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The Great Cat: Poems About Cats
This delightful anthology gives us a teeming litter of literary tributes to the ever-fascinating, ever-mystifying cat.
The feline has inspired poetic adoration since the days of the pharaohs, and the poems collected here cover an astonishing range of periods, cultures, and styles. Poets across the continents and centuries have described the feline family–from kittens to old toms, pussycats to panthers–doing what they do sleeping, prowling, prancing, purring, sleeping some more, and gazing disdainfully at lesser beings like ourselves. Here are Yeats’s Minnaloushe, Christopher Smart’s Jeoffry, Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire Cat, T. S. Eliot’s Rum Tum Tugger, William Blake’s tyger and Rilke’s panther. Here are tributes from Sufi mystics, medieval Chinese poets, and haiku masters of imperial Japan, from Chaucer, Shelley, Borges, Neruda, Dickinson, and Shakespeare. Here are the cats of Mother Goose, and the one who wore the hat for Dr. Seuss.
The Great Cat will delight cat lovers everywhere, celebrating as it does the beauty, the mystery, the gravity, the grace, and, of course, the unassailable superiority of the cat.
The feline has inspired poetic adoration since the days of the pharaohs, and the poems collected here cover an astonishing range of periods, cultures, and styles. Poets across the continents and centuries have described the feline family–from kittens to old toms, pussycats to panthers–doing what they do sleeping, prowling, prancing, purring, sleeping some more, and gazing disdainfully at lesser beings like ourselves. Here are Yeats’s Minnaloushe, Christopher Smart’s Jeoffry, Lewis Carroll’s Cheshire Cat, T. S. Eliot’s Rum Tum Tugger, William Blake’s tyger and Rilke’s panther. Here are tributes from Sufi mystics, medieval Chinese poets, and haiku masters of imperial Japan, from Chaucer, Shelley, Borges, Neruda, Dickinson, and Shakespeare. Here are the cats of Mother Goose, and the one who wore the hat for Dr. Seuss.
The Great Cat will delight cat lovers everywhere, celebrating as it does the beauty, the mystery, the gravity, the grace, and, of course, the unassailable superiority of the cat.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2005
20 people are currently reading
491 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 36 reviews
April 30, 2016
This was actually a really great collection! The selection was really well done, I was very impressed by the editor of this collection for her impeccable taste. The poems are varied and diverse, not only in style but also in origin of language for example which I really appreciated (basically a balance between English writers and the rest of the world, which is not always a thing people seem to care about in these types of books). The majority of the poems I found either funny, moving or beautiful - there were few that left me feeling nothing and so as a whole this was a very good collection for me. Of course part of my enjoyment comes from my love for cats, especially reading about them. So to any cat lover out there - definitely a collection to check out!
November 11, 2020
A collection of poems about cats! It's really what it says haha! They were arranged loosely in themes, which I understood, although at times I wished there was some more information on the writer given (e.g. when they were writing). The poems were all quite nice, but most didn't really jump out to me and seemed to be 'just' about cats (which is nice, but not mindblowing). Which is why I'm giving it 3 stars. Not disappointed, but there was not some grand articulation of all the ways in which cats are great (but, if you're looking for something more like that, I'd definitely recommend William S. Burroughs' "The Cat Inside"!).
January 15, 2024
This was a delight. I don't think I would have thought to pick this up for myself, but my sister Phoebe gave it to me as a gift shortly after welcoming home my new little cat, Frances. I love how poetry can help me slow down and savor the complex beauty of everyday life, and this read was such a fun instance of that.
September 7, 2024
I think I just like cat videos more.
July 20, 2024
personal favorites of the collection:
-the Rat-Catcher and Cats, John Gay
-Five Eyes, Walter de la Mare
-Without Violence, Pattiann Rogers
-Cat in an empty apartment, Wislawa Szymborska
THE CATS OF GREECE
The cats of Greece have
eyes grey as plague.
Their voices are limpid,
all hunger.
As they dodge in the gutters
their bones clack.
Dogs run from them.
