Tuesday, October 23, 2007

























Cat's Dream


How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings--
a series of burnt circles--
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger's great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail.


Translated by Alastair Reid:


Pablo Neruda

3 comments:

pissed off patricia said...

Since I am terribe with poetry, I have no idea if there is some hidden meaning here or not. I do know that if I watch a cat falling asleep it will make me so sleepy I can't stand it. Nothing looks more comfy than a sleeping feline.

The Cunning Runt said...

Beautiful! Pablo N was just recommended to me by a professor I ran into on Mount Greylock recently...

Funny coincidence!

Sherry Pasquarello said...

yeah, they look comfy but there is a power there even in sleep.

oh i love neruda. anything by him, but " twenty love poems and a song of despair" is magnificent.