Author: Robin Flower

Cited by

• Nancy Kress (1)
  • IN: The Islands of the Blessed (None) NULL, American
    EPIGRAPH: 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 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 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 tasks 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.
    FROM: Pangur Ban, Written by an unknown eighth-century Irish monk in the margins of a manuscript, when he was supposed to be copying the Bible, Translated by Robin Flower in The Irish Tradition, Oxford University Press, London, 1947, (1947), Poem, Ireland