Overhead Poetry

3

The Fall

Our spirit is a paradise blown down,

A sun deflowered, a leprosy of light;

But all its crumbling sacrificial sparks

Drop from the inviolate ether to arouse

An earth-apocalypse slumbering unlit,

A brazier of giant mystery

Lost like a mouth of dream whose tongue lacks fire!

The shredded silver and the shrunken gold,

Caught by this dark divinity of clay,

Shall laugh and blossom brighter than the unmarred

Roses of heaven rooted in sapphire hush.

Sri Aurobindo's Comment

"Not overhead except in substance, but very fine poetry. The 'leprosy of light' is a rather violent expression perhaps, but still.... It is perhaps the rhythm of the lines that belongs to the mental rather than the overhead subtlety and largeness, though the rhythm is good being strong and effective. The ideas and language by themselves have the turn of the Illumined Mind, but the rhythmic breath and power are not of that kind. The images and language are very fine."

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