The poet now describes the various stages of Savitri’s waking up on the fateful morning:

At first life grieved not in her burdened breast:
On the lap of earth's original somnolence
Inert, released into forgetfulness
Prone it reposed, unconscious on mind's verge,
Obtuse and tranquil like the stone and star.

At first she is still restful in the sleepy hours of the earth; life in her is still inert, forgetful, stretched out in full repose. Life has not yet come in the mental awareness. It is dull of sensation like the stone and serene like the star. Grief is not yet felt on the surface though the breast carries the load of the impending doom.

In a deep cleft of silence twixt two realms
She lay remote from grief, unsawn by care,
Nothing recalling of the sorrow here.

She is still in a deep belt of silence between the two states of sleep and wakefulness, lying untouched by grief, unscratched by care, unaware of the sorrow in the world.

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