A pig Poem by Alfred Brendel

A pig
a real porker
has recently been phoning me daily
He grunts out his life
wallowing
as it were
in his own swill
There he reclines
holding the phone to his pink ear
stumpy legs in the air
these days even pigs have a private phone
in their sties
trendy farmers attend to their every need
Since yesterday he calls me his chum
I'm chummy back
mindful of the butcher's knife
and the bacon
We're better off though
worms are all that eat us
and we
in return
can explode continents
and play the piano

Translation: Richard Stokes and the author