⁠Savitri: a Legend and a Symbol ⁠by Sri Aurobindo, Book I The Book of Beginnings, Canto 4, The Secret Knowledge, pp. 60-63

0:02 All here, where each thing seems its lonely self, are figures of the soul, transcendent one. Only by him they are. His breath is their life. An unseen presence moulds the oblivious clay. A playmate in the mighty Mother's game, One came upon the dubious whirling globe to hide from her pursuit in force and form a secret spirit in the inconscient sleep. A shapeless energy, a voiceless word. He was here before the elements could emerge, before there was light of mind or life could breathe. Accomplice of her cosmic huge pretence. His semblances, He turns to real shapes and makes a symbol equal with the truth.

0:57 He gives to his timeless thoughts a form and time. He is the substance, he the self of things. She is forged from him, her works of skill and might. She wraps him in the magic of her moods and makes of his myriad truths her countless dreams. The Master of Being has come down to her, an immortal child, born in the fugitive years in objects wrought in the persons she conceives. Dreaming, she chases her idea of him, and catches here a look and there a jest. Ever he repeats in them his ceaseless births.

1:41 He is the Maker in the world He made. He is the vision, and He is the Seer. He is himself the actor and the ACT. He is himself the knower and the known. He is himself, the dreamer and the dream. There are two who are one and play in many worlds in knowledge and ignorance. They have spoken and met, and light and darkness are their eyes. Interchange. Our pleasure and pain are there. Wrestle and embrace our deeds. Our hopes are intimate to their tale. They are married secretly in our thought and life. The universe is an endless masquerade, for nothing here is utterly what it seems.

2:30 It is a dream fact, vision of a truth which but for the dream would not be wholly true. A phenomenon stands out significant against dim backgrounds of eternity. We accept its face and pass by all it means. A part is seen. We take it for the whole. Thus have they made their play with us for roles, author and actor with himself as seen he moves there as the soul, as nature. She here on the earth where we must fill our parts, We know not how shall run the drama's course. Our uttered sentences veil in their thought. Her mighty plan she holds back from our sight. She has concealed her glory and her bliss, and disguised the love and wisdom in her heart.

3:28 Of all the marvel and beauty that are hers only a darkened little we can feel. He too wears a diminished Godhead. Here He has forsaken His omnipotence, His calm He has foregone and Infinity. He knows her only. He has forgotten Himself to her. He abandons all to make her great. He hopes in her to find himself anew Incarnate, wedding his infinity's peace to her creative passions, ecstasy although possessor of the earth and heavens, He leaves to her the cosmic management and watches all the witness of her scene, a supernumerary on her stage. He speaks no words or hides behind the wings. He takes birth in her world, waits on her will, divines her enigmatic gestures, sense the fluctuating chance turns of her mood, works out her meanings.

4:36 She seems not to know and serves her secret purpose in long time. As one too great for him, he worships her. He adores her. As his Regent of desire, he yields to her. As the mover of his will, he burns the incense of his nights and days, offering his life a splendor of sacrifice, a rapt solicitor for her love and grace. His bliss in her to him is his whole world. He grows through her in all his being's powers. He reads by her God's hidden aim in things, or a courtier in her countless retinue, content to be with her and feel her near. He makes the most of the little that she gives, and all she does drapes with his own delight.

5:32 A glance can make his whole day wonderful. A word from her lips with happiness wings the hours he leans on her for all he does and is. He builds on her largeses his proud fortunate days and trails his Peacock plumaged joy of life and sons in the glory of her passing smile in 1000 ways he serves her royal needs. He makes the hours pivot around her will, makes all reflect her whims. All is their play. This whole wide world is only he and she.