In tavernas they sit
at tableside and
watch you eat.
Their moonpale cries
hurl themselves
against your full spoon.
If you touch one gently
it goes crazy.
Its eyes turn up.
It wraps itself
around your ankle
and purrs a rusty millennium,
you liar,
you tourist.
-Marge Piercy
July 16, 2022
accurate title; it's great and it's about cats!!
January 4, 2018
A wonderful little book, for anyone who loves Cats, full of poems to make you smile and laugh, Nice to dip into, and pocket size., what's not to like?
August 9, 2013
I'm a sucker for little books and the only way I really like poetry if it is collected under some sort of theme. Oh, and I like cats. So this book was of interest and I was happy that Paperback Swap sent it my way.
I like it fairly well, despite the preponderance of prose poetry, which is what is responsible for it not getting five stars. Backwards, traditional, hidebound, crochety, dumb ... call me what you will. I like a poem to rhyme or have a particular meter ... otherwise it's just a paragraph broken into nice short sentences scattered about the page.
However, there are a good number of regular poems included here and I like them very well. As well, the Everyman's Library Pocket Poets book is lovely to behold, hold, and to slip into one's purse.
I like it fairly well, despite the preponderance of prose poetry, which is what is responsible for it not getting five stars. Backwards, traditional, hidebound, crochety, dumb ... call me what you will. I like a poem to rhyme or have a particular meter ... otherwise it's just a paragraph broken into nice short sentences scattered about the page.
However, there are a good number of regular poems included here and I like them very well. As well, the Everyman's Library Pocket Poets book is lovely to behold, hold, and to slip into one's purse.
November 8, 2017
This is a cute little anthology. But I am a cat lover so my opinion might be a bit biased.
May 13, 2024
Тут не всі вірші написані англійською початково - є багато перекладних (як-то Бодлер або Чеслав Мілош).
Багато віршів дуже виразно-ритмічні, і нагадують дитячі лічілочки - це здається логічним, бо часто для "дорослих" котики - це "несерйозна" тема. Але направду виглядає, що переважна більшість віршів написані з величезною любовʼю до цих чудових створінь.
Загалом це було дуже затишне читання. Це видавництво має дуже багато антологій на різноманітні теми, і формат упорядкування мені відгукнувся - тому якщо бачитиму в книгарнях щось ще, то скоріш за все придбаю.
Повний відгук: https://t.me/kseniia_reads/287
Багато віршів дуже виразно-ритмічні, і нагадують дитячі лічілочки - це здається логічним, бо часто для "дорослих" котики - це "несерйозна" тема. Але направду виглядає, що переважна більшість віршів написані з величезною любовʼю до цих чудових створінь.
Загалом це було дуже затишне читання. Це видавництво має дуже багато антологій на різноманітні теми, і формат упорядкування мені відгукнувся - тому якщо бачитиму в книгарнях щось ще, то скоріш за все придбаю.
Повний відгук: https://t.me/kseniia_reads/287
December 8, 2017
Firstly, this book is an absolute dream to read. The small format meant that I could carry the book around without feeling weighed down.
The content:
As is always the way with anthologies I definitely enjoyed some poems more than others. However, It felt like there was a real effort to include poetry about cats from across the world, rather than just the western canon, which I really liked. There was also a good mix of more well known poets and author and less known poets.
Most importantly; if you love cats you’ll have a great time reading this collection!
The content:
As is always the way with anthologies I definitely enjoyed some poems more than others. However, It felt like there was a real effort to include poetry about cats from across the world, rather than just the western canon, which I really liked. There was also a good mix of more well known poets and author and less known poets.
Most importantly; if you love cats you’ll have a great time reading this collection!
December 13, 2022
The Cats Of St.Nicholas - George Seferis
But deep inside me sings the Fury's lyreless threnody;
my heart, self-taught, has lost the precious confidence of hope . . .
Aeschylus, "Agamemnon"
'That's the Cape of Cats ahead,' the captain said to me,
pointing through the mist to a low stretch of shore,
the beach deserted; it was Christmas day —
'. . . and there, in the distance to the west, is where
Aphrodite rose out of the waves;
they call the place "Greek's Rock."
