74: My God is will and love
A Spiritual Biography of Savitri
Uplifting his disastrous voice [Death]
spoke…
“Back from the grandeur of my
perilous realms
Go, mortal, to thy small permitted
sphere!
Hasten swift-footed, lest to slay
thy life
The great laws thou hast violated,
moved,
Open at last on thee their marble
eyes.”
But Savitri answered the disdainful
Shade:
“World-spirit, I was thy equal
spirit born.
My will too is a law, my strength a
god.
I am immortal in my mortality.
I tremble not before the immobile
gaze
Of the unchanging marble
hierarchies
That look with the stone eyes of
Law and Fate.
My soul can meet them with its
living fire.
Out of thy shadow give me back
again
Into earth's flowering spaces
Satyavan
In the sweet transiency of human limbs
To do with him my spirit's burning
will.
I will bear with him the ancient
Mother's load,
I will follow with him earth's path
that leads to God.
Else shall the eternal spaces open
to me
While round us strange horizons far
recede,
Travelling together the immense
unknown…
Wherever thou leadst his soul I
shall pursue.” …
Against the Woman's boundless heart
arose
The almighty cry of universal
Death:
“Hast thou god-wings or feet that
tread my stars,
Frail creature with the courage
that aspires,
Forgetting thy bounds of thought,
thy mortal role?
Their orbs were coiled before thy
soul was formed.
I, Death, created them out of my
void;
All things I have built in them and
I destroy.
I made the worlds my net, each joy
a mesh…
Blind slave of my deaf force whom I
compel
To sin that I may punish, to desire
That I may scourge thee with
despair and grief
And thou come bleeding to me at the
last,
Thy nothingness recognised, my
greatness known,
Turn nor attempt forbidden happy
fields
Meant for the souls that can obey
my law,
Lest in their sombre shrines thy
tread awake
From their uneasy iron-hearted
sleep
The Furies who avenge fulfilled
desire.
Dread lest in skies where passion
hoped to live,
The Unknown's lightnings start and
terrified,
Lone, sobbing, hunted by the hounds
of heaven,
A wounded and forsaken soul, thou
flee
Through the long torture of the
centuries,
Nor many lives exhaust the tireless
Wrath
Hell cannot slake nor heaven's
mercy assuage.
I will take from thee the black
eternal grip:
Clasping in thy heart thy fate's
exiguous doles
Depart in peace, if peace for man
is just.”
But Savitri answered meeting scorn
with scorn,
The mortal woman to the dreadful
Lord:
“Who is this God imagined by thy
night,
Contemptuously creating worlds
disdained,
Who made for vanity the brilliant
stars?...
My God is Will and triumphs in his
paths,
My God is Love and sweetly suffers
all…
A traveller of the million roads of
life,
His steps familiar with the lights
of heaven
Tread without pain the sword-paved
courts of hell;
There he descends to edge eternal
joy.
Love's golden wings have power to
fan thy void:
The eyes of love gaze starlike
through death's night,
The feet of love tread naked
hardest worlds.
He labours in the depths, exults on
the heights;
He shall remake thy universe, O
Death.”…
And Death made answer to the human
soul:
“What is thy hope? to what dost
thou aspire?
This is thy body's sweetest lure of
bliss,
Assailed by pain a frail precarious
form,
To please for a few years thy
faltering sense…
And thou, what art thou, soul, thou
glorious dream
Of brief emotions made and
glittering thoughts,
A thin dance of fireflies speeding
through the night,
A sparkling ferment in life's
sunlit mire?
Wilt thou claim immortality, O
heart,
Crying against the eternal
witnesses
That thou and he are endless powers
and last?
Death only lasts and the
inconscient Void.
I only am eternal and endure…
I, Death, am He; there is no other
God.
All from my depths are born, they
live by death;
All to my depths return and are no
more…
I, Death, am the one refuge of thy
soul.
The gods to whom man prays can help
not man;
They are my imaginations and my
moods
Reflected in him by illusion's
power.
That which thou seest as thy
immortal self
Is a shadowy icon of my infinite,
Is Death in thee dreaming of
eternity…
Because, O aspirant to divinity,
Thou calledst me to wrestle with
thy soul,
I have assumed a face, a form, a
voice.
But if there were a being
witnessing all,
How should he help thy passionate
desire?...
One endless watches the inconscient
scene
Where all things perish, as the
foam the stars.
The One lives for ever.
There no Satyavan
Changing was born and there no
Savitri
Claims from brief life her bribe of
joy.
There love
Came never with his fretful eyes of
tears,
Nor Time is there nor the vain
vasts of Space…
It is delight immortally alone.
If thou desirest immortality,
Be then alone sufficient to thy
soul:
Live in thyself; forget the man
thou lov'st.
My last grand death shall rescue
thee from life;
Then shalt thou rise into thy unnamed
source.”
But Savitri replied to the dread
Voice:
“O Death, who reasonest, I reason
not,
Reason that scans and breaks, but
cannot build
Or builds in vain because she
doubts her work.
I am, I love, I see, I act, I
will.”
Death answered her, one deep surrounding
cry:
“Know also. Knowing, thou shalt
cease to love
And cease to will, delivered from
thy heart,
So shalt thou rest for ever and be
still,
Consenting to the impermanence of
things.”
But Savitri replied for man to
Death:
“When I have loved for ever, I
shall know.
Love in me knows the truth all
changings mask.
I know that knowledge is a vast
embrace:
I know that every being is myself,
In every heart is hidden the myriad
One.
I know the calm Transcendent bears
the world,
The veiled Inhabitant, the silent
Lord:
I feel his secret act, his intimate
fire;
I hear the murmur of the cosmic
Voice.
I know my coming was a wave from
God.
For all his suns were conscient in
my birth,
And one who loves in us came veiled
by death.
Then man was born among the monstrous
stars
Dowered with a mind and heart to
conquer thee.”
In the eternity of his ruthless
will
Sure of his empire and his armoured
might,
Like one disdaining violent
helpless words
From victim lips Death answered not
again…
Half-seen in clouds appeared a
sombre face;
Night's dusk tiara was his matted
hair,
The ashes of the pyre his
forehead's sign.
Once more a Wanderer in the
unending Night,
Blindly forbidden by dead vacant
eyes,
She travelled through the dumb
unhoping vasts.
Around her rolled the shuddering
waste of gloom…
Through the long fading night by
her compelled,
Gliding half-seen on their
unearthly path,
Phantasmal in the dimness moved the
three.
Savitri, pp. 589-95