy and His beauty again.

        All music is only the sound of His laughter,
        All beauty the smile of His passionate bliss;
        Our lives are His heart-beats, our rapture the bridal
        of Radha and Krishna, our love is their kiss.

        He is strength that is loud in the blare of the trumpets,
        And He rides in the car and He strikes in the spears;
        He slays without stint and is full of compassion;
        He wars for the world and its ultimate years.

        In the sweep of the worlds, in the surge of the ages,
        ineffable, mighty, majestic and pure,
        Beyond the last pinnacle seized by the thinker
        He is throned in His seats that for ever endure.

        The Master of man and his infinite Lover,
        He is close to our hearts, had we vision to see;
        We are blind with our pride and the pump of our passions,
        We are bound in our thoughts where we hold ourselves free.

        It is He in the sun who is ageless and deathless,
        And into the midnight His shadow is thrown;
        When darkness was blind and engulfed within darkness,
        He was seated within it immense and alone.

        Sri Aurobindo
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