Book-7-Study-Canto-1

Book Seven: Canto I

The Joy of Union: the Ordeal of the Foreknowledge of Death and the Heart’s Grief

Summary
Savitri insists upon her choice and fate follows her unchanging road, Ultimately fate is the choice of the soul.

Once again Savitri sets out in her chariot. Accompanied by an armoured escort, she hastens across the fields, cities and rivers under the summer skies till they arrive at the forest border where she had first met Satvavan. Thence they take a narrow path to the hermitage of the blind king and queen row exiled. The retinue leave Savitri at her destination and return most reluctantly.

Savitri is filled with great happiness in the company of her beloved Satyavan. Day and night they are one in their fiery love. But soon summer is followed by the rains. Under the darkened skies with storm and thunder raging, Savitri feels the grief of all the world coming to her and fear strikes her human heart, She is reminded of the fatal date set by Narad for Satyavan’s death.

Savitri tries to forget her grief by flights into the bliss of love, but in vain. Each day that passes brings the peril nearer and increases her sorrow. She keeps the pain to herself and watches the world go happily by unconscious of its unknown doom. She goes through all her household duties gracefully and quietly, pressing back her grief when it surges up in her bosom.

Her life is thus divided. She draws upon her conjugal love to its utmost, fusing body and soul together in ecstasy. Though she does not express her inner grief, Satyavan senses it in some way and gives himself freely to her. But her thirst is not quenched. Her secret sorrow gathers force as the days pass; her inner strength is not yet in evidence. An air of resignation comes over her being in grief.

The allotted year approaches its end. Rain-clouds shut in the earth and the heavy clouds of her grief shut in her heart.

Fate’s Road

Fate followed her foreseen immutable road.

Man’s hopes and longings build the journeying wheels
That bear the body of his destiny
And lead his blind will towards an unknown goal.

And so things took their destined course. Pate followed her way that was foreseen, unchangeable.

The destiny of man is worked out by his various hopes and desires. They form the moving wheels that lead his blind will towards a goal that is fixed but unknown to him,

Nature and Fate Compel

His fate within him shapes his acts and rules;
Its face and form already are born in him,
Its parentage is in his secret soul;
Here Matter seems to mould the body’s life
And the soul follows where its nature drives:
Nature and Fate compel his free-will’s choice.

Man’s fate rules from within and determines his acts. The shape and look—the special features—of his fate are, so to say, born with him. However, the true source of this fate is in his inner soul—not some alien force outside him. His fate is formed according to the choice of his soul.

Here in earthly life it appears as if the life of the body is shaped and determined by Matter and the soul is led by its nature. It has no freedom of choice; its choice is mrhat Nature and Fate compel it to have.

Balance Reversible

But greater spirits this balance can reverse
And make the soul the artist of its fate.

This is the mystic truth our ignorance hides:
Doom is a passage for our inborn force,
Our ordeal is the hidden spirit’s choice,
Ananke is our being’s own decree.

However, this usual balance between soul and fate—fate dominating soul—can be reversed by those who are greater in status than the ordinary run of men. They have it in their power to make their soul decide whit its fate shall be.

This is a spiritual truth that is hidden from us by our ignorance. What appears to be the final doom is really a passage for the self-effectuating force of our inner being; our ordeal is not something forced upon us, but the choice of our concealed spirit. What looks like stern Necessity imposed upon us from outside is really a decision of our own being.

Her Choice Fulfilled
All was fulfilled the heart of Savitri Flower-sweet and adamant, passionate and calm.Had chosen and on her strength-s roodForced to its issue the long cosmic curve

What the soft-sweet but at the same time adamant heart of Savitri, passionate yet calm. has chosen is fulfilled. By her undeflecting strength she frees herself from the effect of the cosmic will.

Once more She Sets out

Once more she sat behind loud hastening hooves;
A speed of armoured squadrons and a voice
Far-heard of chariots bore her from her home.

A couchant earth wakened in its dumb muse
Looked up at her from a vast indolence:

Once again Savitri sets out from her father’s home in a speeding chariot. The dormant earth awakening with her mute musings looks up at her with a vast indolence.

