Water

In autumn I make my way to the forest edge, I make my way to the edge, I'll get soaked through — no trouble. I know how good and pleasant it is when water drips gently from the leaves onto your head. How sorry I am for the Berbers who live in the dry deserts, Scorched by the hot sun, … such poor souls you can't even pity — Deprived for their whole lives Of the bright joy of bathing. The commodity monopolies, their plants and factories, Cynically and ruthlessly use up the fresh waters. Clear and transparent, the spring water murmurs, How pleasant to raise a glass of water to your lips and drink. They dump their waste into the water, dooming nature to death, Caring nothing for people, wishing only to get rich. It is time for all humankind to get down to business decisively And to strike the commodity monopolies a crushing blow.