[167] Pangur Ban
Proxying for DeMello...
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 task 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 task 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.
-- Anon., (Irish, 8th century)
|
Written by a student of the monastery of Carinthia on a copy of St
Paul's Epistles.
Translated by Robin Flower.
I guess I like this poem more for the context than for the words
themselves... somehow, the image of the apprentice monk, toiling over
his precious manuscripts, while Europe slept through the Dark Ages,
seems particularly poignant. Nothing much more to say.
thomas.
PS. You can find the original Irish text of this poem (and a nice
commentary on the intricacies of translation) at
http://www.ceantar.org/pangur.html
PPS. Our dearly-beloved Martin will be back on Saturday... apparently
there's been a network outage of some sort at Brookhaven [1], so he's
temporarily offline.
[1] Scary thought, innit?
From: "john.kissane1" <john.kissane1@>
You only have to look at other clumsy translations of this poem (e.g. by
Frank O'Connor and Eavan Boland) - literal, prosaic, and frankly boring
- to appreciate how well Robin Flower has captured the charm of the
poem, as well as its music. Robert Frost once famously said that poetry
is what gets lost in the translation. In this translation Robin Flower
managed to hold on to the poetry - it is a rare achievement.
John Kissane
From: "Thompson, Richard" <Richard.Thompson@>
This poem is quoted at Trinity, Dublin alongside the Book of Kells. It is
attributed to a monk living in Switzerland. So who's right?
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From: "B OMeadhra" <bcom@>
In response to Richard Thompson's query:I think there has been
contraction of several elements of the provenance which do not belong
together. As far as I know, an Irish monk somewhere, who could have
been studying abroad in any of several places of learning, including
Switzerland, or could have been at home in Ireland, wrote this poem in
the margins of a manuscript he was copying or reading, and that
manuscript two hundred years later ended up in the Carinthia monastery
library. Or, this poem was copied onto a manuscript in Carinthia by a
monk who is not supposed to be the 8th or 9th Century author.
After all, the monastery of St. Paul's in Carinthia was not founded till
1091. It had a famous and extensive library of manuscripts collected and
copied from far and wide.
B.O Meadhra
From: "Marcia Brim" <marciaharrisbrim@>
Hi,
I am self publishing a small companion study guide for a book of
historical fiction that overviews Western Civilization for 5th to 8th
graders. I would like to include a copy of the Pangur Ban poem in my
study guide. Do you know from whom I could obtain permission to reprint
this poem. I especially like this translation. Thank you for providing
it on the web.
I am actually trying to have my study guide to the printer by next
month, so your prompt reply is much appreciated.
Sincerely,
Marcia Brim
From: Marcus Loidolt <mjloidolt@>
We have only to look at some of the older monasteries
in Switzerland, Austria, Italy and France to find
foundations made by Irish monks in the early middle
and 'dark' ages.
Marcus
====www.geocities.com/mjloidolt/marcus_page.html
"Let Charity be your hallmark and model for all you do,
if it is not loving, don't do it, it it is loving,
let nothing stop you from doing whatever is needed!"
(St. John Neumann)
"Have no fear or doubt anything and everything you give in this life will be paid back ahundred fold in the next"
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From: "robby roberts" <landr@>
I first came cross this poem in a book by Helen Waddell, first published
by Constable in 1927. The poem she produces there, (page57 of the
Fontana Library edition of 1966), has only four stanzas. I wonder
whether there is any acknowldgement of her
translation, considerably earlier than that of Robin Flowers, and why
she did not include stanzas 2, 4, 6 and 8 ?
Curious
Robby