To Shalwa Marches

Hills wallowing in a bright haze, large lands
That lolled at ease beneath the summer heavens,
Region on region spacious in the sun,
Cities like chrysolites in the wide blaze
And yellow rivers pacing, lion-maned,
Led to the Shalwa marches’ emerald line,
A happy front to iron vastnesses
And austere peaks and titan solitudes.

Hills and tracts under the bright summer skies, shining cities under the blazing sun, streaming yellow rivers—all lead to the green forest belt of the Shaiwa region, fronting the great mountains with their severe peaks and vast solitudes.

Fated Place once more

Once more was near the fair and fated place,
The borders gleaming with the groves’ delight
Where first she met the face of Satyavan
And he saw like one waking into a dream
Some timeless beauty and reality,
The moon-gold sweetness of heaven’s earth-born child.

Once again she nears the fair place of destiny—its borders glistening with the delight of the green groves where she had first encountered Satyavan and where, like a person awaking into a dream, Satyavan had first seen the eternal beauty and reality and the pure shining sweetness of Savitri, heaven’s child born o earth.

Past Recedes

The past receded and the future neared:
Far now behind lay Madra’s spacious halls,
The white carved pillars, the cool dim alcoves,
The tinged mosaic of the crystal floors,
The towered pavilions, the wind-rippled pools
And gardens humming with the murmur of bees,
Forgotten soon or a pale memory
The fountain’s plash in the wide stone-bound pool,
The thoughtful noontide’s brooding solemn trance,
The colonnade’s dream grey in the quiet eve,
The slow moonrise gliding in front of Night.

The whole past recedes and the coming future nears. The beauties and delights of the palace and life in Niladra are left far behind, They are forgotten or remain a pale memory.

Left Far Behind

Left far behind were now the faces known,
The happy silken babble on laughter’s lips
And the close-clinging clasp of intimate hands
And adoration’s light in cherished eyes
Offered to the one sovereign of their life.

Left behind are memories of familiar faces, of happy laughter, of intimate clasp, of adoration offered to her as the:4O1e sovereign of their lives by those who cherished her.

Primeval Loneliness

Nature’s primeval loneliness was here:
Here only was the voice of bird and beast,—
The ascetic’s exile in the dim-souled huge
Inhuman forest far from cheerful sound
Of man’s blithe converse and his crowded days.

Here is the loneliness of primeval Nature, here is heard only the voice of bird and beast. Here is the retreat of the ascetic in the huge inhospitable forest far, far away from the cheerful bustle of men laughing and talking a.d Ev:ng their crowded, busy lives.

Roofs of a Hermitage

In a broad eve with one red eye of cloud,
Through a narrow opening, a green flowered cleft,
Out of the stare of sky and soil they came
Into a mighty home of emerald dusk.

There onward led by a faint brooding path
Which toiled through the shadow of enormous trunks
And under arches misers of sunshine,
They saw low thatched roofs of a hermitage

Through a narrow opening in the woods Savitri and her party arrive. From the wide plains, they enter through a narrow opening into the sheltering green of the woods. Thence they proceed along an indistinct path among huge trees and thick arches till they espy the low thatched roofs of a hermitage.

Refuge

Huddled beneath a patch of azure hue
In a sunlit clearing that seemed the outbreak
Of a glad smile in the forest’s monstrous heart,
A rude refuge of the thought and will of man
Watched by the crowding giants of the wood.

The roofs of the hermitage are huddled together beneath a patch of azure sky, a bright clearing that appears like the outbreak of a happy smile in the monstrous heart of the forest. The hermitage strikes one as a rough retreat of the thought and will of man surrounded and watched by the giant trees of the forest.

To the Blind King and Queen

Arrived in that rough-hewn homestead they gave,
Questioning no more the strangeness of her fate,
Their pride and loved one to the great blind king,
A regal pillar of fallen mightiness
And the stately care-worn woman once a queen
Who now hoped nothing for herself from life,
But all things only hoped for her one child,
Calling on that single head from partial Fate
All joy of earth, all heaven’s beatitude.

On arriving at this roughly built homestead, the escorts forced to reconcile themselves to the strange fate of Savitri—their beloved princess, of whom they are so proud – leave her with the blind King Dyumatsena, a royal pillar of fallen glory, and the dignified but care-worn woman who, once a queen, now hopes nothing from life for herself but invokes all blessings for her only child, Satyavan, calling upon Fate—that has proved so severe in her own case—to shower upon him all the joy of earth, all the bliss of heaven.

