Sunshine

Stirring bliss around a sphere
Making clouds disappear
Yes, that's what the sunshine does

Translator's Note: Dima is pining for the sunshine, which is severely limited this winter. This is a non-traditional haiku; a commercial for the sunshine.

Victorian Cat Poetry

I wandered lonely as a cat
That floats on high o'er vales and hills
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden tabby cats

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert...
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of cats
Look on my whiskers, mice and birds, and despair
I'm the most gifted cat you'll ever see
The cats of old weren't half as bold
And cunningly cute and talented as me."

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though a Rottweiler I'd seen
An odious greasy dog
With shiny fangs and white frothing drool
I seem to feel its cruel jaws
Crunch! Crunch! There go my legs
Snap! Snap! My torso too
My head's in a twain
There goes my brain
Swallow! Swallow! The cat is no more.

Translator's Note: You would think Dima was inspired by the real Victorian poets of William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and John Keats. However his inspiration came while he was sitting on my lap watching an episode of Monty Python's Flying Circus called "Michael Ellis." Below is the sketch that Dima ripped off.

Old English

Fetisly purren
Meows withalle
Statlich catt
Pitous catt
Me thinketh daintee
The catts and kittener
To liven in delit
Was evere his wone

Translator's Note: Dima was investigating the history of the English language and cat language and found that they once belonged to the same linguistic group over 3000 years ago. According to Dima's research cats and humans once spoke the same language in the regions of lower Germany. He also claims that the vikings spoke this language into the modern era.

Mr. Spacecat

Woke up this afternoon with a light in my eyes
And then realized it was snowing outside
Then I saw a new toy on the floor
I didn't know who it was for

Must be that baby that wakes up every night
Those hungry cries have put all the cats uptight
She's got a blue-green saucer that glows in the dark
I hope this will help her sleep all right

Hey, I'm Mr. Spacecat
I'd like to take you along
I won't do anything wrong
Hey, I'm Mr. Spacecat
I'd like to take you along for a ride

After spinning around, I was feeling quite weird
It was what I had feared, my cat food was smeared
All over the window, the baby had written my name
Said, never take a ride in my saucer again

Hey, I'm Mr. Spacecat
I wish I could take you along
But I did something wrong
Hey, I'm Mr. Spacecat
I wish I could take you along for a ride

Translator's Note: I thought it was a bit funny that the cat was inspired by the Byrds. Actually, our baby is too young to take a spin on that saucer. I don't know how she communicated to Dima that he is no longer allowed on it.

The Laws of Claws

Sacred is the word of cats

That it shall not be written

Our fangs our sealed

Our tails swoop low

When it comes to truth

Subtle is the law of cats

That it shall not be shared

Our eyes follow

Our paws pounce

Our claws dig into the meat of the unjust

Translator's Note: Apparently the reason Dima hasn't written a poem for months wasn't that there's a new baby in the house. He recently joined a cat cult where he had to refrain from doing his favorite thing (besides eating and sleeping) for 3 months as an initiation rite. The good news is that they let him in. This poem is evidence of the brainwashing going on. I'm fine as long as the cult doesn't involve murdering one's providers.