When Noah built this ark of mine

He promised it would be divine.

According to all specifications

This boat would float

through generations.

Floods – an unknown factor here

When droughts were prevalent, I fear.

And so we dwelt here day by day

And thought,

“there’s plenty time for play”

With cats and dogs, tortoises and worms

And birds and children coming to terms.

We sailed quite blithely through

the years

Until there rained down copious tears.

The heavens cried:

“This is a warning –

The Iriyah* won’t wait ‘till morning.”

We pleaded “We’ve no money now

And to get it, don’t know how.”

We’re old like Noah who had this built

And we are anchored to the hilt.

“It’s now the year two-00-eight

To fix this place up is too late”

“Oh no,” the Iriya* did announce

“If you don’t renovate, we will pounce.

Your problems are not our concern

It’s time that these things

you should learn

We’re warning you to toe the line

For Tel Aviv’s centenary

Two thousand and nine.”

*The Iriya (Hebrew)  means municipality in English.