4 April 2020 marks the 110th anniversary of Sri Aurobindo’s arrival in Pondicherry which went on to become the ‘cave’ of His ‘tapasya’. On this special occasion, we are sharing with our readers a fragment of a poem in French written by Sri Aurobindo around 1927. He used alexandrine couplets, the form favoured by classical French writers, but did not observe the convention of alternating masculine and feminine rhymes. The alternative to the beginning of the fourth line was written later than the textual versions. A blank in the last line was left unfilled. The two lines printed here after the asterisk were written on the page of the manuscript facing the page used for the text. Sri Aurobindo wrote this incomplete poem in a notebook He used for the Record of Yoga of 1927. The translation of the poem has been made by Peter Heehs.
With warm regards,
Fragment of a Poem in French by Sri Aurobindo
Sur les grands sommets blancs, astre éteint et brisé,
Seul dans l’immense nuit de son cœur désolé,
L’érémite Amita, l’homme élu par les dieux,
Leva son vaste front  comme un ciel vers les cieux,
Et austère il parla, triste, grave, immuable,
L’homme divin vaincu au Peuple impérissble:
“O vous que vos soleils brillants, purs et lointains
Cachent dans les splendeurs, immortels et hautains,
O fils de l’Infini, rois de la Lumière!
Guerriers resplendissants de la lutte altière!
Nation à la mort divinement rebelle,
Vous qui brisez la loi de la nuit éternelle!
O vous qui appelez à vos sommets ardus
Les pantins de la terre,  tribus!
La vaste Nuit parla aux infinis cachés,
L’amante à ses amants terribles et voilés.
 Ou: “Leur leva son front pur”.
 The line is incomplete.
Upon the great white peaks, a star extinct and broken,
Alone in the heart’s vast night where no word is spoken,
Amit, the eremite, the Chosen, raised his eyes
And with them his vast brow, a sky unto the skies.
Austerely then in tones immutable he spoke,
The vanquished human god to the undying Folk:
“O ye concealed within the glory of your suns
That stainless shine from far proud gods, immortal ones!
O sons of the Infinite, monarchs of the Light,
Resplendent warriors in heaven’s lofty fight,
O nation that revolts divinely against death’s might,
Who shatter the iron law of the eternal night,
O ye who summon to your giant arduous peaks
The puppets of the earth, the tribes… 
Night spoke to the infinities that her vast shade obscures,
A lover to her veiled tremendous paramours.
 The line is incomplete.