Pangúr Bán is a famous poem composed
by an Irish monk during the 9th century. In the poem, the unnamed monk compares
his work with that of his cat, Pangúr Bán. The original text is now preserved
in the Reichnenau Primer, St. Paul’s Abbey in the Lavanttal of Austria. The text
below is the Robin Flower translation. I post this poem as a memorium to my own
pets, Grimalkin (the ginger male) and Cleopatra (the white female).
I and Pangúr Bán my cat,
‘Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all
night.
Better far than praise of men
‘Tis to sit with book and
pen;
Pangúr bears me no ill-will,
He too plies his simple
skill.
‘Tis a merry task to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.
Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangúr’s way;
Oftentimes my keen thought
set
Takes a meaning in its net.
‘Gainst the wall he sets his
eye
Full and fierce and sharp and
sly;
‘Gainst the wall of knowledge
I
All my little wisdom try.
When a mouse darts from its
den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I
love!
So in peace our task we ply,
Pangúr Bán, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our
bliss,
I have mine and he has his.
Practice every day has made
Pangúr perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.
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