From the Everyman’s Poetry translation by Laurence Lerner
Lovers and scholars, the ardent and the prim,
As they grow older, ripen: and love cats,
Those gentle household gods, those powerful pets,
Afraid of draughts, and sedentary, like them.
If only one could break their pride, how well
These voluptuary lovers of the dark
Who seek out silent corners where fears lurk
Would serve to draw the chariots of Hell.
Look at them dreaming: how that attitude
Suggests the Sphinx, which also dreams, and lies
Stretched out upon the sands in solitude.
Their fecund loins house magic powers; and see!
Like grains of sand that glint elusively,
The specks of gold inhabiting their eyes.