From its blond and brown fur

A perfume comes out so sweet that one evening

I was embalmed by it, to have it

Caressed once, just once.

It is the familiar spirit of the place;

He judges, he presides, he inspires

All things in his empire;

Maybe he's a fairy, maybe he's a god?

When my eyes, towards this cat that I love

Pulled as by a magnet,

Turn around obediently

And I look within myself,

I see with astonishment

The fire of his pale pupils,

Clear lanterns, living opals,

Who stare at me fixedly.