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At the Feet of The Mother

Strange Divided Life, pp. 470-471

Opening Remarks
Savitri at this juncture leads a strange life carrying her grief within silently whereas giving happiness and service to all who are around.

Strange divinity shown
In all her acts a strange divinity shone:
Into a simplest movement she could bring
A oneness with earth’s glowing robe of light,
A lifting up of common acts by love.

In all her acts a strange divinity could be seen and felt. In the simplest of movements she could bring a oneness with earth’s luminous self and a lifting up of common acts by love.

All-love was hers
All-love was hers and its one heavenly cord
Bound all to all with her as golden tie.

All-love was hers and with its heavenly chord she bound all to all with her as the golden tie.

Grief pressed to the surface
But when her grief to the surface pressed too close,
These things, once gracious adjuncts of her joy,
Seemed meaningless to her, a gleaming shell,
Or were a round mechanical and void,
Her body’s actions shared not by her will.

But when grief arose and pressed to the surface the very things that gave her joy seemed meaningless and vain, a gleaming shell or a mechanical activity, empty of any dynamic will.

Divided life
Always behind this strange divided life
Her spirit like a sea of living fire
Possessed her lover and to his body clung,
One locked embrace to guard its threatened mate.

Though divided between joy and grief, torn in her heart by the foreseen doom, Savitri’s spirit was like a sea of living fire that possessed her lover Satyavan and clung to his body, embracing as if to lock and guard it.

Slow silent hours of Night
At night she woke through the slow silent hours
Brooding on the treasure of his bosom and face,
Hung o’er the sleep-bound beauty of his brow
Or laid her burning cheek upon his feet.

Night passed slow and solemn as she often woke up brooding on the treasure named Satyavan. Looking at his bosom and face, she hung over his sleep-bound beautiful brow or laid her burning cheek upon his feet.

Waking at morn
Waking at morn her lips endlessly clung to his,
Unwilling ever to separate again
Or lose that honeyed drain of lingering joy,
Unwilling to loose his body from her breast,
The warm inadequate signs that love must use.

Waking at morn her lips clung to his endlessly as if never to separate again and unwilling to lose its honey of lingering joy and unwilling to lose his body from her embrace. These are the warm inadequate signs through which love must express itself.

Poverty of time
Intolerant of the poverty of Time
Her passion catching at the fugitive hours
Willed the expense of centuries in one day
Of prodigal love and the surf of ecstasy;
Or else she strove even in mortal time
To build a little room for timelessness
By the deep union of two human lives,
Her soul secluded shut into his soul.

Not willing to accept or tolerate the little time she was destined to have with Satyavan, her passion caught the fleeting hours hoping to cover centuries of such rare beautiful love and ecstasy in each day. Her soul secluded shut alone with his soul, she strove to build a little temple of timeless experiences in mortal time by the deep union of two human lives.

Closing Remarks
Thus were the days and nights of Savitri as if ring against time while she struggled to hold the joy of love against the seize of death.

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