The Savitri-bird brings to us on its rich musical and colourful wings altogether new possibilities, including the possibility of the lilt of the Romantic and the chant of the Classical, they joining together in a soaring or plunging or widening flight in a wide blue horizontal sky. New occult depths full of splendour open out, or wondrous realms of gold start arriving to us, or the deathless Rose and the deathless Flame begin to bring their gifts to our creations. Its aerodynamics takes care of the deep load of the superconscient voice, as much as it provides to the poetic utterance psychic and sweet spiritual verities. In the process, one expression enters into the worlds of love and charm and joy, and the other climbs to luminous transcendences of truth and light and power and delight. Has it not happened for the first time in poetry on such a sustained level? Kalidasa would have both, but rarely in their continued intensities, and the Vedic poetry would go by the charge of the mystic-spiritual than the psychic-lyrical.


The presentation of the transcendental Savitri is undoubtedly unparalleled in any depiction. We have great classical invocations of the divine Shakti as in the Chandi Mahatmya, or in the enchantment of Dante’s Vision of Beatrice, or in the Bhakti or Sufi utterances in another genre of portrayal, or invitations to the Muse at the beginning of some of the epics. But fusion, or at least a combination, of the psycho-lyrical and the mystico-spiritual is absent in them. Let us have a few examples.


Shelley’s Epipsychidion presenting Emilia Viviani is practically a passionate rush of the emotional, though sometimes touched or uplifted by the mystical; it has no luminosity of the dense spiritual. For the poet she is no mere symbol; “her womanhood and her beauty are real; but beauty more universal and enduring than her own is gathered up in her, as light in the sun, and this ideal value, though the emphasis fluctuates, is never absent from Shelley’s thought.”

 

Seraph of Heaven! Too gentle to be human,

Veiling beneath that radiant form of Woman

All that is insupportable in thee

Of light, and love, and immortality!

Sweet Benediction in the eternal Curse!

Veiled Glory of this lampless Universe!

Thou Moon beyond the clouds! Thou living Form

Among the Dead! Thou Star above the Storm!

Thou Wonder, and thou Beauty, and thou Terror!

Thou Harmony of Nature's art! Thou Mirror

In whom, as in the splendour of the Sun

All shapes look glorious which thou gazest on!

Aye, even the dim words which obscure thee now

Flash, lightning-like, with unaccustomed glow;

I pray thee that thou blot from this sad song

All of its much mortality and wrong,

With those clear drops, which start like sacred dew

From the twin lights thy sweet soul darkens through,

Weeping, till sorrow becomes ecstasy:

Then smile on it, so that it may not die.


…the brightness

Of her divinest presence trembles through

Her limbs, as underneath a cloud of dew

Embodied in the windless Heaven of June

Amid the splendour-winged stars, the Moon

Burns, inextinguishably beautiful:

And from her lips, as from a hyacinth full

Of honey-dew, a liquid murmur drops,

Killing the sense with passion; sweet as stops

Of planetary music heard in trance.

 

There is much beauty in the lines:

 

Veiled Glory of this lampless Universe!

Thou Moon beyond the clouds!...

 

But “Weeping, till sorrow becomes ecstasy” has an intensity of feeling which belongs to another order of expression, giving to that expression almost a mantric poignancy. It becomes pretty nearly mystic-spiritual.


The third line in the following is quintessentially occult with its bright contents:

 

Embodied in the windless Heaven of June

Amid the splendour-winged stars, the Moon

Burns, inextinguishably beautiful.

 

Shelley’s translation of Dante's sonnet for Guido Cavalcanti shows to what heights pure Romantic poetry can soar, and soar with plumes of fire:

 

There was a being who my spirit oft

Met on its visioned wanderings far aloft

As one sandalled with plumes of fire

Sprang towards the lodestar of my desire

 

There was a being who my spirit oft

Met on its visioned wanderings far aloft

Amongst enchanted islands of sunlit lawn

In the clear golden prime of my youth's dawn

 

Dante’s own description of Paradise has an extraordinary sublimity, a sublimity which is at once epic and lyrical. But it is more psychic-religious than mystico-spiritual. Dante is moving along the river that separates Purgatory from Paradise. It is a river in which one washes one’s old mind and gets the divine mind, the River Ennoœ. Even as he moves along, he hears beautiful sweet music. Two damsels make a sign to Dante and he follows them. Soon he is on the other bank of the river. There he has the vision of divine Beatrice, sweet and charming and absorbing. But Dante has to give up his old passion for her. They walk on and enter Paradise, a Paradise of many realms. One of the saints there tells Dante that he is happy in Paradise; he has an experiences that it is in the will of God is all his peace, e’n la sua volontade è nostra pace. That is the mantra which comes from heaven. But Dante’s guide towards the highest heaven of Paradise is St Bernard, and not Beatrice. Dante has the vision of the supreme Lord, supreme Trinity and Virgin Mary, with Beatrice standing by her side. He was moved by love, Love that moves the sun and the other stars.


In Paradiso—Canto XXXIII we meet St Bernard whose prayer to the Virgin Mother is incomparable:

 

Virgin Mother, you are the one who lifted human nature to such nobility that its own Maker did not disdain to be made of its making. Within your womb was lit once more the flame of that love through whose warmth this flower opened to its full bloom in everlasting peace… In you is found whatever good exists in any creature… I pray you also, Queen, for you can do whatever you will, that after he has seen this vision, you keep his affections wholesome. Watch and restrain his human impulses: See Beatrice with so many blessed spirits clasping their hands to join me in this prayer.


The saint tells Dante: “It’s the essence of this existence to hold ourselves within the will of God through which our own wills are made one with His… For in His will is our peace. It is the sea to which all things existing flow, both those His will creates and those that nature makes.”


The conclusion is that “the divine light through the universe so penetrates in measure to its worth that there is nothing to stand in the way.”


In these utterances there is great vision, but the poetry of Savitri has the greatness of rhythm and substance that belong to the vision of the sheer transcendent, they all coming from the home of truth to which the yogi-poet has free access, he in fact being a resident of that home, an impression which one does not get in the other examples,