Left ten degrees rudder!'
She had Salome's eyes, the cat I lost a year ago;
and old Ramazan, how he would look death square in the eyes,
whole days long in the snow of the East,
under the frozen sun,
days long square in the eyes: the young hearth god.
Don't stop, traveller.
'Left ten degrees rudder,' muttered the helmsman.
. . . my friend, though, might well have stopped,
now between ships,
shut up in a small house with pictures,
searching for windows behind the frames.
The ship's bell struck
like a coin from some vanished city
that brings to mind, as it falls,
alms from another time.
'It's strange,' the captain said.
'That bell — given what day it is —
reminded me of another, the monastery bell.
A monk told me the story,
a half-mad monk, a kind of dreamer.
'It was during the great drought,
forty years without rain,
the whole island devastated,
people died and snakes were born.
This cape had millions of snakes
thick as a man's legs
and full of poison.
In those days the monastery of St Nicholas
was held by the monks of St Basil,
and they couldn't work their fields,
couldn't put their flocks to pasture.
In the end they were saved by the cats they raised.
Every day at dawn a bell would strike
and an army of cats would move into battle.
They'd fight the day long,
until the bell sounded for the evening feed.
Supper done, the bell would sound again
and out they'd go to battle through the night.
They say it was a marvellous sight to see them,
some lame, some blind, others missing
a nose, an ear, their hides in shreds.
So to the sound of four bells a day
months went by, years, season after season.
Wildly obstinate, always wounded,
they annihilated the snakes but in the end disappeared;
they just couldn't take in that much poison.
Like a sunken ship
they left no trace on the surface:
not a miaow, not a bell even.
Steady as you go!
Poor devils, what could they do,
fighting like that day and night, drinking
the poisonous blood of those snakes?
Generations of poison, centuries of poison.'
'Steady as you go,' indifferently echoed the helmsman.
Wednesday, 5 February, 1969
- Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
Greek Original:
Οἱ Γάτες τ᾿ Ἅι-Νικόλα, Γιώργος Σεφέρης
Τὸν δ᾿ ἄνευ λύρας ὅμως ὑμνωδεῖ θρῆνον Ἐρινύος
αὐτοδίδακτος ἔσωθεν θυμός,
οὐ τὸ πᾶν ἔχων ἐλπίδος φίλον θράσος.
ΑΓΑΜΕΜΝΩΝ. 990 ἔπ.
«Φαίνεται ὁ Κάβο-Γάτα...», μοῦ εἶπε ὁ καπετάνιος
δείχνοντας ἕνα χαμηλὸ γιαλὸ μέσα στὸ πούσι
τ᾿ ἄδειο ἀκρογιάλι ἀνήμερα Χριστούγεννα,
«... καὶ κατὰ τὸν Πουνέντε ἀλάργα τὸ κύμα γέννησε τὴν Ἀφροδίτη
λένε τὸν τόπο Πέτρα τοῦ Ρωμιοῦ.
Τρία καρτίνια ἀριστερά!»
Εἶχε τὰ μάτια τῆς Σαλώμης ἡ γάτα ποὺ ἔχασα τὸν ἄλλο χρόνο
κι ὁ Ραμαζὰν πῶς κοίταζε κατάματα τὸ θάνατο,
μέρες ὁλόκληρες μέσα στὸ χιόνι τῆς Ἀνατολῆς
στὸν παγωμένον ἥλιο
κατάματα μέρες ὁλόκληρες ὁ μικρὸς ἐφέστιος θεός.
Μὴ σταθεῖς ταξιδιώτη.
«Τρία καρτίνια ἀριστερά» μουρμούρισε ὁ τιμονιέρης.
...ἴσως ὁ φίλος μου νὰ κοντοστέκουνταν,
ξέμπαρκος τώρα
κλειστὸς σ᾿ ἕνα μικρὸ σπίτι μὲ εἰκόνες
γυρεύοντας παράθυρα πίσω ἀπ᾿ τὰ κάδρα.
