Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, <br />mother dear? <br />The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all <br />wet, and you don't mind it. <br />Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother <br />to come home from school. <br />What has happened to you that you look so strange? <br />Haven't you got a letter from father today? <br />I saw the postman bringing letters in his bag for almost <br />everybody in the town. <br />Only father's letters he keeps to read himself. I am sure the <br />postman is a wicked man. <br />But don't be unhappy about that, mother dear. <br />Tomorrow is market day in the next village. You ask your maid <br />to buy some pens and papers. <br />I myself will write all father's letters; you will not find <br />a single mistake. <br />I shall write from A right up to K. <br />But, mother, why do you smile? <br />You don't believe that I can write as nicely as father does! <br />But I shall rule my paper carefully, and write all the letters <br />beautifully big. <br />When I finish my writing do you think I shall be so foolish <br />as father and drop it into the horrid postman's bag? <br />I shall bring it to you myself without waiting, and letter by <br />letter help you to read my writing. <br />I know the postman does not like to give you the really nice <br />letters.<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wicked-postman-2/
