You lie around as if you did not care,

And I think you might really not in fact.

Your make-shift bed is now all sprayed with hair;

That hair is grey, but not with time attacked.

Soon on your feet you'll swiftly jump with fear

When he, the giant, comes to you with craft,

But until then you sleep without a tear,

And if awake you might even have laughed.

I often wonder what you think at times

Behind those lids half-closed, behind those eyes.

In times like now your calm inspires rhymes,

Until you wake and gladly claw my thighs.

But as it seems I cannot with you chat,

Because you cannot speak, you are a cat.