In a metropolis of alleyways and prismatic windowsills,
Strides a polished, purring tabby wtih her head held high.
She summons snickers from all the calicos,
With collars coated in carats of finest cut,
Then glances freshly in their direction,
To which they quickly quiet up.
Oh the joy she gets from flirting her tail,
Under the chins of trusting toms,
And the pain she preens away,
When her man has moved on.
On to other females, other motives, and other times,
And so too does our high-class heroine,
Too familiar with the cliched 'nine lives'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem