⁠Savitri: a Legend and a Symbol⁠ by Sri Aurobindo, Book I The Book of Beginnings, Canto 4 The Secret Knowledge pp. 66-69

0:01 The master of existence lurks in US, and plays at hide and seek with his own force in nature's instrument. Loiters, secret God, the Imminent lives in man, as in his house, He has made the universe his pastimes field, a vast gymnasium of his works of might. All knowing he accepts our darkened state, Divine where shapes of animal or man eternal, He assents to fate and time. Immortal dallies with mortality.

0:41 The all conscious ventured into ignorance, the all blissful bore to be insensible Incarnate in a world of strife and pain. He puts on joy and sorrow like a robe, and drinks experience like a strengthening wine. He whose transcendence rules the pregnant vasts prescient, now dwells in our subliminal depths. A luminous individual power alone, the absolute, the perfect, the alone, has called out of the silence his mute force. Where she lay in the featureless and formless hush, guarding from time by her immobile sleep the ineffable poescence of his solitude, the Absolute, the perfect, the alone, has entered with his silence into space.

1:41 He has fashioned these countless persons of oneself. He has built a million figures of his power. He lives in all who lived in his vast alone. Space is Himself, and time is only He, the Absolute, the perfect, the immune. One who is in us as our secret self, our mask of imperfection, has assumed. He has made this tenement of flesh his own, His image in the human measure. Cast that to His divine measure. We might rise then in a figure of divinity.

2:23 The Maker shall recast us and impose a plan of Godhead on the mortal's mold, lifting our finite minds to His infinite, touching the moment with eternity. This transfiguration is earth due to heaven. A mutual debt binds man to the Supreme His nature we must put on as He put ours. We are sons of God, and must be even as He his human portion we must grow divine. Our life is a paradox, with God for key, but meanwhile all is a shadow cast by a dream. And to the musing and immobile spirit life and himself donned the aspect of a myth, the burden of a long unmeaning tale. For the key is hid, and by the inconscient kept. The secret God beneath the threshold dwells in a body obscuring the immortal spirit, a nameless resident vesting unseen powers with matter shapes and motives beyond thought, and the hazard of an unguessed consequence. An omnipotent, indiscernible influence, he sits unfelt by the form in which he lives and veils his knowledge by the groping mind.

3:52 A wanderer in a world his thoughts have made, he turns in a cheer, a scurrow of error and truth, to find a wisdom that on high is his as one. Forgetting, he searches for himself as if he had lost an inner light. He seeks as a sojourner, lingering amid alien scenes. He journeys to a home. He knows no more, his own self's truth. He seeks who is the truth. He is the player who became the play. He is the thinker who became the thought. He is the many who was the silent one.

4:32 In the symbol figures of the Cosmic Force, and in her living and inanimate signs, and in her complex tracery of events, he explores the ceaseless miracle of himself till the thousandfold enigma has been solved in the single light of an all witnessing soul. This was his compact with his mighty mate for love of her, and joined to her forever to follow the course of time's eternity. Amid magic dramas of her sudden moods and the surprises of her masked idea and the vicissitudes of her vast Caprice, 2 seem his goals.

5:19 Yet ever are they one and gaze at each other over born less. Time, spirit and matter are their end and source. A seeker of hidden meanings in life's forms, of the Great Mother's wide uncharted will and the rude enigma of her terrestrial ways, he is the explorer and the mariner on a secret inner ocean without born. He is the adventurer and cosmologist of a magic earth's obscure geography in her material orders fixed design. We're all seem sure, and even when changed the same, even though the end is left forever unknown and ever unstable is life's shifting flow.

6:09 His paths are found for him by silent fate as stations in the ages. Weltering flood, firm lands appear that tempt and stay awhile. Then New Horizons lure the mind's advance. There comes no close to the finite's boundlessness. There is no last certitude in which thought can pause and no terminus to the soul's experience. A limit of farness never wholly reached and unattained. Perfection calls to him from distant boundaries. In the unseen, a long beginning only has been made.