Author Topic: Pangur Ban  (Read 373 times)

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Offline The Barbarian

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Pangur Ban
« on: Sat Jul 07, 2018 - 12:54:18 »
This ninth century poem by an Irish Monk describes himself busy at translating and scribing Christian literature and commentary, while his cat keeps the cell clear of mice.   As the lights go out throughout Christendom, the monk and his fellows maintain and preserve civilization.   

 I and 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 and 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 and 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 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 gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our task we ply,
Pangur Ban, 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;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.

Translation from old Irish by Robin Flowers
« Last Edit: Sat Jul 07, 2018 - 12:56:55 by The Barbarian »

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Pangur Ban
« on: Sat Jul 07, 2018 - 12:54:18 »