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The Goat
 He bleats a rhythm fatal
To the health of our herbs.
A tramp licentious,
His trespass breaks all bounds
Of grazing ethics.
The most urban of cities
Can never banish him.
He is an eternal pedestrian
On the highways and byways
Of our civilisation.
He hungers for the truth of flora
Without any aesthetic taste.
His stile-vaulting ambition
Makes a sahara of all Edens.
He overflows with the milk
Of medicinal kindness,
For he leaves no leaves
Of cordial unchewed.
Mammal moron, we know
You suckled a Mahatma, a Gandhi,
Aren't you the scapegoat
Of that altar-priest
Whose goat
You can never bleat to get?
-By G. Viswanathan
('From An Ampler Ether')
(Appeared in 'Mother India' Sri Aurobindo Ashram, November 1979)
Flat 104, Banashankari Residency,
8th Main, Girinagar 2nd Phase,
Bangalore 560 085.
Phone: (080) 6721125
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