The Old Man With Sheep Poem by mohanan viswambharan Nair

While I was a child, I often saw him roving in a ravine of hills,
With a stick in his hand and hat on his head, looking for cow dung
His coat lagged on the grassy plot, sweeping the dew.
He clambered up to the hilltop, parting the vegetation to a side

Hovering with banal thought on future, he strolled in the vale.
He eked out a living here and there from doing some odd jobs.
What others felt of him, nothing affected him in person
But I liked his adroit sense of humour and wit.

His masters kept him waiting at their doorstep for long
Without compunction, as he was a slave to serve them.
He would kill his time there with a disconcerted look, though
Seemed to have a credo - helping others is good on the Earth

Once I saw him grazing a sheep and climbing up the hill
In the whistling wind, in purring sounds of little flora
I knew he was going to get his sheep inseminated,
From the sheep house of the man of aquiline nose, at the hilltop


The aquiline man, did it, battling against the vicissitudes of life,
As people warned him, it would spread disease soon on others.
Though, they admired the prowess of his assiduous and patent job,
Despised it as iniquitous; started bearing it without reprimand.

Schoolchildren, admired it as the new thing, on their return from school,
Gathered to watch the- Virility contrast to she- moderate need.
Their heaped joy broke the breach of moral, at that time
Poor maiden sheep crumbled down under the male lurid lust.

Once a band of young, being cynics and ruthless watchers,
Brokedown the fence of the man with the aquiline nose, for prying.
Letting out callous words, showing stalactites, he drove them away
Nothing but, it only shattered the placid amenities of the place.

I thought, if our man were there, he would regain the lost peace,
With his spellbound words, and with his serene smile.
Where he is now? Perhaps, wandering here and there in the vale,
Collecting and scattering cow dung for the fertility of other's land.



I heard a story about him and I heard it after my long exile.
This frenzied the storehouse of both good and bad experiences.
Once our man was there, the aquiline was away with his pursuit,
His wife, a stout and short lady welcomed him with a smile.

She was unproven in the art and dexterity of inimitable creation,
As God did it from the mud at the outset of Heaven and Earth.
The man could do nought but gave a perturbed look at his creature.
He abetted her to unleash the animal to douse its mate's heat.

Her creature with ambivalent fallacy hurried down to female sheep
It sniffed feminine back, mulling over it, as it has not decided yet.
The man tempted the stout lady to tickle it limb underneath
A light smile sprout out her lips and she titillated its skin's hunger.

While the male transgressed the bond of decency, to an extent
The modesty of the female, crushed forever further extent
Poor she-sheep looked remorse and, He- sheep groaned as if it said
I never forget the apple of your eyes like a dark grape in the vineyard

A transient glee came over the lady's face like flowers' blooming
She retired to her place in shyness as if it happened to her in real.
The man with sheep went down the hill, pursuing love in the heart.
Nature slowly turned up another page of tedious life.

The people in the valley were attuned to the inimitable rain,
Stayed at their house, but our man was out in the heavy rain
Prolonged starving gifted him gastritis, he now is a known farter
With same vigour wended for cow dung, not embarrassed in rain.


While the Sun tilted its mirth in the blue, Cuckoo sang in the valley.
The valley was awakened from its sleep with yarn, filled mist around
A pair of king crow courting with each other in the house of love
The man went again to the hilltop with another sheep in 'the heat'


This time, the man with the aquiline nose, was there to greet him.
He showed great composure towards him, is a greed for money.
He sheep walked to the female animal swollen with much pride
Neither, sniffed its mate nor mused it's over, but perched its back.





The man ministered the aquiline to prod leisurely its underneath
At the instant, the man of aquiline hit our man on his cheek
He cried out to him, ' Are you the teacher, the nasty to teach my wife'
He showed his baldness underneath, howling out' no hair, no hair'

The man looked at the stout lady who was on the verandah, in dishonour.
The lady with untold reticence rolled down into the room and vanished.
The man with sheep blotted his cheek and slipped downs the hill gently
Time slowly tore its pages of life, and no more mating was recorded.

My village embraced the growth, the tipper came, the hill left
Huge buildings rose in the place where the house of the aquiline man stood
Paddy field under the valley slipped out to new generation industry.
No more known farter like our man, searching cow dung to fertile other's land.






Mohanan. V.Nair