this is a translation of a ninth century Irish poem. The Scholar and his Cat _________________________- I and Pangur Bawn my cat, Tis a little 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 and pen, Pangur bears me no ill will , He too plies his simple skill. Tis a merry thing to see At our tasks how glad are we, When at home we sit and find Entertainment to our mind. Oftentimes a mouse will stray In the hero Pangurs way: Oftentimes my keen thought set Takes a meaning in its net. Gainst the wall he sets his eye Full and fierce and sharp and 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 what gladness do I prove When I solve the doubts i love. So in peace our tasks we ply, Pangur Bawn , my cat and I In our arts we find our bliss, I have mine and he has his. Practice every day has made Pangur perfect in his trade, Iget wisdom day and night, Turning darkness into light 8) Bugs
I loved that poem Bugs. I agree with the poet's sentiment (who is the poet by the way?). We all find the greatest pleasure in the arts which interest us most. Whether it's music, reading or writing posts here )) we all know the magic feeling that comes with them.
who was the poet ? someone called An Onymus Its over 1000 years old and was translated by Robin Flower . for Frank Q. Bawn is spelt ba(fada)n is there a fada on the keyboard? Bugs p.s I m not sure but i think there is a restaurant in Letterfrack called Pangur bawns.[/quote]
