How neatly a cat sleeps, sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws, and with its unfeeling blood, sleeps
with all the rings-- a series of burnt circles-- which have formed the
odd geology of its sand-coloured tail.
I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a
tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire; and after speaking to
no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.
I have seen how the cat asleep would undulate, how the night flowed
through it like dark water; and at times, it was going to fall or
possibly plunge into the bare deserted snowdrifts. Sometimes it grew
so much in sleep like a tiger's great-grandfather, and would leap in
the darkness over rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of the night, with Episcopal ceremony and your
stone-carved moustache. Take care of all our dreams; control the
obscurity of our slumbering prowess with your relentless heart aand
the great ruff of your tail.
Written by Pablo Neruda [Translated by Alastair Reid]
As you can see above, cats don't always sleep in boxes.
Footnote: Please write to Will and Guy if you have funny
cat nap pictures.
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