The Descent of Ahana* AHANA Strayed from the roads of Time, far-couched on the void I have slumbered; Centuries passed me unnoticed, millenniums perished unnumbered. I, Ahana, slept. In the stream of thy sevenfold Ocean, Being, how hast thou laboured without me? Whence was thy motion? Not without me can thy existence be. But I came fleeing;- Vexed was my soul with joys of sound and weary of seeing; Into the deeps of my nature I lapsed, I escaped into slumber. Out of the silence who call me back to the clamour and cumber? Why should I go with you? What hast thou done in return for my labour, World? What wage had my soul when its strength was thy nei

To a Hero-Worshipper I 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’, th

Bibliographical NOTE COLLECTED POEMS, Volume 5 in SRI AUROBINDO BIRTH CENTENARY LIBRARY, contains all the poems included in SONGS TO MYRTILLA- 1895, URVASIE-1896, AHANA AND OTHER POEMS -1915, LOVE AND DEATH -1921, BAJI PRABHOU -1932, SIX POEMS -1934, TRANSFORMATION AND OTHER POEMS -1941, POEMS -1941, COLLECTED POEMS AND PLAYS -1942, POEMS PAST AND PRESENT -1946, LAST POEMS - 1952, and MORE POEMS - 1957; also ILION - 1957. A few other poems found among Sri Aurobindo's papers are published here for the first time. All poems published after 1950 are reproduced from manuscripts exactly in the form found there. Translations and plays, even when in poetic form, are not

Mother India* India, my India, where first human eyes awoke to heavenly light, All Asia's holy place of pilgrimage, great Motherland of might! World-mother, first giver to humankind of philosophy and sacred lore, Knowledge thou gav'st to man. God-love, works, art, religion's opened door. India, my India, who dare call thee a thing for pity's grace today? Mother of wisdom, worship, works, nurse of the spirit's inward ray! To thy race, 0 India, God himself once sang the Song of Songs divine, Upon thy dust Gouranga danced and drank God-love's mysterious wine, Here the Sannyasin Son of Kings lit up compassion's deathless sun, The youthful Yogin, Shankar. taught thy gospel:

The New Creator* You rose in India, 0 glorious in contemplation, 0 Sun; Illuminator of the vast ocean of life. Clarioning the new Path of an unstumbling progression. You have dug up the immense, sombre bedrock of the earth's ignorance, And sought to unite in eternal marriage the devotion of the heart and the Force of life. We bow to you, Sri Aurobindo, 0 Sun of the New Age, Bringer of the New Light! May India, irradiated by your rays, become the Light-house of the world! To the country which, by losing its soul-mission, had lost the rhythm of its life's advance,

FROM GREEK AND LATIN On A Satyr and Sleeping Love* Me whom the purple mead that Bromius owns And girdles rent of amorous girls did please, Now the inspired and curious hand decrees That waked quick life in these quiescent stones,  To yield thee water pure. Thou lest the sleep Yon perilous boy unchain, more softly creep. * Plato Page - 411

Since thou hast called me* Since thou hast called me, see that I Go not from thee, — surrounding me stand. In thy own love's diviner way Make me too love thee without end. My fathomless blackness hast thou cleft With thy infinity of light, Then waken in my mortal voice Thy music of illumined sight. Make me thy eternal journey's mate, Tying my life around thy feet. Let thy own hand my boat unmoor, Sailing the world thy self to meet. Fill full of thee my day and night, Let all my being mingle with thine, And every tremor of my soul Echo thy Flut

Appeal Thy youth is but a noon, of night take heed, — A noon that is a fragment of a day, And the swift eve all sweet things bears away, All sweet things and all bitter, rose and weed. For others’ bliss who lives, he lives indeed. But thou art pitiful and ruth shouldst know. I bid thee trifle not with fatal love, But save our pride and dear one, 0 my dove, And heaven and earth and the nether world below Shall only with thy praises peopled grow. Life is a bliss that cannot long abide, But while thou livest, love. For love the sky I Was founded, earth upheaved from the deep cry O

Farewell Flute* A Flute of farewell calls and calls,       Farewell to earthly things: But when shall I the message learn       That high-voiced music sings ? Earth's pleasures come like scented winds,       Invite a mortal clasp: I seek to keep them in my clutch,       Captives of a vain grasp! How shall thy nectar fill this cup,       Brimming with passion's wine? Only when the turn of day is done       Thy starry lamps can shine, Ever to the eager cry of hope       Re-echoes the heart's lyre, Will it answer to thy Song of songs       That climbs beyond desire ? Arise now in my shadowy soul       And let it

Refuge* 1.   Though thou shouldst not spare me the anguish of the world, yet I have no refuge but thy feet. 0 Lord of the City of the wise begirt by gar-dens full of sweet flowers, if, in a keen-edged wrath, the mother cast off the babe, what can it do but cry for the mother's love? I am like that babe. 2.  If the man whom she loves subject her to contumely, the high-born wife still clings to him; for he is her chosen lord. And I, too, 0 Lord of the City of the wise whose walls reach up to Heaven, I will ever praise thy victorious feet, even if thou shouldst leave me unprotected. 3.  Reject me, 0 Lord, and I will yet hold on to thee, not knowing another prop. 0 Lord of th