Marginal poem written on "Codex S. Pauli," by student of the Monastery of Carinthia, this version based on translations by Whitley Stokes, John Strachan, and Kuno Meyer: THE MONK AND HIS PET CAT I and my white Pangur Each has his special art; His mind is set on hunting mice Mine on my special craft. Better than fame I love to rest With close study of my little book; White Pangur does not envy me, He loves to ply his childish art. When we two are alone in our house It is a tale without tedium; Each of us has games never ending Something to sharpen our wit upon. At times by feats of valor A mouse sticks in his net, While into my net there drops A loved law of obscure meaning. His eye, this flashing full one, He points against the fence wall While against the fine edge of science I point my clear but feeble eye. He is joyous with swift jumping When a mouse sticks in his sharp claw, And I too am joyous when I have grasped The elusive but well loved problem. Though we thus play at all times Neither hinders the other -- Each is happy with his own art, Pursues it with delight. He is master of the work Which he does every day While I am master of my work, Bringing to obscure laws clarity.