SAM_5969-1Галина Рудь – член Союза писателей России, член Союза писателей-переводчиков, член Московской Ассоциации гидов-переводчиков. Стихи пишу с детства. Кошковед, кошкотворец, автор статей о кошках и известных кошковладельцах, публиковавшихся в московских журналах “Друг кошек” и “Мой друг – кошка”. Первая стихотворная книжка – детская энциклопедия кошачьих пород – вышла в 2005 году. Автор книг поэзии, прозы, переводов русскоязычных поэтов на английский язык. Победитель и лауреат литературных конкурсов. Имею литературные награды.

Galina A. Rud – was born in Ukraine. Since 1968 I have lived and worked in Moscow. I am the member of the Russian writers’ Union; the member of the Russian writers-translators’ Union; the member of Moscow guides’ Association. My first book, written in verse, was issued in 2005 – Encyclopedia of cat’s breeds for children. I am the author of books of prose, poetry and translations of the Russian poetry into English. I am the laureate of literary competitions; had literary rewards.





Nothing sadder on this earth than a human being without a cat.

Rita Mae Brown





In monasteries lived not in vain

The first domestic cats,

Preserving the monastic grain

From rodents: mice and rats.

In winter time cat warmed the cell

By soul, so hot,

With purring trill reminding well:

Life’s mystic gift of God.

Today cats are adorning life,

As long ago; I think,

The purring creatures glorify

God as each earthly being.



The Universe has been created by Heaven.

All animals got tasks: the bat and the raven –

How they have to live and to glorify God,

Immortal, substantial great Father, the Lord.

God ordered the bee: gather honey, so sweet.

He told the grey wolf: chase the hare through field.

The cow has grazing, to give milk – God’s spell.

The animals keep their tasks very well.

The ringing mosquito protects forests, and

It feeds fish in water with larva. And then –

Mice live in the storehouse for the cats could

Catch there the rodents – beautiful food.

The elephants, giants, are walking through jungles,

They carry the heavy logs, like little bundles.

The loving dog guards the abode of a man.

But what is the mission of pussy-cats then?

The blue butterfly fertilizes a bloom.

What for do we need a cat in our room?

The finger of God shows task of the sheep –

To give its fur for a tsar-man; don’t weep!

The hen – cluck-cluck-cluck – lays an egg for a man.

But what is the mission of pussy-cats then?

The cat will create comfortableness, the cat

Can decorate windowsill, drive a rat.

He always is glad, purring ditties, sits near,

Such he serves the Deity – fulfils His idea.





The Lord brought the animals to the first person.

He opened Adam his special purpose.

Thus Adam got special task from the Father:

To name all the animals – beautiful bother.

The man thought: the elephant has a long trunk,

The sparrow, given great noise, – feathered one.

The scorpion is crawling, awakes fear. Ah!

The horned buffalo and the long-necked giraffe…

Who’s scratching himself by a paw? This nice pet –

Tailed, fluffy, benevolent, caring – the cat.

Then Eve added words after thinking a little:

– Let us call the cat’s little baby the kitten.

The cat’s wife, female cat – the pussy. You know,

First people decided all this long ago.




A purring cat is a monk’s friend and a comfort.

A cat glorifies God by its purring trumpet.

The cats lived in cells, serving monks. This is clear:

The rodents, harm-doers, were trembling with fear.

In Optina Pustyn lived elder Nectarous.

He served the Liturgy without some worries.

Sometimes in the garden with prayer he worked.

His wonderful tomcat heard prayer and purred.

The elder and cat lived the quarrels without;

Had the conversations bliss, happiness about.

Nectarous told his cat: – Monks became small.

We have no right to be praised just at all.

Time passed – and the eagle was replaced by the crow,

The bear and lion – replaced by cat, so,

To serve Great Gerasimus was lion’s goal.

My novice today is the cat: we are small.

Please, Grey, have a look, who is visiting us?

The cat’s running quickly to have a look just.

– Lie down, my friend, here and have a rest.

The dutiful cat from the stove answered: – Yes.

The cat fulfilled work with the special endeavour,

And everyone told with surprise: so clever!

The elder Nectarous prayed with hot tears,

The cat sweetly purred, giving music for ears.

The seventeenth year brought the demons’ reign.

The Orthodox world had misfortune, being slain.

The friends suffered their disaster, I guess.

The cloister’s closed and ruined, alas!

They carted the elder along bumpy road.

The sad tomcat sat on the porch – long ago…





A cat, the companion of monk, helps in sadness.

With purr cats are greeting high Heaven – kind, grandiose.

On Cyprus, embraced by deep sea from all ends,

Saint Nicholas monastery till now stands –

The world oldest colony of bushy cats,

The beautiful refuge of different pets.

And every cat novice and the veteran

Have their obedience there. And when

The narrow path brings the pilgrims to place,

The cat, being on duty, meets them, measures pace.

The snakes attacked Cyprus a long time ago.

Cats’ team cleaned the island, the snakes were devoured.

The bishop brought saviours, brave cats, to that place:

– Meet meowing cart with the cats – in the ways.

The monks fed the creatures at cloister ward,

The meowing beasts stayed with them in the court.

Monks worked very well, cultivated the grain, and

Bad-doers, grey rodents, by cats were scared.

Monastic cats brought them impossible dread,

With sharp teeth and long claws they frightened each rat.

The cats could preserve nourishment for the monks,

They also preserved their dignity once.

Imagine, this colony is still alive,

Till now in Cyprus cats are glorified.

The cats there live just according to right.

The pussies sing songs, where God’s glorified!







When Zosimus found Maria,

On the stone he read the inscription.

Date of her death was written here,

There was her name in addition.

Mary died one year ago,

But it seemed: she was sleeping lightly.

Wilderness saved Maria, so,

Wilderness was clever and mighty.

But, alas, Zosimus had neither

Strong pick hammer, nor spade – he carried,

Neither crowbar with him, nor miser.

How to dig a grave for Mary?

But the Deity heard his prayer.

From the wild a lion appeared,

Glorifying the Heaven’s grandeur.

Ah! Zosimus trembled with fear.

The extraordinary beast was mere

Ready helping. The potent lion

Has approached ashes, oh, dear!

Licked her bare feet with deep snarling.

The incomparable, mighty, proud

Lion dug a grave, growling out.

It wept with its bitter despair,

Digging earth, either hard or sear.

It prepared Mary’s grave there.

And Zosimus buried Maria.


* * *

Till people apply to the Lord, I am sure,

The saints always would help us with their cure.

By God’s will a wonder appears before us.

Saint Gertrude protects orchards, helps poor persons,

Takes care of beggary; this is her matter.

And she is the wanderers’ and cats’ protector.

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