I loathe these post nuclear winter days
Of metal-gray sky and stone-dry land,
With piles of garbage scattered on the sidewalks
And cockroaches crawling on the outside walls.
The city sewerage spills rivers of filth and pestilential waste,
I wander with beggars and fight them for a safe place.
I drink contaminated water and breathe dust,
I haven’t seen anything green since October last
The world is sealed over us and its heavy lid
Will not open until spring.