Χτύπησε ἡ καμπάνα τοῦ καραβιοῦ
σὰν τὴ μονέδα πολιτείας ποὺ χάθηκε
κι ἦρθε νὰ ζωντανέψει πέφτοντας
ἀλλοτινὲς ἐλεημοσύνες.
«Παράξενο», ξανάειπε ὁ καπετάνιος.
«Τούτη ἡ καμπάνα-μέρα ποὺ εἶναι-
μοῦ θύμισε τὴν ἄλλη ἐκείνη, τὴ μοναστηρίσια.
Διηγότανε τὴν ἱστορία ἕνας καλόγερος
ἕνας μισότρελος, ἕνας ὀνειροπόλος.
«Τὸν καιρὸ τῆς μεγάλης στέγνιας,
- σαράντα χρόνια ἀναβροχιὰ -
ρημάχτηκε ὅλο τὸ νησὶ
πέθαινε ὁ κό��μος καὶ γεννιοῦνταν φίδια.
Μιλιούνια φίδια τοῦτο τ᾿ ἀκρωτήρι,
χοντρὰ σὰν τὸ ποδάρι ἄνθρωπου
καὶ φαρμακερά.
Τὸ μοναστήρι τ᾿ Ἅι-Νικόλα τὸ εἶχαν τότε
Ἁγιοβασιλεῖτες καλογέροι
κι οὔτε μποροῦσαν νὰ δουλέψουν τὰ χωράφια
κι οὔτε νὰ βγάλουν τὰ κοπάδια στὴ βοσκὴ
τοὺς ἔσωσαν οἱ γάτες ποὺ ἀναθρέφαν.
Τὴν κάθε αὐγὴ χτυποῦσε μία καμπάνα
καὶ ξεκινοῦσαν τσοῦρμο γιὰ τὴ μάχη.
Ὅλη μέρα χτυπιοῦνταν ὡς τὴν ὥρα
ποῦ σήμαιναν τὸ βραδινὸ ταγίνι.
Ἀπόδειπνα πάλι ἡ καμπάνα
καὶ βγαῖναν γιὰ τὸν πόλεμο τῆς νύχτας.
Ἤτανε θαῦμα νὰ τὶς βλέπεις, λένε,
ἄλλη κουτσή, κι ἄλλη στραβή, τὴν ἄλλη
χωρὶς μύτη, χωρὶς αὐτί, προβιὰ κουρέλι.
Ἔτσι μὲ τέσσερεις καμπάνες τὴν ἡμέρα
πέρασαν μῆνες, χρόνια, καιροὶ κι ἄλλοι καιροί.
Ἄγρια πεισματικὲς καὶ πάντα λαβωμένες
ξολόθρεψαν τὰ φίδια μὰ στὸ τέλος
χαθήκανε, δὲν ἄντεξαν τόσο φαρμάκι.
Ὡσὰν καράβι καταποντισμένο
τίποτε δὲν ἀφῆσαν στὸν ἀφρὸ
μήτε νιαούρισμα, μήτε καμπάνα.
Γραμμή!
Τί νὰ σοῦ κάνουν οἱ ταλαίπωρες
παλεύοντας καὶ πίνοντας μέρα καὶ νύχτα
τὸ αἷμα τὸ φαρμακερὸ τῶν ἑρπετῶν.
Αἰῶνες φαρμάκι γενιὲς φαρμάκι».
«Γραμμή!
Τί νὰ σοῦ κάνουν οἱ ταλαίπωρες
παλεύοντας καὶ πίνοντας μέρα καὶ νύχτα
τὸ αἷμα τὸ φαρμακερὸ τῶν ἑρπετῶν.
Αἰῶνες φαρμάκι, γενιὲς φαρμάκι».
«Γραμμή!» ἀντιλάλησε ἀδιάφορος ὁ τιμονιέρης.
Τετάρτη, 5 Φεβρουαρίου 1969
But deep inside me sings the Fury's lyreless threnody;
my heart, self-taught, has lost the precious confidence of hope . . .
Aeschylus, "Agamemnon"
'That's the Cape of Cats ahead,' the captain said to me,
pointing through the mist to a low stretch of shore,
the beach deserted; it was Christmas day —
'. . . and there, in the distance to the west, is where
Aphrodite rose out of the waves;
they call the place "Greek's Rock."
Left ten degrees rudder!'
She had Salome's eyes, the cat I lost a year ago;
and old Ramazan, how he would look death square in the eyes,
whole days long in the snow of the East,
under the frozen sun,
days long square in the eyes: the young hearth god.
Don't stop, traveller.
'Left ten degrees rudder,' muttered the helmsman.
. . . my friend, though, might well have stopped,
now between ships,
shut up in a small house with pictures,
searching for windows behind the frames.
The ship's bell struck
like a coin from some vanished city
that brings to mind, as it falls,
alms from another time.
'It's strange,' the captain said.
'That bell — given what day it is —
reminded me of another, the monastery bell.
A monk told me the story,
a half-mad monk, a kind of dreamer.
'It was during the great drought,
forty years without rain,
the whole island devastated,
people died and snakes were born.
This cape had millions of snakes
thick as a man's legs
and full of poison.
In those days the monastery of St Nicholas
was held by the monks of St Basil,
and they couldn't work their fields,
couldn't put their flocks to pasture.
In the end they were saved by the cats they raised.
Every day at dawn a bell would strike
and an army of cats would move into battle.
They'd fight the day long,
until the bell sounded for the evening feed.
Supper done, the bell would sound again
and out they'd go to battle through the night.
They say it was a marvellous sight to see them,
some lame, some blind, others missing
a nose, an ear, their hides in shreds.
So to the sound of four bells a day
months went by, years, season after season.
Wildly obstinate, always wounded,
they annihilated the snakes but in the end disappeared;
they just couldn't take in that much poison.
Like a sunken ship
they left no trace on the surface:
not a miaow, not a bell even.
Steady as you go!
Poor devils, what could they do,
fighting like that day and night, drinking
the poisonous blood of those snakes?
Generations of poison, centuries of poison.'
'Steady as you go,' indifferently echoed the helmsman.
Wednesday, 5 February, 1969
- Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
Greek Original:
Οἱ Γάτες τ᾿ Ἅι-Νικόλα, Γιώργος Σεφέρης
Τὸν δ᾿ ἄνευ λύρας ὅμως ὑμνωδεῖ θρῆνον Ἐρινύος
αὐτοδίδακτος ἔσωθεν θυμός,
οὐ τὸ πᾶν ἔχων ἐλπίδος φίλον θράσος.
ΑΓΑΜΕΜΝΩΝ. 990 ἔπ.
«Φαίνεται ὁ Κάβο-Γάτα...», μοῦ εἶπε ὁ καπετάνιος
δείχνοντας ἕνα χαμηλὸ γιαλὸ μέσα στὸ πούσι
τ᾿ ἄδειο ἀκρογιάλι ἀνήμερα Χριστούγεννα,
«... καὶ κατὰ τὸν Πουνέντε ἀλάργα τὸ κύμα γέννησε τὴν Ἀφροδίτη
λένε τὸν τόπο Πέτρα τοῦ Ρωμιοῦ.
Τρία καρτίνια ἀριστερά!»
Εἶχε τὰ μάτια τῆς Σαλώμης ἡ γάτα ποὺ ἔχασα τὸν ἄλλο χρόνο
κι ὁ Ραμαζὰν πῶς κοίταζε κατάματα τὸ θάνατο,
μέρες ὁλόκληρες μέσα στὸ χιόνι τῆς Ἀνατολῆς
στὸν παγωμένον ἥλιο
κατάματα μέρες ὁλόκληρες ὁ μικρὸς ἐφέστιος θεός.
Μὴ σταθεῖς ταξιδιώτη.
«Τρία καρτίνια ἀριστερά» μουρμούρισε ὁ τιμονιέρης.
