A poem by Sri Aurobindo
This body which was once my universe, Is now a pittance carried by the soul,— Its Titan's motion bears this scanty purse, Pacing through vastness to a vaster goal.
Too small was it to meet the giant need That only infinitude can satisfy: He keeps it still, for in the folds is hid His secret passport to eternity.
In his front an endless Time and Space deploy The landscape of their golden happenings; His heart is filled with sweet and violent joy, His mind is upon great and distant things.
How grown with all the world conterminous Is the little dweller in this narrow house!
Part VII : Pondicherry (Circa 1927-1947) > Sonnets from Manuscripts (Circa 1934-1947)
NOTES FROM EDITOR
2 October 1939. Three handwritten manuscripts.
Manuscript
Home
Sri Aurobindo
Poems
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.