Roasting Over A Slow Fire Poem by Natalya Gorbanevskaya

Roasting Over A Slow Fire



'Don't touch me!' I scream at passers-by -
they do not even notice me.
Cursing the rooms of other people,
I hang about their anterooms.

But who will knock a window through?
Who will hold out his hand to me?
I am roasting over a slow fire.

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