My first try at a translation of “Pangur Ban”. A 9th century cat poem, written in Old Irish by an anonymous Irish monk and scholar.<\/p>\n
PANGUR BAN<\/strong><\/p>\n I and my white Pangur Ban, I want only quiet with my open book, He gladly flicks his tail and I my tales, In stoic Pangur’s path one will stray, His sharp eyes can pierce all my walls, A power of joy is in his swiftest move, Pangur and I are always like this, He is made perfect, master of his trade, My first try at a translation of “Pangur Ban”. A 9th century cat poem, written in Old Irish by an anonymous Irish monk and scholar. PANGUR BAN I and my white Pangur Ban, Are a man and a cat each to his own, He preens to pounce on a granary mouse, I leap on some […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11841","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11841","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11841"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11841\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11841"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11841"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jurn.link\/spyders\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11841"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nAre a man and a cat each to his own,
\nHe preens to pounce on a granary mouse,
\nI leap on some lost word on loan.<\/p>\n
\nThus I seek no fame from my pen,
\nEven my Pangur gives me no look,
\nAs he guards a miscreant’s den.<\/p>\n
\nAll alone in our silent chamber,
\nFinding endless sport which never pales,
\nhunting always the errant stranger.<\/p>\n
\nThen heroic struggles, valour and death!
\nFor my part, I too will pounce and slay
\nSome difficult crux with rolling breath.<\/p>\n
\nOr roundly compass the floating mote,
\nThough my own age-dimmed sight appals,
\nIn the light of distant ages I lift and float.<\/p>\n
\nHis sharpest claw darting down and out!
\nI too am swift to joyous pen, when I prove
\nSome dearly-loved and devilish doubt.<\/p>\n
\nNeither of us troubles the other,
\nEach of us starts to play at his own art,
\nThen finds his finish full of bliss.<\/p>\n
\nDay and night he works and schemes,
\nI perform my own work, even in dreams,
\nMarking wisdom in what man has made.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"