Winter Makes the Ants Climb
Winter makes the ants climb
up the legs of churches;
the congress of carp elects
the sleeping spring its king.
When I wish to drink from the spring
I find the water has turned to rock;
only one way to drink:
become the she-bear's lover.
Walking on the road of the hares
on false paws
I know how to give the fever
to the scarlet infants.
trns. by John Ashbery