From “Inferno”

F
canto iv

A hard thunder broke my sleep.
As if roused by a god,

I stood straight up;
my rested eyes moved about,

seeking acquaintance
with place.

I found myself
on the edge of a chasm;

a sinkhole of anguish;
one that welcomes infinite grief.

So dark and deep,
so hazy that even my penetrating

vision couldn’t make out a thing.

We descend now
into this sightless world,

my guide, totally pale, said
and then continued:

I’ll go first;
you follow second.

I saw him
drain his color; I asked:

How can I go?
You’re afraid—

you who’ve comforted me
through all my doubts.

He replied, It’s the pain
of the people down there that empties my face.

It’s pity
that you’ve mistaken for fear.

And it’s the long way
that pushes us now.

Let’s go.

He started, and me,
I followed

into that first circle
that surrounds the abyss.

It was dark
and so, by listening alone, I knew

it was not weeping but sighs
that tremored this unbounded air.

It was grief without martyrdom
that disturbed them,

this great and varied many
of infants, of girls, of mothers and men.

My teacher, to me:

Don’t you wish to know
the shades you see before you go ahead?

They’re not sinners.
Though even if mercy was given,

it wouldn’t be enough.
They were never baptized,

never could pass through the door
to the faith you want to believe.

Never able
to rightly adore God.

They came before.
And of these, I am the same.

It is only for this defect that
we are lost.

Without hope,
we live on in desire.

When I heard of those people,
suspended

in this limbo,
a leaden grief seized my heart.

Teacher, tell me.
Tell me, sir—

I began, with longing
to be sure of the faith

I thought
could win any error.

Are some left out
in thanks to their merit?

That is, were there some
that He blessed later?

And my teacher—
for whom I intended

my whispered speech—
responded:

I was newly in this state
when He came, that Profound One,

with the sign of victorious coronation.
He called up the shade of the first parent,

of Abel, his son; and that of Noah;
that of Moses, obedient lawgiver;

those of Abraham the patriarch
and David the King; Israel, too,

with his father and with his children;
that of Rachel, for whom he did so much;

and many others that He blessed.
Before them, no human soul had yet been saved.

We continued while he spoke,
passing through a forest—

one not of trees, I say,
but thick with longing shades.

Not far from where I once had slept,
I saw a fire

win a hemisphere of darkness.
We were far

but not so much that
I could not see:

honorable people
held this place.

My teacher, you who honor
both science and art,

how is it that these shades part
themselves in this manner?

And him to me,

The honor of their names,
sounding still in your life above,

grants them grace in heaven
that then distinguishes them here.

As he spoke,
a voice was heard:
Great poet—you who journeyed
now return!

It then fell still and quiet.
I saw four great shades—

not sad and not content—
coming toward us.

My teacher:

Note the one with sword in hand
who comes before the three as leader.

This is Homer the sovereign poet;
the other is Horace the satirist,

Ovid is third, and Lucan is last.
They are in accordance

in the name sounded
by that solo voice. (Great poet—)

Thus they honor me
and they do it well.

And so it was like this
that I saw assemble

that of the highest form:

the highest lord
who coasts

like the eagle flies
above all others.

They reasoned together
then turned to me

with a nod of greeting.
My teacher smiled.

Still, more honor did they grant me:
I was welcomed

as one of their array;
I was the sixth within so much wisdom.

And so we went
toward that hemisphere of light,

speaking about things on which, now,
it is far better to be silent.

We came upon the foot of a noble castle.
A stream defended its outskirts.

After that, a high wall
wrapped seven times around.

We walked the first barrier
as if it was hard earth.

We passed through
seven doors.

We reached a meadow,
verdant and crisp.

There were people there:
eyes slow, solemn.

They spoke rarely;
they did so with sweetness.

They had the semblance
of a great authority.

We took to one side,
to an open place, high and luminous,

such that below,
all the many could be seen.

There, upon the gleaming green,
I was shown the many great shades.