The Queen’s Joy

Adoring wisdom and beauty like a young god’s,
She saw him loved by heaven as by herself,
She rejoiced in his brightness and believed in his fate
And knew not of the evil drawing near.

The former queen adoring her child’s wisdom and beauty that are like those of a young god. feels that he is loved by the celestials as deeply as by herself. She rejoices in his brightness and believes in a great destiny for him, unaware of the doom that is approaching.

Lingering they Part

Lingering some days upon the forest verge
Like men who lengthen out departure’s pain,
Unwilling to separate sorrowful clinging hands,
Unwilling to see for the last time a face,
Heavy with the sorrow of a coming day
And wondering at the carelessness of Fate
Who breaks with idle hands her supreme works,
They parted from her with pain-fraught burdened hearts ^[1]

Savitri’s escorts, reluctant to leave her and depart, linger on for some days on the forest border. They are like men who go on prolonging the pain of departure, not willing to unclasp sorrowful hands that cling together, not willing to take of their eyes from the face that they are seeing for the last time. They are 1.veighed down by the sorrow of the coming tragedy and wonder at the callousness of Fate who undoes so casually her own supreme works. At last with heavy. pain-burdened hearts they part from Savitri.

^[1]As forced by inescapable fate we part
From one whom we shall never see again;

Even as, forced by inescapable fate, we cart reluctantly from a dear one whom we are not going; to see ever again.

They Leave Her

Driven by the singularity of her fate,
Helpless against the choice of Savitri’s heart
They left her to her rapture and her doom
In the tremendous forest’s savage charge.

Driven by her peculiar fate, helpless against her own self-made choice, they leave Savitri to her joy and her doom, in the wild charge, as it were, of that overwhelming forest.

Savitri Lives for Love

All put behind her that was once her life,
All welcomed that henceforth was his and hers,
She abode with Satyavan in the wild woods:
Priceless she deemed her joy so close to death;
Apart with love she lived for love alone.

Savitri puts behind her all that formed her life before and welcomes all that is hereafter hers and Satyavan’s. She lives with Satyavan in the wild forest and cherishes as priceless her happiness that is so near to approaching death. Alone with love she lives for love alone.

Her immortal Spirit watches

As if self-poised above the march of days,
Her immobile spirit watched the haste of Time,
A statue of passion and invincible force,
An absolutism of sweet imperious will,
A tranquillity and a violence of the gods
Indomitable and immutable.

As though posed in its self above the succession of days, her immobile spirit, an embodiment of passion and unconquerable force, an acme of imperious yet sweet will, a being of a serenity yet of a godly violence, indomitable, immovable, watches the hurrying flow of time.

Gorgeous Dream

At first to her beneath the sapphire heavens
The sylvan solitude was a gorgeous dream,
An altar of the summer’s splendour and fire,
A sky-topped flower-hung palace of the gods
And all its scenes a smile on rapture’s lips
And all its voices bards of happiness.

At first this solitude in the woods under the azure skies is a splendid dream-like experience for Savitri. The whole setting has the bright appearance of a veritable summer altar of light and fire, a unique palace of the gods hung with flowers with the sky for its roof, with all its scenes bringing rapturous smiles and all its voices singing anthems of felicity.

Purple Pageant

There was a chanting in the casual wind,
There was a glory in the least sunbeam;
Night was a chrysoprase on velvet cloth,
A nestling darkness or a moonlit deep;
Day was a purple pageant and a hymn,
A wave of the laughter of light from morn to eve.

Even the casual wind bears music, even the least sunbeam sparkles with a glory. Night is a precious-soft darkness to rest in or a moonlit profound. Day is a splendid pageant, a rising hymn, a wave of golden laughter from morn to eve.

Fusing of Joys

His absence was a dream of memory,
His presence was the empire of a god.

A fusing of the joys of earth and heaven,
A tremulous blaze of nuptial rapture passed,
A rushing of two spirits to be one,
A burning of two bodies in one flame.