...ἴσως ὁ φίλος μου νὰ κοντοστέκουνταν,
ξέμπαρκος τώρα
κλειστὸς σ᾿ ἕνα μικρὸ σπίτι μὲ εἰκόνες
γυρεύοντας παράθυρα πίσω ἀπ᾿ τὰ κάδρα.
Χτύπησε ἡ καμπάνα τοῦ καραβιοῦ
σὰν τὴ μονέδα πολιτείας ποὺ χάθηκε
κι ἦρθε νὰ ζωντανέψει πέφτοντας
ἀλλοτινὲς ἐλεημοσύνες.
«Παράξενο», ξανάειπε ὁ καπετάνιος.
«Τούτη ἡ καμπάνα-μέρα ποὺ εἶναι-
μοῦ θύμισε τὴν ἄλλη ἐκείνη, τὴ μοναστηρίσια.
Διηγότανε τὴν ἱστορία ἕνας καλόγερος
ἕνας μισότρελος, ἕνας ὀνειροπόλος.
«Τὸν καιρὸ τῆς μεγάλης στέγνιας,
- σαράντα χρόνια ἀναβροχιὰ -
ρημάχτηκε ὅλο τὸ νησὶ
πέθαινε ὁ κό��μος καὶ γεννιοῦνταν φίδια.
Μιλιούνια φίδια τοῦτο τ᾿ ἀκρωτήρι,
χοντρὰ σὰν τὸ ποδάρι ἄνθρωπου
καὶ φαρμακερά.
Τὸ μοναστήρι τ᾿ Ἅι-Νικόλα τὸ εἶχαν τότε
Ἁγιοβασιλεῖτες καλογέροι
κι οὔτε μποροῦσαν νὰ δουλέψουν τὰ χωράφια
κι οὔτε νὰ βγάλουν τὰ κοπάδια στὴ βοσκὴ
τοὺς ἔσωσαν οἱ γάτες ποὺ ἀναθρέφαν.
Τὴν κάθε αὐγὴ χτυποῦσε μία καμπάνα
καὶ ξεκινοῦσαν τσοῦρμο γιὰ τὴ μάχη.
Ὅλη μέρα χτυπιοῦνταν ὡς τὴν ὥρα
ποῦ σήμαιναν τὸ βραδινὸ ταγίνι.
Ἀπόδειπνα πάλι ἡ καμπάνα
καὶ βγαῖναν γιὰ τὸν πόλεμο τῆς νύχτας.
Ἤτανε θαῦμα νὰ τὶς βλέπεις, λένε,
ἄλλη κουτσή, κι ἄλλη στραβή, τὴν ἄλλη
χωρὶς μύτη, χωρὶς αὐτί, προβιὰ κουρέλι.
Ἔτσι μὲ τέσσερεις καμπάνες τὴν ἡμέρα
πέρασαν μῆνες, χρόνια, καιροὶ κι ἄλλοι καιροί.
Ἄγρια πεισματικὲς καὶ πάντα λαβωμένες
ξολόθρεψαν τὰ φίδια μὰ στὸ τέλος
χαθήκανε, δὲν ἄντεξαν τόσο φαρμάκι.
Ὡσὰν καράβι καταποντισμένο
τίποτε δὲν ἀφῆσαν στὸν ἀφρὸ
μήτε νιαούρισμα, μήτε καμπάνα.
Γραμμή!
Τί νὰ σοῦ κάνουν οἱ ταλαίπωρες
παλεύοντας καὶ πίνοντας μέρα καὶ νύχτα
τὸ αἷμα τὸ φαρμακερὸ τῶν ἑρπετῶν.
Αἰῶνες φαρμάκι γενιὲς φαρμάκι».
«Γραμμή!
Τί νὰ σοῦ κάνουν οἱ ταλαίπωρες
παλεύοντας καὶ πίνοντας μέρα καὶ νύχτα
τὸ αἷμα τὸ φαρμακερὸ τῶν ἑρπετῶν.
Αἰῶνες φαρμάκι, γενιὲς φαρμάκι».
«Γραμμή!» ἀντιλάλησε ἀδιάφορος ὁ τιμονιέρης.
