This deceptively simple poem, written over 1000 years ago by an Irish monk, says so much, & certainly makes me consider inviting a cat into the house.
No mice available there (I hope). Perhaps my Pangur Ban could get her practice & pleasure from chasing spiders instead.
I & Pangur Ban my cat,
‘Tis a like task we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.
Better far than praise of men
‘Tis to sit with book & pen:
Pangur bears me no ill-will,
He too plies his simple skill.
‘Tis a merry task to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit & find
Entertainment to our mind.
Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur’s way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.
‘Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full & fierce & sharp & sly;
‘Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.
When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!
So in peace our task we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat & I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine & he has his.
Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day & night
Turning darkness into light.
