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"To A Cat" - by Jorge Luis Borges

26/6/2012

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Mirrors are not more silent
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that panther
we catch sight of from afar.
By the inexplicable workings of a divine law,
we look for you in vain;
More remote, even, than the Ganges or the setting sun,
yours is the solitude, yours the secret.
Your haunch allows the lingering
caress of my hand. You have accepted,
since that long forgotten past,
the love of the distrustful  hand.
You belong to another time. You are lord
of a place bounded like a  dream.
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    Marisa Livet is the author of this totally unnecessary journal and takes the full responsibility for the nonsense

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