Satyavan’s brief absences from the hermitage, away in the woods, pass like dreams filled with a rush of memories. When he is present it is like a god’s domain. There is a union of the delights of heaven and of earth, a vibrant flame of nuptial rapture, a rushing of two spirits to fuse into one, a blaze of two bodies in one flame of love.

Gates of Bliss

Opened were gates of unforgettable bliss:
Two lives were locked within an earthly heaven
And fate and grief fled from that fiery hour.

But soon now failed the summer’s ardent breath
And throngs of blue-black clouds crept through the sky
And rain fled sobbing over the dripping leaves
And storm became the forest’s titan voice.

Gates of unforgettable bliss are opened. Their two lives are locked together in a heaven on earth; fate and grief flee from this hour of intensity. But soon the ardent summer passes and the rains set in. Storm winds blow.

Grief of all the World Nears

Then listening to the thunder’s fatal crash
And the fugitive pattering footsteps of the showers
And the long unsatisfied panting of the wind
And sorrow muttering in the sound-vexed night,
The grief of all the world came near to her:
Night’s darkness seemed her future’s ominous face.

In the crash of thunder, the patter of showers, the panting of the wind, the muttering of sorrow in the varied sounds of the night, the grief of the whole world comes to Savitri. The darkness of the pervading night looks as if it were the ominous face of her own future.

Shadow of Doom

The shadow of her lover’s doom arose
And fear laid hands upon her mortal heart.

The moments swift and ruthless raced; alarmed
Her thoughts, her mind remembered Narad’s date.

The shadow of Satyavan’s death arises and fear seizes her human heart—not her inner spiritual being. Time speeds on relentlessly. Her thoughts are filled with alarm and her mind remembers the date announced by the sage Narad when Satyavan is fated to die.

Grief

A trembling moved accountant of her riches,
She reckoned the insufficient days between:
A dire expectancy knocked at her breast;
Dreadful to her were the footsteps of the hours:
Grief came, a passionate stranger to her gate:
Banished when in his arms, out of her sleep
It rose at morn to look into her face.

Nervously Sayan begins to take stock of her riches and counts the number of days—hardly enough to satisfy—between now and the fateful date. A dreadful expectancy begins to agitate her; the passage of time is fearful. Grief—a passionate stranger—comes to her doors. When she is secure in the arms of Satyavan, grief stands banished; but when she wakes up alone in the mornings, it rises to stare into her face.

Deepest Grief

Vainly she fled into abysms of bliss
From her pursuing foresight of the end.

The more she plunged into love that anguish grew;
Her deepest grief from sweetest gulfs arose.

Remembrance was a poignant pang, she felt
Each day a golden leaf torn cruelly out
From her too slender book of love and joy.

She tries in vain to escape this pursuing spectre of the end by plunging into the bliss of love. Anguish, however, grows with her plunge into love; her deepest grief comes from her sweetest experience—for soon she is to lose it. Each remembrance of the bliss so lived brings a tearful pang; each day that passes is felt as a golden leaf heartlessly torn out of her book of !ove and joy which is too slender as it is.

Feeding Sorrow and Terror

Thus swaying in strong gusts of happiness,
And swimming in foreboding’s sombre waves,
And feeding sorrow and terror with her heart,—
For now they sat among her bosom’s guests
Or in her inner chamber paced apart,—
Her eyes stared blind into the future’s night.

Thus does she swing from high moments of happiness to dark waves of foreboJings. She pours her heart on the altar of sorrow and terror which are now her constant guests and move apart in her inner chamber. She stares blindly into the night that the future holds for her.

Ignorant Smiling World

Out of her separate self she looked and saw,
Moving amid the unconscious faces loved,
In mind a stranger though in heart so near,
The ignorant smiling world go happily by
Upon its way towards an unknown doom
And wondered at the careless lives of men.

But there is a part in her that is aloof from all that happens. Poised upon this separate self, while moving among her I.nved ones who are so utterly unconscious of themselves and, though near to her in heart, are strangers in mind, she watches the world go merrily hy, smiling in its ignorance of the dangers around and ahead, speeding towards a doom of which it is unaware, And she wonders at the careless way in which men spend away their lives.

