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is satyuga, son!
And
the vision sunk from, throat to foot in false objects,
taking true as false
is itself kaliyuga, son!
Kali like death
is the abode of unkindness,
is very cruel,
and sat like a bud, a creeper,
is extremely kind,
full of softness.
In the eyes of kali
there deepens always
the darkness of delusion
and
in the eyes of sat
there waves always
the heart of peace.
One's vision is darting after the individuality,
the other's vision
is waking towards the collectivity; one's world is evanescent, the other's is art-permanent.
One's life looks like dead is a lustreless corpse,
Silent Soil: 83