The Ideal is a Shadow, pp. 618-619

Opening remarks
Death decries every ideal as merely a shadow and in imagination with no footing on ground realities.

Transient breath
A transient Breath thou takest for thy soul,
Born from a gas, a plasm, a sperm, a gene,
A magnified image of man’s mind for God,
A shadow of thyself thrown upon Space.

Death says that the soul is simply a transient breath that ceases with one’s life. But it is born from a gas, a plasm, a sperm and a gene. It is nothing but a magnified image of man’s mind for God, a shadow of man thrown upon Space.

Distorting mirror of Ignorance
Interposed between the upper and nether Void,
Thy consciousness reflects the world around
In the distorting mirror of Ignorance
Or upwards turns to catch imagined stars.

The human consciousness, interposed between the Void above and the Void below, reflects the world in the distorting mirror of Ignorance. Or it turns upwards to catch imagined stars.

Half-Truth
Or if a half-Truth is playing with the earth
Throwing its light on a dark shadowy ground,
It touches only and leaves a luminous smudge.

Or if a half-Truth is playing with the earth throwing its light on a dark shadowy ground, it only touches the surface and leaves a harmonious mark giving the illusion of reality.

Immortality for imperfect man
Immortality thou claimest for thy spirit,
But immortality for imperfect man,
A god who hurts himself at every step,
Would be a cycle of eternal pain.

Death cautions Savitri that she is claiming immortality for imperfect man who is like a god who hurts himself at every step. The boon of immortality for such a humanity would be a cycle of eternal pain.

A posturer on earth-stage
Wisdom and love thou claimest as thy right;
But knowledge in this world is error’s mate,
A brilliant procuress of Nescience,
And human love a posturer on earth-stage
Who imitates with verve a faery dance.

Though Savitri is claiming wisdom and love as her right but knowledge in this world is always mixed with error. It brilliantly procures all from Nescience. Human love is a posturer on earth-stage who imitates a faery dance with great enthusiasm.

Mortal draught
An extract pressed from hard experience,
Man’s knowledge casked in the barrels of Memory
Has the harsh savour of a mortal draught:
A sweet secretion from the erotic glands
Flattering and torturing the burning nerves,
Love is a honey and poison in the breast
Drunk by it as the nectar of the gods.

Man’s knowledge cased in barrels of Memory is an extract gathered from hard experience. It has the harsh savour of a mortal draught. It is a sweet secretion from the erotic glands flattering and torturing the burning nerves. Love is a honey and poison in the breast but drunk by man as the nectar of the gods.

Closing remarks
In various ways Death advances his materialistic view of life claiming all that we consider as high such as knowledge and love and idealism is nothing else but the result of certain chemical and material processes.