In Different Worlds

As if in different worlds they walked, though close,
They confident of the returning sun,
They wrapped in little hourly hopes and tasks,—
She in her dreadful knowledge was alone.

Though so close to her physically, her loved ones move as if they were in quite a different world from hers. They are wrapped up in their little, brief hopes and tasks; they are assured that though the sun sets today. it will return tomorrow; they are not worried in the least. Savitri is done fn her dreadful knowledge of the doom that is approaching.

Tragic Hours of Solitude

The rich and happy secrecy that once
Enshrined her as if in a silver bower
Apart in a bright nest of thoughts and dreams
Made room for tragic hours of solitude
And lonely grief that none could share or know,
A body seeing the end too soon of joy
And the fragile happiness of its mortal love.

The profound and happy secrecy in which she was all along accustomed to live alone with her bright thoughts and dreams, now gives place to an unhappy solitude and a grief that she can share with none. Her body sees the premature end of joy and the all too slender happiness of its mortal love.

Graceful acts a Mask

Her quiet visage still and sweet and calm,
Her graceful daily acts were now a mask;
In vain she looked upon her depths to find
A ground of stillness and the spirit’s peace.

Her normally quiet, calm and sweet face and her daily graceful acts are now only a cover to hide the agitation and the gathering grief within her. She tries again and again to find in the depths of her being her base in the stillness and peace of the soul, but it is in vain.

Silent Being Veiled

Still veiled from her was the silent Being within
Who sees life’s drama pass with unmoved eyes,
Supports the sorrow of the mind and heart
And bears in human breasts the world and fate.

A glimpse or flashes came, the Presence was hid.

Still veiled from her is the silent, untouched Being within who watches the passing drama of life with a detached look, supports from within the sorrow of mind and heart, upbears in man the weight of the world and fate. She catches a few glimpses or flashes of it but the constant Presence of that Being is still concealed.

No Way to Save

Only her violent heart and passionate will
Were pushed in front to meet the immutable doom;
Defenceless, nude, bound to her human lot
They had no means to act, no way to save.

It is only her violent heart and impetuous will that are pushed forward by her spirit to face and oppose the advancing, immutable doom. But they are bound to her human limitations, bare, without guard, and are unable to act effectively and save; they have neither the needed means to act, nor do they know a way to save her from her doom.

Diligent Serf

These she controlled, nothing was shown outside:
She was still to them the child they knew and loved;
The sorrowing woman they saw not within;
No change was in her beautiful motions seen:
A worshipped empress all once vied to serve,
She made herself the diligent serf of all,
Nor spared the labour of broom and jar and well,
Or close gentle tending or to heap the fire
Of altar and kitchen, no slight task allowed
To others that her woman’s strength might do.

However, Savitri controls her violent heart and passionate will nothing of them is seen outside. To all around her, she is still the child they have known and loved; they do not see the woman in her silently suffering. There is no visible change in her usual beautiful movements. She, who was once an adored queen whom all competed to serve, now makes herself an attentive servitor of all; she does not spare herself whether it be in the routine menial jobs like sweeping or drawing water from the well or in gently tending to other household affairs or in keeping the sacrificial and the kitchen fires alit. She does not leave for others the slightest task that she in her woman’s strength can do.

Lifting up of Common Acts

In all her acts a strange divinity shone:
Into a simplest movement she could bring
A oneness with earth’s glowing robe of light,
A lifting up of common acts by love.

All-love was hers and its one heavenly cord,
Bound all to all with her as golden tie.

A unique divinity glows in all her actions. Into the most ordinary movement she brings a oneness with the shining light that covers the earth; she raises up even common acts by her love. She has love for all and she is the golden tie that binds all in a common love.

Where Grief Presses

But when her grief to the surface pressed too close,
These things, once gracious adjuncts of her joy,
Seemed meaningless to her, a gleaming shell,
Or were a round mechanical and void,
Her body’s actions shared not by her will.

But when her inner grief presses too near to the surface, all these movements—normally such gracious means for the radiation of her joy—become meaningless to her, a mere shining shell; there is no life in them. They become an empty and mechanical round of routine. Her inner will is absent from the movements of her outer body.

Behind the Divided Life

Always behind this strange divided life
Her spirit like a sea of living fire
Possessed her lover and to his body clung,
One locked embrace to guard its threatened mate.

