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At the Feet of The Mother

Death Draws out the Soul of Satyavan, pp. 575-576

Opening Remarks
Savitri now prepares herself for the journey in the trail of Death carrying the soul of Satyavan.

Knew not the course
She knew not to what course: her spirit above
On the crypt-summit of her secret form
Like one left sentinel on a mountain crest,
A fiery-footed splendour puissant-winged,
Watched flaming-silent, with her voiceless soul
Like a still sail upon a windless sea.

Savitri knew not the way that Death will take. Her spirit now stationed above her body kept a watch as a sentinel on a mountain peak. With feet of fire ready to move at the slightest indication, with wings of puissant splendour ready to fly any moment, she waited. Her voiceless soul like a still sail upon a windless sea watched the scene unfold as a silent flame.

White passionless it rode, an anchored might,
Waiting what far-ridged impulse should arise
Out of the eternal depths and cast its surge.

Pure and passionless Savitri rode with her might anchored in her soul. She waited to see what tremendous impulsion may arise out of the eternal depths and in its surge carry her far towards the edge of Space and Time.

Then Death the king
Then Death the king leaned boundless down, as leans
Night over tired lands, when evening pales
And fading gleams break down the horizon’s walls,
Nor yet the dusk grows mystic with the moon.

Then boundless Death, the king of the mortal worlds leaned down as Night leans over tired lands as evening begins to fade as its dull gleams break the horizons at dusk. The gathering dusk was yet to give the mystic feel with the appearance of the moon.

Dim and awful godhead
The dim and awful godhead rose erect
From his brief stooping to his touch on earth,
And, like a dream that wakes out of a dream,
Forsaking the poor mould of that dead clay,
Another luminous Satyavan arose,
Starting upright from the recumbent earth
As if someone over viewless borders stepped
Emerging on the edge of unseen worlds.

Death, the dim and awful godhead then rose erect from his brief touch upon earth and then, like a dream within a dream, Satyavan arose straight and upright from the prone earth in a luminous body as if someone stepped over viewless borders emerging on the edges of the world.

The silent marvel
In the earth’s day the silent marvel stood
Between the mortal woman and the god.

The soul of Satyavan stood as a silent marvel between Savitri and the god of Death.

Closing Remarks
Death draws out the soul of Satyavan while his body, an empty shell is left behind upon earth.

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Hypnotism is a form — a form modernised in its expression — of occultism; a very limited, very small form of a very tiny power compared with occult power.