THE MOTHER'S

PRAYER

TO THE MATERIAL ENVELOPE OF

SRI AUROBINDO

To THEE who hast been the material envelop of our Master, to THEE our infinite gratitude. Before THEE who hast done so much for us, who hast worked, struggled, suffered, hoped, endured so much, before THEE who hast willed all, attempted all, prepared, achieved all for us, before THEE we bow down and implore that we may never forget, even for a moment, all we owe

to THEE.

December 9,1950 THE MOTHER

Tributes

"For thou hast conquered, at the journey's end,
"The Sun-elixir to quell the hordes of Night.
"Who once have seen thy Face have known, 0 Friend:

"'Tis not a myth that Love is one with Light."

"This is the Aurobindonian Gospel according to Dilip — St. John. It is an indispensable book to all admirers of Sri Aurobindo and his works."

— K.R.S. IYENGAR

INVOCATION TO SRI AUROBINDO

Knowing thee once, do we not know the Truth
However fragmentary? For though we may
Still fail to glimpse thy New Dawn which can soothe
Our famished eyes with His unsullied Day,

Yet once thou makest our halflit consciousness
Reverberate thy fire-thrilled melody,
Will not its rapture lead us to His Grace
Resolving our discord with thy harmony?

When in the labyrinthine thrall of Fate
We grope for a Ray, thy marvel blessing alone
Heals dusk with thy moon-song inviolate
Our dark-enamoured moods, alas, disown!

Outsoaring our science-fostered strife and din

Thou wingst the blue — no dragons make thee quail.

Thou hast attained what only the elect win:

Lone zenith-vision no clouds can countervail.

For thou hast conquered, at the journey's end

The Sun-elixir to quell the hordes of Night.

Who once have seen thy Face have known, 0 Friend:

'Tis not a myth that Love is one with Light.

D. K. R..

Dilip,

Here is a poem I wrote for you last night. I am sending you

now only eight lines:

All eye has seen and all the ear has heard

Is a pale illusion by some greater voice

And mightier vision; no sweet sound or word,

No passion of hues that make the heart rejoice

Can equal these diviner ecstasies.

A Mind beyond our mind has sole the ken

Of those yet unimagined harmonies,

The fate and privilege of unborn men.

(This beautiful poem he expanded afterwards into a sonnet:

LAST POEMS, p. 45):

There is a godhead of unrealised things

To which Time's splendid gains are hoarded dross;

A cry seems near, a rustle of silver wings

Calling to heavenly joy by earthly loss.

All eye has seen and all the ear has heard

Is a pale illusion by some greater voice

And mightier vision; no sweet sound or word,

No passion of hues that make the heart rejoice

Can equal these diviner ecstasies.

A Mind beyond our mind has sole the ken

Of those yet unimagined harmonies,

The fate and privilege of unborn men.

As rain-thrashed mire the marvel of the rose,

Earth waits that distant marvel to disclose.

(Extract from a letter written to me on 28.12.34 which came to be regarded later as a momentous prophesy):

"I know with absolute certitude that the Supramental is a truth and its advent is, in the very nature of things, inevitable. The question is as to the when and how. That also is decided and predestined from somewhere above; but it is being fought out amid a rather grim clash of conflicting forces."