On Poetry
THEME/S
Nor first nor last, but in a timeless gyre
The globes of Beauty burn—a hush made fire:
Their colours self-secluded one by one,
Yet sisters in a joyful union—
Rhythms of quiet, thrill on gemlike thrill
Necklaced around a Throat invisible...
When wearily I string word after word,
I call your flame, O Ecstasies unheard,
To guide my frailty with some touch of you!
Grant me a worship-glow that reaches, through
My dreamful silence ere the musics throng,
Your deathless silence at each close of song.
Sri Aurobindo's Comment
"Very fine. It is a vision of things from the Illumined Mind with the atmosphere of light and colours that reigns there."
Page 64
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