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Readings in Sri Aurobindo's Savitri: A Legend and a Symbol, Book IV, Canto I The Birth and Childhood of the Flame · Sri Aurobindo Studies

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  A Maynard of the cycles of desire around a light she must
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  not dare to touch. Hastening toward a far off
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  unknown goal, Earth followed the endless journey of the sun, A
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  mind but half awake in the swing of the void, on the bosom of
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  inconscience dreamed out life. And bore this finite world of
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  thought and deed across the immobile trance of the infinite.
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  A vast, immutable silence with her ran prisoner of speed upon a
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  jeweled wheel. She communed with the Mystic
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  heart in space amid the ambiguous stillness of the
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  stars. She moved towards some
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  undisclosed event, and her rhythm measured the long whirl
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  of time in ceaseless motion round the purple rim, day after
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  day, sped by like coloured spokes and through a glamour of
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  shifting hues of air. The seasons drew in link
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  significant dance, the symbol pageant of the changing year.
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  Across the burning languor of the soil paced Summer with his
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  pomp of violent noons, and stamped his tyranny of torrid
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  light and the blue seal of a great burnished sky.
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  Next, through its fiery swoon or clotted knot, rain tide burst in
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  upon torn wings of heat, startled with lightnings, airs,
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  unquiet drows. Lashed with life, giving streams
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  the torpid soil overcast with flare and sound and storm wing
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  dark, the star defended doors of heaven's dim sleep or from the
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  gold eye of her paramour Covered with packed cloud veils the
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  earth's brown face. Armies of revolution crossed the
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  time field. The clouds unending March
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  besieged the world. Tempest Pronuncia Mentos claimed
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  The sky and Thunder drums announced the embattled gods.
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  The traveller from unquiet neighboring seas, the dense
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  mained monsoon rode neighing through earth's hours thick.
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  Now the emissary Javelins enormous lightning split the
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  horizons rim and. Hurled from the quarters, as
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  from contending camps married heavens, edges steep and bare
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  and blind, a surge and hiss an onset of huge rain.
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  The long straight sleep, drift, clamors of winged storm charge,
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  throngs of wind, faces rushing of wind, feet hurrying, swept
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  through the prone afflicted planes.
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  Evans waters trailed and dribbled through the drowned
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  land. Then all was a siff stride, a
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  sibilant race, or all was tempests shout and waters fall.
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  A dibness sagged on the Gray floor of day.
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  It's dingy, sprawling length joined morn to Eve, wallowing in
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  sludge and shower. It reached black, dark.
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  Day 1/2 Darkness wore as its dull dress.
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  Light looked into dawn's tarnished glass and met its own
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  face. There, twin to 1/2, lit nights
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  downpour and drip and seeping. Mist swayed all and turned dry,
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  soil to bog and reeking mud. Earth was a quagmire, heaven a
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  dismal block. None saw through dank drenched
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  weeks the dungeon sun. Even when no turmoil vexed air,
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  somber rest or a faint ray glimmered through weeping clouds
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  as a sad smile gleams veiled by returning chair.
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  Tears all promised brightness, failed at once denied or soon
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  condemned, died like a brief lived hope.
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  Than a last mass of deluge thrashed dead mire, and a
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  subsiding mudder left all still. Or only the muddy creep of
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  sinking floods, or only a whisper and green toss of trees.
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  Earth's mood now changed. She lay in lulled repose.
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  The hours went by with slow, contented tread.
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  A wide and tranquil air remembered peace.
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  Earth was the comrade of a happy sun.
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  A calmness neared as of the approach of God.
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  A light of musing, trance lit soil and sky, and an identity
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  and ecstasy filled meditation. Solitary heart, a dream loitered
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  in the dumb mind of space. Time opened, its chambers of
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  Felicity and exaltation entered, and a hope and inmost self
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  looked up to a heavenlier height, and inmost thought
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  kindled a hidden flame, and the inner sight adored an unseen
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  sun. 3 thoughtful seasons passed with shining tread.
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  And scanning 1 by 1, the pregnant hours watched for a
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  flame that lurked in luminous depths, the vigil of some mighty
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  birth to come. Autumn led in the glory of her
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  moons, and dreamed in the splendor of her Lotus pools and
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  winter and due time laid their calm, cool hands on nature's
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  bosom, still in 1/2 sleep. And deepened with hues of lacks
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  and mellow ease the tranquil beauty of the weaning year then
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  spring. An ardent lover leaped through
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  leaves and caught the earth bride in his eager clasp.
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  His advent was a fire of irised hues.
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  His arms were a circle of the arrival of joy.
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  His voice was a call to the transcendent sphere.
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  Whose secret touch upon our mortal lives keeps ever new.
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  The thrill that made the world remoulds an ancient sweetness to
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  new shapes and guards intact, unchanged by death and time.
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  The answer of our hearts to nature's charm, and keeps
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  forever new, yet still the same, the throb that ever wakes to the
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  old delight. And beauty and rapture, and the
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  joy to live. His coming brought the magic and
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  the spell at his touch. Life's tired heart grew.
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  Glad and young he made joy a willing prisoner in her breast.
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  His grasp was a young gods upon earth's limbs, changed by the
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  passion of his divine outbreak. He made her body beautiful with
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  his kiss. Impatient for Felicity, he came
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  high, fluting with the coils happy voice, his Peacock turban
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  trailing on the trees. His breath was a warm summons to
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  delight. The dense, voluptuous Azure was
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  his gaze. A soft celestial urge surprised
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  the blood, rich with the instinct of God's censuous joys
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  revealed in beauty. A cadence was abroad, insistent
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  on the rapture thrill in life. Immortal movements touched the
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  fleeting hours. A godlike, packed intensity of
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  sense made it a passionate pleasure even to breathe.
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  All sights and voices wove a single charm.
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  The life of the enchanted globe became a storm of sweetness and
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  of light and song. A revel of color and of ecstasy,
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  A hymn of rays, a litany of cries, a strain of coral.
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  Priestly music sang and swung on the saying censor of the trees.
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  A sacrifice of perfume filled the hours.
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  Ashoka's burned in Crimson spots of flame, pure like the breath
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  of an unstained desire. White Jasmine's haunted the
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  enamored air. Pale mango blossoms fed the
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  liquid voice of the Love Madden coil and the brown bee muttered
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  in fragrance mid the honey buds. The sunlight was a great God's
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  golden smile. All nature was at Beauty's
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  Festival.