To see them was to encounter
my most exalted self.

I saw Elektra
with her many companions,

Hector and Aeneas; Caesar,
himself falcon-eyed and armed.

I saw Camilla and Penthesilea.
I saw King Latinus, who sat with his daughter.

I saw Brutus from whom Tarquin fled;
Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia;

I saw the Saladin,
alone, apart.

When I had lifted more my lids and lashes,
I saw the master of those who know

sitting among his family of philosophers.
All look to him. All honor to him.

Nearest to him, I saw Socrates and Plato.
I saw Democritus, who placed the world at chance,

Diogenes, Anaxagoras, and Thales,
Empedocles, Heraclitus, and Zeno;

I saw Dioscorides, collector of qualities;
I saw Orfeo; Cicero and Linus.

I saw moral Seneca; Euclid the geometrician,
and Ptolemy, Hippocrates, Avicenna, and Galen.

I saw Averroes, who made
the great margins.

I cannot recount all in full.
To say too much, too many times ... 

My theme is long.
The sextet cleaved, leaving two.

My wise teacher led me another way
out of this quiet into that trembling air.

I come to the place
where nothing shines, ever.
Translated from the Italian, below
____


Ruppemi l'alto sonno ne la testa
un greve truono, sì ch'io mi riscossi
come persona ch'è per forza desta;

e l'occhio riposato intorno mossi,
dritto levato, e fiso riguardai
per conoscer lo loco dov' io fossi.

Vero è che 'n su la proda mi trovai
de la valle d'abisso dolorosa
che 'ntrono accoglie d'infiniti guai.

Oscura e profonda era e nebulosa
tanto che, per ficcar lo viso a fondo,
io non vi discernea alcuna cosa.

“Or discendiam qua giù nel cieco mondo,”
cominciò il poeta tutto smorto.
“Io sarò primo, e tu sarai secondo.”

E io, che del color mi fui accorto,
dissi: “Come verrò, se tu paventi
che suoli al mio dubbiare esser conforto?”

Ed elli a me: “L'angoscia de le genti
che son qua giù, nel viso mi dipigne
quella pietà che tu per tema senti.

Andiam, ché la via lunga ne sospigne.”
Così si mise e così mi fé intrare
nel primo cerchio che l'abisso cigne.

Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,
non avea pianto mai che di sospiri
che l'aura etterna facevan tremare;

ciò avvenia di duol sanza martìri,
ch'avean le turbe, ch'eran molte e grandi,
d'infanti e di femmine e di viri.

Lo buon maestro a me: “Tu non dimandi
che spiriti son questi che tu vedi?
Or vo' che sappi, innanzi che più andi,

ch'ei non peccaro; e s'elli hanno mercedi,
non basta, perché non ebber battesmo,
ch'è porta de la fede che tu credi;

e s' e' furon dinanzi al cristianesmo,
non adorar debitamente a Dio:
e di questi cotai son io medesmo.

Per tai difetti, non per altro rio,
semo perduti, e sol di tanto offesi
che sanza speme vivemo in disio.”

Gran duol mi prese al cor quando lo 'ntesi,
però che gente di molto valore
conobbi che 'n quel limbo eran sospesi.

“Dimmi, maestro mio, dimmi, segnore,”
comincia' io per volere esser certo
di quella fede che vince ogne errore:

“uscicci mai alcuno, o per suo merto
o per altrui, che poi fosse beato?”
E quei che 'ntese il mio parlar coverto,

rispuose: “Io era nuovo in questo stato,
quando ci vidi venire un possente,
con segno di vittoria coronato.

Trasseci l'ombra del primo parente,
d'Abèl suo figlio e quella di Noè,
di Moïsè legista e ubidente;

Abraàm patrïarca e Davìd re,
Israèl con lo padre e co' suoi nati
e con Rachele, per cui tanto fé,

e altri molti, e feceli beati.
E vo' che sappi che, dinanzi ad essi,
spiriti umani non eran salvati.”

