With golden whiskers, he sits so fine

Not mischievous, but well-behaved in his prime

He knows the wicked nature of those around

And teaches them, if his master's will is found

Cat-Kot

Бегемот

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

He adores banquets and feasts so fine

Where the wicked and the proud do entwine

On astonished eyes, he pours his delight

With caviar and sturgeon, a sumptuous wine

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

He prefers public transport, a crowd to adore

Wherе people gather, and rulеs are in store

He behaves with decorum, and pays his fare

But shocks the passengers, with his massive air

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

A demon of darkness, with wicked delight

He revels in fear, and the wicked's plight

His power is great, over those who are bold

But to the good, he's a gentle guide to hold

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

Cat-Кот

Бегемот

From Bulgakov's pages, he slipped away

Now living with us, as Cat-BegemOt, he'll stay