The Elegy Devoted To the Earth

People are, constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly While you are listening to them patiently and hopelessly They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves, Their pain, feeling blue, But this elegy is only for you- Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you Today, I saw a dead bird on the road Its death made me see again this horror, It left me to endure humiliation, over and over again- To watch faces, innumerable, impersonal, coarse, covetous faces, Who rush every morning to destroy you Haste, hatred and indifference are jostling down the streets Crazed women are shopping, peeking into shop windows greedily, Throwing away papers and bills on the sidewalk Some men are drinking and smoking in a tavern Cigarette smoke, trivial conversations Erase and kill everything, even love is contaminated By the touch of their dirty fingers Chimneys and cars are turning the air into smelly haze Snarling machines, squeaky sirens Override chirping of birds and children`s laughter Gardens made of plastic bags bloom on the river banks The souls of dead swans are floating on grey lakes, Enclosed by sadness of poets The sea is bleeding, bringing waste back on the sand And you are crying over the man, Who was a long, long time ago, Clad in beauty and who is now dressed in wrecks In your tears, I see the universe and despair of your silver companion You are still spinning noiselessly, Changed, old, wrapped in a shabby veil, Your wrinkles, made of concrete roads and towers Are becoming deeper and deeper, your gowns are worn-out You are still spinning, persistently and compassionately, Going nowhere, into the empty future People are constantly, selfishly numbering their troubles endlessly While you are listening to them, patiently and hopelessly They write elegies describing unrequited love, themselves, Their pain, feeling blue, But this elegy is only for you- Everyone is writing sad poems, and self-centered, too However, my poem is devoted to violence, to violence against you