All night she woke through the slow silent hours
Brooding on the treasure of his bosom and face,
Hung o’er the sleep-bound beauty of his brow
Or laid her burning cheek upon his feet.

Behind this strange life divided between grief within and love and sunshine without, her spirit is a heaving sea of passionate love possessing her lover, clinging to him in a tight embrace lest he be touched by the threatened danger. Throughout the long hours of the night she lies awake brooding over her priceless possession in the person of Satyavan, poring over the beauty of his face relaxed in sleep or laying her cheek burning with sorrow upon his feet.

Inadequate Signs used by Love

Waking at morn her lips endlessly clung to his,
Unwilling ever to separate again
Or lose that honeyed drain of lingering joy,
Unwilling to loose his body from her breast,
The warm inadequate signs that love must use.

On waking up in the morning her lips cling to h’s; unwilling to separate from or lose their honeyed joy, unwilling to free his body from her embrace. These are the warm but inadequate signs that mortal love is obliged to use to express itself.

Expense of Centuries in a Day

Intolerant of the poverty of Time
Her passion catching at the fugitive hours
Willed the expense of centuries in one day
Of prodigal love and the surf of ecstasy;
Or else she strove even in mortal time
To build a little room for timelessness
By the deep union of two human lives,
Her soul secluded shut into his soul.

She feels acutely the poverty of time and the fleeting hours; her passion seeks to compress the excessive love and ecstasy of centuries into a day. Or she strives to gain a fo-othold on eternity in time by affecting a deep union of their two human lives, by merging her solitary Foul in his.

Still Unsatisfied

After all was given she demanded still;
Even by his strong embrace unsatisfied,
She longed to cry, “O tender Satyavan,
O lover of my soul, give more, give more
Of love while yet thou canst, to her thou lovst.

Imprint thyself for every nerve to keep
That thrills to thee the message of my heart.

For soon we part and who shall know how long
Before the great wheel in its monstrous round
Restore us to each other and our love?”

In spite of all the love that she receives, Savitri remains unsatisfied, She longs to cry to Satyavan. Give me more and yet more of love while thou canst. Impress thyself on every nerve of mine that thrills to thee my heart’s message of love. For soon we are to part and who knows when the great wheel of Time in its huge heartless round will restore us to each other and to our love!

Grief Pressed Back

Too well she loved to speak a fateful word
And lay her burden on his happy head;
She pressed the outsurging grief back into her breast
To dwell within silent, unhelped, alone.

But she loves him far too much to reveal to him their fateful future and deliver herself of the burden weighing upon her by laying it upon her happy and carefree Satyavan. She presses the grief that pushes forward back into her heart to remain there silent, unshared and unhelped.

Satyavan Half Understands

But Satyavan sometimes half understood,
Or felt at least with the uncertain answer
Of our thought-blinded hearts the unuttered need,
The unplumbed abyss of her deep passionate want.

But Satyavan half understands that something is wrong. The human heart, veiled though it is by the constant movement of thoughts, sometimes responds. instinctively, though uncertainly, to an unexpressed situation. Satyavan feels Savitri’s need though it is not uttered in words; he feels the profound depth of her intense want.

Satyavan’s Closeness

All of his speeding days that he could spare
From labour in the forest hewing wood
And hunting food in the wild sylvan glades
And service to his father’s sightless life
He gave to her and helped to increase the hours
By the nearness of his presence and his clasp,
And lavish softness of heart-seeking words
And the close beating felt of heart on heart.

Whatever little is left of his fleeting time after his chores of hewing wood, hunting food and serving his blind father, Satyavan gives to Savitri and thus helps to increase the sense of time by his presence, closeness, soft endearing speech and intimacy of heart.

All is Too Little

All was too little for her bottomless need.

If in his presence she forgot awhile,
Grief filled his absence with its aching touch,
She saw the desert of her coming days
Imaged in every solitary hour.

All this, however. proves too little to quench her endless thirst. She forgets the perq for a while

when Satyavan is with her, hut in his absence grief returns and fills her with continuous pain. In each hour spent alone. she sees reflected the dreary desert of her approaching future.

