It’s the year twenty-one thirteen,
So much pollution has never been.
I talk especially of the ex-holies’
River of India – The Ganges.
If you are from the past, you cannot imagine,
The state of Ganga, which had pure once been.
It has been infected, infested, fouled and spoiled.
It has become drab and full of crap.
It is no longer crystal clear but has roiled.
In its filthy, grimy, sullied lap,
The most mephitic pathogens are born
There is no earthly way to repose,
All measures to revivify it are otiose,
Nothing can be done – All is lost.