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As if a blue-throated ascetic peered From the stone fastness of his mountain cell Regarding the brief gladness of the days; His vast extended spirit couched behind. A mighty murmur of immense retreat Besieged the ear, a sad and limitless call As of a soul retiring from the world. This was the scene which the ambiguous Mother Had chosen for her brief felicitous hour; Here in this solitude far from the world Her part she began in the world's joy and strife. Here were disclosed to her the mystic courts, The lurking doors of beauty and surprise, The wings that murmur in the golden house, The temple of sweetness and the fiery aisle. A stranger on the sorrowful roads of Time, Immortal under the yoke of death and fate, A sacrificant of the bliss and pain of the spheres, Love in the wilderness met Savitri. End of Canto One 
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