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To Vermin
This morning I salute the weevil, who ruins the most precious grain. I reserve my compliments for the sober larva that does not rest even in the most crystalline waters. And spare no applause for the silverfish, taking their time in books, without ever learning the Latin for life. I honor the cockroach who, in the dim night, gnashes at the old clothes of ordinary people. And before the rat who gnaws at the feet of the people’s table, I bow, respectfully: this resembles the passage of the king who chews up even the dreams and tears of citizens. Woodworm and white ant, to you, vassals of an obscure realm, my congratulations. To rapacious insects, to the plagues that lay waste to crops and livestock, a word of solidarity. And I congratulate the squirrels that nibble the nuts of poetry on the moist ground of Washington, and the hare hidden in the hedge which, sniffed out by hunting dogs, breaks open what autumn conceals. And I offer my respects to the engineer of decay, the earthworm, who swallows man. We must devour the wind and the palace, demolish the structures of rot, change the face of the world. And may the admirable termite, in the sack of corn or among the eaves, correct for the error of men. Translated from the Portuguese