RISHI DIRGHATAMA Many of the Upanishadic rishis are familiar to you. Vedic rishis are perhaps not so. Today I will speak of one of the Vedic rishis. Some names of great Vedic rishis must have reached your ears —Vashishtha, Vishwamitra, Atri, Parasara, Kanwa (I do not know if it is the same Kanwa of whom Kalidasa speaks in his Shakuntala), Madhuchchanda. All of them are seers of mantra, hearers of mantra, creators of mantra; all of them occupy a large place in the Veda. Each one of them has his speciality, each one delivers a mantra that is in its tone, temper and style his own although the subject matter, the substance, the fundamental realisation

HYMN TO DARKNESS Here is a modem poem in Bengali. It is characteristically modern, though perhaps not quite modernist. It is an invocation to Darkness: That darkness is not more, The darkness in which my heart plunged when you came, It is no more there. Many are the lights now around the heart Arrayed as in a festive illumination. Ceaseless now There is the earth's merry-go-round all the time. But beyond still, Outside Time, the mind, even this mind stands And sends its call to Thee alone. Yes, the Darkness is there no longer; And yet stretching out both the arms My mind yearns to reach the Darkness And its

SEER POETS NOLINI KANTA GUPTA SRI AUROBINDO ASHRAM PONDICHERRY First Published : 1970 June 1970 © Sri Aurobindo Ashram Trust 1970 Published by Sri Aurobindo Ashram, Pondicherry Printed at Sri Aurobindo Ashram Press, Pondicherry PRINTED IN INDIA

APPENDIX WORDSWORTH I did not come to appreciate the poetry of Wordsworth in my school days, it happened in college, and to a large extent thanks to Professor Manmohan Ghose. In our school days, the mind and heart of Bengali students were saturated with the poetry of Tagore: In the bower of my youth the love-bird sings, Wake up, O darling, wake; Opening thy lids lazy with love, Wake up, O darling, wake... This poetry belongs to the type once characterised as follows by our humorous novelist Prabhat Mukherji through one of his characters, a sādhu, describing the charms of the Divine Name: It has the sweetness and t

TWO MYSTIC POEMS IN MODERN FRENCH Here is the first poem, I give only the text, followed by an explanatory paraphrase. (I) Chanson Des Étages Il fait jour chez la reine. C'est la nuit près du roi. Déjà chante la reine. A peine dort le roi. Les ombres qui l'enchaînent, Une à une, il les voit. Le regard de la reine Ne s'y attache pas. Le destin qui les mène, Dont frissonne le roi, Ne trouble point la reine. Brillent la mer au bas, Et, rythme de ses veines, Celle qui la brûla, Sæur de la vague même. Ô minutes sereines, Vous n'êtes plus au roi!

THE SHAKESPEAREAN WORD The Vedic rishi, says the poet, by his poetic power, brings out forms, beautiful forms in the high heaven. In this respect, Shakespeare is incomparable. He has through his words painted pictures, glowing living pictures of undying beauty. Indeed all poets do this, each in his own way. To create beautiful concrete images that stand vivid before the mind's eye is the natural genius of a poet. Here is a familiar picture, simple and effective, of a material vision: Cold blows the blast across the moor The sleet drives hissing in the wind, Yon toilsome mountain lies before, A dreary treeles

BORIS PASTERNAK The portrait of the late poet (for he is more of a poet than a novelist, as has been pointed out) on the cover of the British edition of his novel Dr. Zhivago seems to be the very image of the tragic hero. Indeed he reminds one of Hamlet as he stood on the ramparts of the castle of Elsinor. Curiously, the very first poem in the collection at the end of that book is entitled "Hamlet" and the significant cry rings out of it: Abba, Father, if it be possible Let this cup pass from me. Here is a sensitive soul thrown into a world where one has to draw one's breath in pain. Even like the Son of Man, the exemplar and prototy

JULES SUPERVIELLE Jules Supervielle is a French poet and a modem French poet. He belongs to this century and died only a few years ago. Although he wrote in French, he came of a Spanish colonist family settled in South America (Montevideo). He came to France early in life and was educated there. He lived in France but maintained his relation with his mother-country. His poetry is very characteristic and adds almost a new vein to the spirit and manner of French poetry. He has bypassed the rational and emotional tradition of his adopted country, brought in a mystic way of vision characteristic of the East. This mysticism is not however the normal spiritua

TWO MYSTIC POEMS IN MODERN BENGALI Here is the first one as I translate it: Baritone1 Let us all move together, one and all, Together into the cavern of the ribs, Raise there a song of discordant sounds— Red and blue and white, kin or alien. Page-70 Listen, the groan plays on: Dreams as if possessed Swing, like bats on branches; Is now the time for the dance? Come, let us all move together, one and all. Let the streams meet in the body, one and all, Yes, let the bones brighten up still more; Let us all go around the fire And scrape and eat