A poem by Sri Aurobindo
Our science is an abstract cold and brief That cuts in formulas the living whole. It has a brain and head but not a soul: It sees all things in outward carved relief.
But how without its depths can the world be known? The visible has its roots in the unseen And each invisible hides what it can mean In a yet deeper invisible, unshown.
The objects that you probe are not their form. Each is a mass of forces thrown in shape. The forces caught, their inner lines escape In a fathomless consciousness beyond mind's norm.
Probe it and you shall meet a Being still Infinite, nameless, mute, unknowable.
In occult depths grow Nature's roots unshown; Each visible hides its base in the unseen, Even the invisible guards what it can mean In a yet deeper invisible, unknown.
Man's science builds abstractions cold and bare And carves to formulas the living whole; It is a brain and hand without a soul, A piercing eye behind our outward stare.
The objects that we see are not their form, A mass of forces is the apparent shape; Pursued and seized, their inner lines escape In a vast consciousness beyond our norm.
Follow and you shall meet abysses still, Infinite, wayless, mute, unknowable.
Part VII : Pondicherry (Circa 1927-1947) > Sonnets from Manuscripts (Circa 1934-1947)
How to read the color-coded changes below? 1. SABCL version : lines with any changes & specific changes 2. CWSA version : lines with any changes & specific changes
NOTES FROM EDITOR
Circa 1934-35. Three handwritten manuscripts.
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