The Story of a King
There was a great king
Who had a minister, wise
The king used to ring
For him for his advice.
Once while they were in parlance
The minister forestalled
That one would get in equivalence
What one had earlier hauled.
Instantly the king slapped him
And said “I’ll see how I’ll get back the slap”—
The minister though astonished to the brim
Didn’t utter a word and retired for his nap.
While passing the boulevard pavement
He slapped the guard standing there and said
That the king had started an amusement
To slap the first person one sees ahead.
The guard went on to slap his friend
Who in turn flourished it on his pal
The amusement thus carried on the trend
And soon the whole city was in thrall.
The kings little son with his pals soon
Joined in the slap merry-making
The festivity came to his father’s bed room
And he slapped his father—the king—laughing.
The aghast king now understood
What his minister had told
When the little prince playing stood
And gave him a slap—so bold!
What to others, you do
Will one day spring back to you.
Comments about this poem (The Story of a King by chandra thiagarajan )
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