Book Eight

Savitri In-Between

Book Eight: The Book of Death

Canto III: Death in the Forest

Here on the emerald edge of the vast woods
In the iron ring of the enormous peaks
Under the blue rifts of the forest sky

Love in her bosom hurt with jagged edges
Of anguish …

Her life was now in seconds, not in hours
And every moment she economised
Like a pale merchant leaned above his store
The miser of his poor remaining gold

She like a pantheress leaped upon his words

The violent and hungry hounds of pain
Travelled through his body biting as they passed

Such agony rends me as the tree must feel
When it is sundered and must lose its life

… She sought
His mouth still with her living mouth, as if
She could persuade his soul back with her kiss
Then grew aware they were no more alone
Something had come there conscious, vast and dire

Book Nine

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