In the book "Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry" translated by Kuno Meyer (1911) is the poem below about a monk and his cat. It seems that the fascination with all things to do with cats is not just an internet sensation. Centuries before facebook monks were observing and delighting in their pet cats! Enjoy!
THE MONK AND HIS PET CAT
I and my white PangurHave each his special art:His mind is set on hunting mice,Mine is upon my special craft.
I love to rest—better than any fame!—With close study at my little book:White Pangur does not envy me:He loves his childish play.
When in our house we two are all alone—A tale without tedium!We have—sport never-ending!Something to exercise our wit.
At times by feats of derring-doA mouse sticks in his net,While into my net there dropsA difficult problem of hard meaning.
He points his full shining eyeAgainst the fence of the wall:I point my clear though feeble eyeAgainst the keenness of science.
He rejoices with quick leapsWhen in his sharp claw sticks a mouse:I too rejoice when I have graspedA problem difficult and dearly loved.
Though we are thus at all times,Neither hinders the other,Each of us pleased with his own artAmuses himself alone.
He is a master of the workWhich every day he does:While I am at my own workTo bring difficulty to clearness.
Image courtesy of stay2gether at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of stay2gether at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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