Vain Imaginary Bliss

Although with a vain imaginary bliss
Of fiery union through death’s door of escape
She dreamed of her body robed in funeral flame,
She knew she must not clutch that happiness
To die with him and follow, seizing his robe
Across our other countries, travellers glad
Into the sweet or terrible Beyond.

For those sad parents still would need her here
To help the empty remnant of their day.

Savitri conjures up visions of immolating herself with Satyavan in the hour of his death and uniting with him in the bliss of the heavens beyond. But she knows she must not clutch at that Hellish happiness of following behind him into the regions beyond the earth—be they sweet or terrible. For the sad and bereaved parents of Satyavan would still need her here to help them as long as they lived.

Ages’ Pain Presses into her Woe

Often it seemed to her the ages’ pain
Had pressed their quintessence into her single woe
Concentrating in her a tortured world.

Thus in the silent chamber of her soul
Cloistering her love to live with secret grief
She dwelt like a dumb priest with hidden gods
Unappeased by the wordless offering of her days,
Lifting to them her sorrow like frankincense,
Her life the altar, herself the sacrifice.

Often she feels as if the pain of centuries has compressed itself into her single woe, concentrating as it were the whole tortured world in her single person, Thus in the silent depths of her soul disciplining her Love to accept her secret grief, she lives like a dumb priest serving veiled gods who are never satisfied with the mute offering of her days. To these gods she lifts her sorrow like incense; her life is the altar of her worship and she herself is the oblation.

They Grow into each other

Yet ever they grew into each other more
Until it seemed no power could rend apart,
Since even the body’s walls could not divide.

For when he wandered in the forest, oft
Her conscious spirit walked with him and knew
His actions as if in herself he moved;
He, less aware, thrilled with her from afar.

Withal, both she and he grow more and more into each other till it looks as if they cannot be separated by any power; even the physical barriers of the body are not able to divide them into two. When he goes into the forest, her wakeful spirit accompanies him and knows his movements as if they took place in her own being. He is less conscious, yet his being vibrates in tune with her even when physically at a distance from her.

Her Mighty Love Fills

Always the stature of her passion grew;
Grief, fear became the food of mighty love.

Increased by its torment it filled the whole world,
It was all her life, became her whole earth and heaven.

Her passion goes on increasing in its stature_ Her grief and fear only go to feed her mighty love. Growing on this torment, her love fills her whole world; it is not only her entire life but becomes for her the whole earth here and the heaven beyond. There is nothing beyond her mighty love.

Anvil for Blows of Fate and Time

Although life-born, an infant of the hours,
Immortal it walked unslayable as the gods:
Her spirit stretched measureless in strength divine
An anvil for the blows of Fate and Time:
Or tired of sorrow’s passionate luxury,
Grief’s self became calm, dull-eyed, resolute
Awaiting some issue of its fiery struggle,
Some deed in which it might for ever cease,
Victorious over itself and death and tears.

Though young in mortal life, her love is immortal, unslayable as the gods. Her spirit, divine in its strength, expands itself infinitely, a veritable anvil for the blows of Fate and Time. Though tired of the continuous intensity of sorrow, her being of grief remains calm and determined to resign itself to whatever issue may emerge from the struggle, either some deed in which it might cease for ever, or become victorious over itself, death and tears.

Griefs Heavy Sky

The year now paused upon the brink of change.

No more the storms sailed with stupendous wings
And thunder strode in wrath across the world,
And still was heard a muttering in the sky
And rain dripped wearily through the mournful air
And grey slow-drifting clouds shut in the earth.

So her grief’s heavy sky shut in her heart.

The one year is now about to end. Storm and thunder cease; rain drips slowly through the dismal air. Grey slow-sailing clouds enclose the earth.

Even so the heavy skies of her grief shut in Savitri’s heart

Human Heart Speaks to Body’s Fate

A still self hid behind but gave no light:
No voice came down from the forgotten heights;
Only in the privacy of its brooding pain
Her human heart spoke to the body’s fate.

Her still silent self is there behind, but it throws no light. Nor is any voice heard from the heights that are now forgotten in this hour of crisis. Only her human heart, in the solitude of its engrossing pain, communes with the fate of her physical body.

Only her human part continues to be active.