Tom is 9
going on 10
& pens
' a few little verses
about the sadness
of having to
start school
again
every Monday morning.'
Already young
Master Eliot
can see
THE WASTELAND
spreading out
before him.
'Monday is the cruellest day
breeding Mathematics
out of the deadened brain! '
'Damn...damn it...damn ya! '
'Language Thomas...language! '
'Shhhhh...Tom...shushhhh! '
I comfort him.
'Shanti...shanti...shanti.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem