Artur Lundkvist - The ants

are busy conquering the world.
Their soil sinks under the foot
that tramples on ant-tunnels and is immediately attacked.
The ants hollow out walls so that the houses collapse.
They crowd into lamps so that the light is extinguished.
They creep into the orfices of the human body
and ravage them like black fire.
They peer out of portraits through the eyes they have eaten.
They let themselves drop from branches into breast orifices
so that the horses bolt.
In the morning they have settled in shoes
and can only be driven out by powerful jets of water.
They force their way into safes and devour valuable papers.
They attack printing offices and replace the type with ants.
They overrun rails so that the trains are derailed.
They invade cities till bomb shelters are no longer any use.
There is no protection against ant hordes
and nowhere to escape from them.
They die in billions but never feel defeated.
They are more effective than blowtorches.
They grow with their task,
become bigger and more irresistible every day,
armor-clad and armor-eyed
They continue to attack even after their bodies have been
half crushed.
They eat rubber like bread,
drink milk and whiskey without discrimination.
They are as relentless as ice and fire combined.
They triumph over everything
without, perhaps, being even aware of their power.