ly a cat sleeps,

    sleeps s pas posture,

    sleeps s wicked claws,

    and s unfeeling blood,

    sleeps he rings--

    a series of burnt circles--

    whe odd geology

    of its sand-colored tail.

    I so sleep like a cat,

    ime,

    ongue roug,

    he dry sex of fire;

    and after speaking to no one,

    stretche world,

    over roofs and landscapes,

    e desire

    to  ts in my dreams.

    I  asleep

    e,

    flo like dark er;

    and at times, it o fall

    or possibly plunge into

    ted snos.

    Sometimes it grew so much in sleep

    like a tigers great-grandfather,

    and he darkness over

    rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

    Sleep, sleep cat of t,

    h episcopal ceremony

    and your stone-carved moustache.

    take care of all our dreams;

    control ty

    of our slumbering prowess

    less

    and t ruff of your tail.

    translated by Alastair Reid

    Submitted by Jen