A handsome cat, strong, gentle and charming
Prowls along my brain as though in his own home
When he mews, we hardly hear
So tender and discreet is his tone
But whether his voice is mild or vexed,
It is always rich and deep
That is his special talent and his charm

This voice, which pearls and seeps
Down into the depths of my being
Expands in me like a harmonious verse
And delights me like a magic philter
It soothes the cruelest sufferings
And is filled with every ecstacy

It needs no language to capture the deepest meanings
There is no bow that can sweep my heart,
The perfect instrument, more richly drawing song
From even its most sensitive string,
Than your voice, o mysterious, strange cat,
In whom everything, as in an angel,
Is as subtle as it is harmonious

From his blonde and brown fur comes a perfume so sweet
That one night, I was caught in its balm
By having caressed it once, only once
He is the familiar spirit of the house,
Judging, presiding, inspiring all things within his empire
Is he magician or god?
When my eyes are drawn, as by a magnet,
Toward my beloved cat
And I obediently look upon him,
I look into myself,
And I am amazed to see the fire of his pale pupils,
Bright lamps, living opals, hypnotically fixed on me