wondering up foggy path
on way through rusty gate
hearing a solemn noise
thinking about my fate
opening up letter parcel
letters swoop to the floor
hello was the soul bellow
seeing lone face at door
scurrying gathering letters
ramming them into my sack
shouting how do you do
praying i wont come back
not easy being a postman
threatened with shotgun
particularity at a mansion
with twelve bore up me bum
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem