SABCL - Volume 5
I. Short Poems
To a Hero-Worshipper
My life is then a wasted ereme,
My song but idle wind
Because you merely find
In all this woven wealth of rhyme
Harsh figures with harsh music wound,
The uncouth voice of gorgeous birds,
A ruby carcanet of sound,
A cloud of lovely words?
I am, you say, no magic-rod,
No cry oracular,
No swart and ominous star,
No Sinai-thunder voicing God,
I have no burden to my song,
No smouldering word instinct with fire,
No spell to chase triumphant wrong,
No spirit-sweet desire.
Mine is not Byron’s lightning spear,
Nor Wordsworth’s lucid strain
Nor Shelley’s lyric pain,
Nor Keats’, the poet without peer.
I by the Indian waters vast
Did glimpse the magic of the past,
And on the oaten-pipe I play
Warped echoes of an earlier day.
My friend, when first my spirit woke,
I trod the scented maze
Of Fancy’s myriad ways,
I studied Nature like a book
Men rack for meanings; yet I find
No rubric in the scarlet rose,
No moral in the murmuring wind,
No message in the snows.
For me the daisy shines a star,
The crocus flames a spire,
A horn of golden fire,
Narcissus glows a silver bar:
Cowslips, the golden breath of God,
I deem the poet’s heritage,
And lilies silvering the sod
Breathe fragrance from his page.
No herald of the Sun am I,
But in a moon-lit veil1
A russet nightingale
Who pours sweet song, he knows not why,
Who pours like a wine2 a gurgling note
Paining with sound his swarthy throat,
Who pours sweet song, he recks not why,
Nor hushes ever lest he die.
Later edition of this work: The Complete Works of Sri Aurobindo.- Set in 37 volumes.- Volume 2.- Collected Poems.- Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 2009.- 751 p.
1 2009 ed. CWSA, vol.2: vale
2 2009 ed. CWSA, vol.2: like wine