A poem by Sri Aurobindo
How shall ascending nature near her goal? Not through man's stumbling tardy intellect Patient all forms and powers to dissect But by the surer vision of his soul.
An algebra of mind, a scheme of sense, A symbol language without depth or wings, A power to handle deftly outward things Are our scant earnings of intelligence.
The Truth is greater and asks deeper ways. A sense that gathers all in its own being, A close and luminous touch, an intimate seeing, A Thought flung free from the words' daedal maze,
A tranquil heart in sympathy with all, A will one-pointed, wide, imperial.
What points ascending Nature to her goal? 'Tis not man's lame transcribing intellect With its carved figures rigid and erect But the far subtle vision of his soul.
His instruments have served his weakness well But they must change to tread the paths of Fire That lead through his calm self immeasurable To the last rapture's incandescent spire.
The spirit keeps for him its ample ways, A sense that takes the world into our being, A close illumined touch and intimate seeing, Wide Thought that is a god's ensphering gaze,
A tranquil heart in sympathy with all, A will wide-winging, armed, imperial.
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. Four handwritten manuscripts.
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