Non lasciavam l'andar perch' ei dicessi,
ma passavam la selva tuttavia,
la selva, dico, di spiriti spessi.

Non era lunga ancor la nostra via
di qua dal sonno, quand' io vidi un foco
ch'emisperio di tenebre vincia.

Di lungi n'eravamo ancora un poco,
ma non sì ch'io non discernessi in parte
ch'orrevol gente possedea quel loco.

“O tu ch'onori scïenzïa e arte,
questi chi son c'hanno cotanta onranza,
che dal modo de li altri li diparte?”

E quelli a me: “L'onrata nominanza
che di lor suona sù ne la tua vita,
grazïa acquista in ciel che sì li avanza.”

Intanto voce fu per me udita:
“Onorate l'altissimo poeta;
l'ombra sua torna, ch'era dipartita.”

Poi che la voce fu restata e queta,
vidi quattro grand' ombre a noi venire:
sembianz' avevan né trista né lieta.

Lo buon maestro cominciò a dire:
“Mira colui con quella spada in mano,
che vien dinanzi ai tre sì come sire:

quelli è Omero poeta sovrano;
l'altro è Orazio satiro che vene;
Ovidio è 'l terzo, e l'ultimo Lucano.

Però che ciascun meco si convene
nel nome che sonò la voce sola,
fannomi onore, e di ciò fanno bene.”

Così vid' i' adunar la bella scola
di quel segnor de l'altissimo canto
che sovra li altri com' aquila vola.

Da ch'ebber ragionato insieme alquanto,
volsersi a me con salutevol cenno,
e 'l mio maestro sorrise di tanto;

e più d'onore ancora assai mi fenno,
ch'e' sì mi fecer de la loro schiera,
sì ch'io fui sesto tra cotanto senno.

Così andammo infino a la lumera,
parlando cose che 'l tacere è bello,
sì com' era 'l parlar colà dov' era.

Venimmo al piè d'un nobile castello,
sette volte cerchiato d'alte mura,
difeso intorno d'un bel fiumicello.

Questo passammo come terra dura;
per sette porte intrai con questi savi:
giugnemmo in prato di fresca verdura.

Genti v'eran con occhi tardi e gravi,
di grande autorità ne' lor sembianti:
parlavan rado, con voci soavi.

Traemmoci così da l'un de' canti,
in loco aperto, luminoso e alto,
sì che veder si potien tutti quanti.

Colà diritto, sovra 'l verde smalto,
mi fuor mostrati li spiriti magni,
che del vedere in me stesso m'essalto.

I' vidi Eletra con molti compagni,
tra ' quai conobbi Ettòr ed Enea,
Cesare armato con li occhi grifagni.

Vidi Cammilla e la Pantasilea;
da l'altra parte vidi 'l re Latino
che con Lavina sua figlia sedea.

Vidi quel Bruto che cacciò Tarquino,
Lucrezia, Iulia, Marzïa e Corniglia;
e solo, in parte, vidi 'l Saladino.

Poi ch'innalzai un poco più le ciglia,
vidi 'l maestro di color che sanno
seder tra filosofica famiglia.

Tutti lo miran, tutti onor li fanno:
quivi vid' ïo Socrate e Platone,
che 'nnanzi a li altri più presso li stanno;

Democrito che 'l mondo a caso pone,
Dïogenès, Anassagora e Tale,
Empedoclès, Eraclito e Zenone;

e vidi il buono accoglitor del quale,
Dïascoride dico; e vidi Orfeo,
Tulïo e Lino e Seneca morale;

Euclide geomètra e Tolomeo,
Ipocràte, Avicenna e Galïeno,
Averoìs che 'l gran comento feo.

Io non posso ritrar di tutti a pieno,
però che sì mi caccia il lungo tema,
che molte volte al fatto il dir vien meno.

La sesta compagnia in due si scema:
per altra via mi mena il savio duca,
fuor de la queta, ne l'aura che trema.
E vegno in parte ove non è che luca.
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