IN EGYPT they worshipped me -- I am the Cat. Because I bend not to the will of man They call me a mystery. When I catch and play with a mouse, They call me cruel, Yet they take animals to keep In parks and zoos, that they may gape at them. Nay, more, they persecute their own human creatures; They shoot, they hang, they torture them, Yet dare to call me cruel. Could they but see themselves As I, the Cat, see them, These human creatures, bereft of all freedom, Who follow in the ruts others made Long ages gone! Who have rings in their noses, Yet know it not. They hate me, the Cat, Because, forsooth, I do not love them. Do they love me? They think all animals are made for their pleasure, To be their slaves. And, while I kill only for my needs, They kill for pleasure, power and gold, And then pretend to a superiority! Why should I love them? I, the Cat, whose ancestors Proudly trod the jungle, Not one ever tamed by man. Ah, do they know That the same immortal hand That gave them breath, gave breath to me? But I alone am free -- I am THE CAT. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BE LIKED BY YOU WOULD BE A CALAMITY by MARIANNE MOORE THE LONELY DEATH by ADELAIDE CRAPSEY THE WAKING YEAR by EMILY DICKINSON DOWN THE MISSISSIPPI: 2. HEAT by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER THE LOCKLESS DOOR by ROBERT FROST KEENAN'S CHARGE by GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP SONG, FR. THE TWO GENTELEM OF VERONA by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE CALLS ON THE HEART by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING GLIMPSES OF CHILDHOOD: 3. THE DOLLS' HOSPITAL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |