Whether the night haunts him or as a mask hides him,
No matter, he knows where prey and fear lie in wait.
Poacher whose skill daylight disregards as base cheat,
But whose widened pupils know not of our chasm.
Begotten by chaos to dwell in fields of fright,
He's used to vertigo and aware of its rights.
Across our obsessive fear up and down he strides,
Shy king of a dark realm that we're greatly missing.
Gravity is challenged by his weight of darkness
And his scorn turns to ice the blaze that at him beams,
Impassive torment in a sumptuous slowness
Which behind a sound sleep hides the bound, the fondness
For cushions and for roofs and for eaves -and for dreams.
French original: CHAT: LA NUIT Que l'habite la nuit, de la nuit qu'il se grime, Il sait où luit sa proie, où le guette sa peur. Braconnier d'un savoir que le jour dit trompeur, Sa prunelle élargie ignore notre abîme. Enfanté du chaos pour habiter l'effroi, Il en sait le vertige, il en connaît la loi, Et traverse son pas notre hantise, roi Furtif du noir pays dont le regret nous brime. Son poids d'obscurité nargue la pesanteur Et son dédain glace le brasier qui le ronge, Impassible tourment, somptueuse lenteur Qui sous le sommeil clos cèle le bond, hanteur Des coussins et des toits, des berges - et des songes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice piece on cat, nice imagery.10+