There was a Crook who’s into small-time crime
So nimble in theft and pocket picking.
He indulged in this guilty job full time;
It’s how he would carry on his living.
Then a poet named Tongue while at a tree
Called upon him: “Ne’er like this fill your purse;
Be off your track and take to poetry
Or else god on you hurls many a curse.”
So Crook looking into books, made a shift
And began to think a lot on the rhyme;
Good poems of others he’d neatly lift
And win good laurels and prizes of prime.
Who can say a tiger his stripes would change?
How could a goon his basic traits estrange?
[Oct 12,2009: : Greenfield, WI]
So Crook after hearing these words of a poet called Tongue, “Ne’er like this fill your purse; / Be off your track and take to poetry / Or else god on you hurls many a curse.” was touched by them to change his ways became a poet. It is a creative sonnet.
good poems belongs to all...it is never the poet's...if he could identify a good poem..something humane should be with him..i actually thought this was valmiki's story
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dear friend Lakshminarayanan, Here what I meant was that the goon-poet simply pirated or plagiarised the works (final drafts) of others (at knife point) and unduly stole all the limelight for himself. Obviously, he wasn’t transformed to the core of his heart, unlike Valmiki, that noble poet-saint. Thank you. Best regards.