A poem by Sri Aurobindo
Out of a still Immensity all came! These million universes were to it The poor light-bubbles of a trivial game, A fragile glimmer in the Infinite.
It could not find its soul in all that vast: It drew itself into a little speck Infinitesimal, ignobly cast Out of earth's mud and slime strangely awake,—
A tiny plasm on a little globe In the small system of a dwarflike sun, A little life wearing the flesh for robe, A little mind winged through wide space to run!
It lived, it knew, it saw its self sublime, Deathless, outmeasuring Space, outlasting Time.
Out of a still immensity we came. These million universes were to it The poor light-bubbles of a trivial game, A fragile glimmer in the Infinite.
It could not find its soul in all that Vast: It drew itself into a little speck Infinitesimal, ignobly cast Out of earth's mud and slime strangely awake,—
A tiny plasm upon a casual globe In the small system of a dwarflike sun, A little life wearing the flesh for robe, A little mind winged through wide space to run.
Part VII : Pondicherry (Circa 1927-1947) > Three Sonnets
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. Three handwritten and four typed manuscripts precede the Circle publication in 1948.
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