You say that father write a lot of books, but what he writes I don't
understand.
He was reading to you all evening, but could you really
make out what he meant?
What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can't father
write like that, I wonder?
Did he never hear from his own mother stories of giants and
fairies and princesses?
Has he forgotten them all?
Often when he gets late for his bath you have to call him
a hundred times.
You wait and keep his dishes warm for him, but he goes on
writing and forgets.
Father always plays at making books.
If ever I go to play in father's room, you come and call me,
"What a naughty child!"
If I make the slightest noise you say, "Don't you see that
father's at his work?"
What's the fun of always writing and writing?
When I take up father's pen or pencil and write upon his book
just as he does,-a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,i,-why do you get cross with me
then, mother?
You never say a word when father writes.
When my father wastes such heaps of paper, mother, you don't
seem to mind at all.
But if I take only one sheet to make a boat with, you say,
"Child, how troublesome you are!"
What do you think of father's spoiling sheets and sheets of
paper with black marks all over both sides?
Notes
(This poem is from 'The Crescent Moon' by Tagore)
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From guest argh (contact)
i need an interpretation of this poem...anybOdy help..? ANY ANalysis upon the symbolism of the child writng something on that paper and that the mother scolded him because of it..? while his father is not really doing such a bad thing..? is there any miscommunication between these two parties...please..help! -
how well he understands the mind of a child and his innocence the questions that a child asks, it shows that inspite of his wisdom and knowledge tagore preserved within his heart the simple innocence of a child. These poems spoken in a child's voice are very endearing
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The spoiled sheets of the poet. Ah yes! those self-inflicted injuries that bleed, that may come to good if only...
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