Sunday Poetry - Pangur Bán

I love this poem which combines books & cats. It's Pangur Bán, a poem written by an Irish monk in the 9th century. It was discovered written on a manuscript & celebrates the life of a scholar monk & his cat, Pangur Bán. I came across this poem again recently at a website called Interesting Literature, in a post about 10 classic poems about cats. I've signed up for the regular emails from the site which highlights interesting facts about a writer or a poem. This translation of  Pangur Bán is by Eavan Boland.

Myself and Pangur, cat and sage
Go each about our business;
I harass my beloved page,
He his mouse.

Fame comes second to the peace
Of study, a still day
Unenvying, Pangur's choice
Is child's play.

Neither bored, both hone
At home a separate skill
Moving after hours alone
To the kill

When at last his net wraps
After a sly fight
Around a mouse; mine traps
Sudden insight.

On my cell wall here,
His sight fixes, burning,
Searching; my old eyes peer
At new learning,

And his delight when his claws
Close on his prey
Equals mine when sudden clues
Light my way.

So we find by degrees
Peace in solitude,
Both of us, solitaries,
Have each the trade

He loves: Pangur, never idle
Day or night
Hunts mice; I hunt each riddle
From dark to light.