Collected Poems - Sri Aurobindo Ashram

658 Pondicherry, c. 1927 – 1947
Surrealist
I heard a foghorn shouting at a sheep,
And oh the sweet sound made me laugh and weep
But ah, the sheep was on the hither shore
Of the little less and the ever-never more.
I sprang on its back; it jumped into the sea.
I was near to the edges of eternity.
Then suddenly the foghorn blared again.
There was no sheep — it had perished of ear pain.
I took a boat and steered to the Afar
Hoping to colonise the polar star.
But in the boat there was a dangerous goose
Whom some eternal idiot had let loose.
To this wild animal I said not “Bo!”
But it was not because I did not know.
Full soon I was on shore with dreadful squeals
And the fierce biped cackling at my heels.
Alarmed I ran into a lion’s den
And after me ran three thousand armoured men.
The lion bolted through his own back door
And set up a morose dissatisfied roar.
At this my courage rose; I grew quite brave
And shoved myself into a tiger’s cave.
The tiger snarled; I thought it best instead
To don my pyjamas and go to bed.
But the tiger had a strained objecting face,
So I turned my eyes away from his grimace.
At night the beast began my back to claw
And growled out that I was his brother-in-law.
I rose and thought it best to go away
To a doctor’s house: besides ’twas nearly day.
The doctor shook his head and cried “For a back
Pepper and salt are the remedy, alack.”
But I objected to his condiments
And thought the doctor had but little sense.
Then I returned to my own little cot