Τετάρτη, 5 Φεβρουαρίου 1969
March 4, 2018
Chosen for POPSUGAR's reading challenge: "a book you borrowed or that was given to you as a gift". The Great Cat was tucked in next to an excellent bottle of champagne from my bff this past Christmas.
I'm a lifelong fan of cats, though as an adult I have never been able to have one (curse you, apartment rules and regulations!) Poetry, on the other hand, has always been an uphill struggle for appreciation. So most of the stars are for the subject. I really liked the way Fragos curated this collection, going from the chapters on "Adoration" and "Beauty" to "The Superior Cat", "The Scorned Cat", "The Old Cat" and finally, "Mourning the Cat", which was of course The Worst™ because who wants to contemplate that?
Probably my favorite piece is from the "Mystery" section, by John L'Heureux, entitled "The Thing About Cats":
I'm a lifelong fan of cats, though as an adult I have never been able to have one (curse you, apartment rules and regulations!) Poetry, on the other hand, has always been an uphill struggle for appreciation. So most of the stars are for the subject. I really liked the way Fragos curated this collection, going from the chapters on "Adoration" and "Beauty" to "The Superior Cat", "The Scorned Cat", "The Old Cat" and finally, "Mourning the Cat", which was of course The Worst™ because who wants to contemplate that?
Probably my favorite piece is from the "Mystery" section, by John L'Heureux, entitled "The Thing About Cats":
Cats hang out with witches quite a lot;
that's not it.
The thing about cats is
they're always looking at you.
Especially when you're asleep.
Some cats pretend they're not looking
until you're not looking.
They are not to be trusted.
Some cats scowl because they're wearing
imitation fur. They feel inferior.
Some other cats look at you straight on
so that you can't drink you drink
or make love
but keep thinking
that cat's looking at me straight on.
But all cats do the same:
they look at you
and you look out
and in.
A cat is not a conscience; I'm not
saying that.
What I'm saying is
why are they looking?
January 25, 2023
Meh...it's a cute little book but even reading a couple of poems about cats in a row gets tiring really quickly. There is only so much these poems can cover...paws, licking, milk, moon eyes, etc. Definitely some good ones in here but I think with this particular subject it's hard to push the boundaries. I just don't know if I enjoy reading poetry as much as I used to.
June 5, 2022
Este es un libro de poemas sobre gatos de autores famosos. Una de dos: Si te parece una idea fantástica, entonces esta recopilación te va a encantar. Si te preguntas por qué existe un libro así, entonces no te molestes. O lo entiendes o no, no hay término medio.
November 2, 2018
I mean, the 3 stars is in the context of a anthology of poems about cats. It's not really that good, though there are a few gems.
November 8, 2018
Enjoyed this, although it felt a bit much to read that much about cats.
January 11, 2019
Rachel hello. This is a secret message to you 💋
August 31, 2019
“Se sei degno del suo amore, un gatto sarà tuo amico, ma mai il tuo schiavo.”
(T. Gautier)
(T. Gautier)
November 17, 2019
So, so cute. Strongly recommend for cat and poetry lovers.
June 16, 2023
My favorite is “This Is My Chair” by Paul Gallico. It begins: "This is my chair. Go away and sit somewhere else." How charming is that?
November 8, 2023
lol just a really cute little book with poems about cats. Literally what more could you want !
December 11, 2023
Genuinely made my heart laugh
January 11, 2024
HOW CAN A BOOK BE SO PERFECT? and the poems are magnificent!
June 16, 2024
装帧挺不错的一本猫诗小集子，按照内容分了大致类别。有一些有意思的诗，但是大部分歌颂可爱/凶狠的诗都有点类似，也没有关于作者和背景的介绍。有点失望吧
May 20, 2025
meow! quite the collection
October 5, 2024
Fanns några guldkorn men majoriteten av dikterna var lite meh
August 9, 2019
This is my cat after I read this book to him:
Oh, dear. An image source error. Sorry.
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Oh, dear. An image source error. Sorry.
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