I hate it here, the heat, all
year round, even when it rains
that horrible rain, the bugs
the bad water, awful food

the poor people, they are everywhere
the rich people, so pleased
with themselves, and the hustle and bustle

the gaudy clothes, the loud
talking, all the questions and orders
the dirt, the stench and the squatting
to poop, I hate it

money with which you can't buy anything
in shabby shops, stupid entertainment
the films, the dancing, the music

all the accents, the crooked language
and the proper language, which is uncommon
all the cars except American
and those too because they are old models

school, which is a prison
holidays, oh so stiff
even then no time off

old people, children, radio and TV
without reception, and the arguments
about the gods
Only the sea is worthy of me