rodin's cat sleeps contentely
amid the singing hammer blows
and dusty rubble of the atelier
but at night he awakens
his topaz eyes gleaming in the gloom &
creeps outside to prowl
among the grotesqueries that
writhe in endless agony
beneath the pale blue moonlight
there in rodin's night-haunted garden
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am reading this after having enjoyed van gogh's cat. What a great idea to reflect on artist's lives through feline eyes.