Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A poem for cat lovers ...
Virile lovers and rigorous scholars,
In their fruitful and comfortable years,
Love their strong, sweet cats - their pride -
Who are cool and contained ... much like them.
These comrades of learning and passion,
Seek the frightening quiet of darkness;
Bleakest Erebus would have employed them
As his steeds - if they'd stooped to his service.
As they ponder, they strike noble poses,
Stretched like sphinxes, in deepest aloneness,
Who sleep on in a dream with no ending.
Their athletic loins pulsate with vigour;
And fine little goldenish star-flecks
Glint like sand in their mystical pupils.
— (Loosely) translated by Russell Blackford from the French of Charles Baudelaire [Edited for clarity].