Dante's Divine Comedy
PURGATORIO
Cantos XXVI to XXVII
English Edition, translated by Allen
Mandelbaum
from the
ELF Presents
Website.
See their website for other translations.
These translations are not
necessarily the best in English but they
are in the public domain.
Canto XXVI
Canto XXVII
Canto XXVI
|
The Seventh
Circle: The Lustful. |
Examples of
Unnatural and Natural Lust |
|
1 |
While we moved at the edge, one
first, one after, |
|
2 |
and I could often hear my gentle
master |
|
3 |
saying: Take care and do not waste my
warning, |
| |
|
4 |
the sun, its rays already altering
|
|
5 |
the coloring of all the west from
azure |
|
6 |
to white, was striking me on my right
shoulder. |
| |
|
7 |
And where my shadow fell, it made the
flames |
|
8 |
seem more inflamed; and I saw many
shades |
|
9 |
walking, intent upon a sight so
strange. |
| |
|
10 |
This was the reason that first
prompted them |
|
11 |
to speak to me. Among themselves they
said: |
|
12 |
He does not seem to have a fictive
body. |
| |
|
13 |
Then certain of them came as close to
me |
|
14 |
as they were able to while,
cautiously, |
|
15 |
they never left the boundaries of
their burning. |
| |
|
16 |
O you who move behind the others not
|
|
17 |
because of sloth but reverence
perhaps, |
|
18 |
give me who burn in thirst and fire
your answer. |
| |
|
19 |
I'm not alone in needing your
response; |
|
20 |
for all these shades thirst so for it
more than |
|
21 |
an Indian or Ethiopian |
| |
|
22 |
thirsts for cool water. Tell us how
you can |
|
23 |
as if you're not yet caught within
death's net |
|
24 |
make of yourself a wall against the
sun. |
| |
|
25 |
Thus one of them had spoken to me; I
|
|
26 |
should now have answered clearly, had
I not |
|
27 |
been fixed on something strangely
evident; |
| |
|
28 |
for in the middle of the burning
path, |
|
29 |
came people moving opposite to these
|
|
30 |
and I, since they moved left, stared
in suspense. |
| |
|
31 |
There, on all sides, I can see every
shade |
|
32 |
move quickly to embrace another
shade, |
|
33 |
content they did not pause with their
brief greeting, |
| |
|
34 |
as ants, in their dark company, will
touch |
|
35 |
their muzzles, each to each, perhaps
to seek |
|
36 |
news of their fortunes and their
journeyings. |
| |
|
37 |
No sooner is their friendly greeting
done |
|
38 |
than each shade tries to outcry all
the rest |
|
39 |
even before he starts to move ahead,
|
| |
|
40 |
the new group shouting: Sodom and
Gomorrah; |
|
41 |
the other: That the bull may hurry
toward |
|
42 |
her lust, Pasiphae hides in the cow.
|
| |
|
43 |
Then, just like cranes, of whom a
part, to flee |
|
44 |
the sun, fly north to Riphean
mountains, while |
|
45 |
the rest, to flee the frost, fly
toward the sands, |
| |
|
46 |
one group moves with the other
opposite us; |
|
47 |
and they return with tears to their
first chants |
|
48 |
and to the shout appropriate to each.
|
| |
|
49 |
And those who had entreated me came
close |
|
50 |
again, in the same way they'd done
before; |
|
51 |
their faces showed how keen they were
to listen. |
| |
|
52 |
I, seeing their desire once again,
|
|
53 |
began: O souls who can be sure of
gaining |
|
54 |
the state of peace, whenever that may
be, |
| |
|
55 |
my limbs mature or green have not
been left |
|
56 |
within the world beyond; they're here
with me, |
|
57 |
together with their blood and with
their bones. |
| |
|
58 |
That I be blind no longer, through
this place |
|
59 |
I pass; above, a lady has gained
grace |
|
60 |
for me; therefore, I bear my mortal
body |
| |
|
61 |
across your world. So may your
deepest longing |
|
62 |
soon be appeased and you be lodged
within |
|
63 |
the heaven that's most full of love,
most spacious, |
| |
|
64 |
please tell me, so that I may yet
transcribe it |
|
65 |
upon my pages, who you are, and what
|
|
66 |
crowd moves in the direction
opposite. |
| |
|
67 |
Each shade displayed no less
astonishment |
|
68 |
or less confusion than a mountaineer,
|
|
69 |
who, even as he stares about, falls
silent |
| |
|
70 |
when, rough and rustic, he comes to
the city; |
|
71 |
but when they'd set aside
astonishment |
|
72 |
that's soon subdued in noble hearts
he who |
| |
|
73 |
had questioned me before, began
again: |
|
74 |
Blessed are you who would, in order
to |
|
75 |
die better, store experience of our
lands! |
| |
|
76 |
The people moving opposite us shared
|
|
77 |
the sin for which once, while in
triumph, Caesar |
|
78 |
heard 'Queen' called out against him;
that is why, |
| |
|
79 |
as they move off from us, they cry
out 'Sodom,' |
|
80 |
reproaching their own selves, as you
have heard, |
|
81 |
and through their shame abet the
fire's work. |
| |
|
82 |
Our sin was with the other sex; but
since |
|
83 |
we did not keep the bounds of human
law, |
|
84 |
but served our appetites like beasts,
when we |
| |
|
85 |
part from the other ranks, we then
repeat, |
|
86 |
to our disgrace, the name of one who,
in |
|
87 |
the bestial planks, became herself a
beast. |
| |
|
88 |
You now know why we act so, and you
know |
|
89 |
what our sins were; if you would know
our names, |
|
90 |
time is too short, and I don't know
them all. |
| |
|
91 |
But with regard to me, I'll satisfy
|
|
92 |
your wish to know: I'm Guido
Guinizzelli, |
|
93 |
purged here because I grieved before
my end. |
| |
|
94 |
As, after the sad raging of Lycurgus,
|
|
95 |
two sons, finding their mother, had
embraced her, |
|
96 |
so l desired to do but dared not to
|
| |
|
97 |
when I heard him declare his name:
the father |
|
98 |
of me and of the others those, my
betters |
|
99 |
who ever used sweet, gracious rhymes
of love. |
| |
|
100 |
And without hearing, speaking,
pensive, I |
|
101 |
walked on, still gazing at him, a
long time, |
|
102 |
prevented by the fire from drawing
closer. |
| |
|
103 |
When I had fed my sight on him, I
offered |
|
104 |
myself with such a pledge that others
must |
|
105 |
believe completely ready for his
service. |
| |
|
106 |
And he to me: Because of what I hear,
|
|
107 |
you leave a trace within me one so
clear, |
|
108 |
Lethe itself can't blur or cancel it.
|
| |
|
109 |
But if your words have now sworn
truthfully, |
|
110 |
do tell me why it is that you have
shown |
|
111 |
in speech and gaze that I am dear to
you. |
| |
|
112 |
And I to him: It's your sweet lines
that, for |
|
113 |
as long as modern usage lasts, will
still |
|
114 |
make dear their very inks. Brother,
he said, |
| |
|
115 |
he there, whom I point out to you-he
showed |
|
116 |
us one who walked ahead he was a
better |
|
117 |
artisan of the mother tongue,
surpassing |
| |
|
118 |
all those who wrote their poems of
love or prose |
|
119 |
romances let the stupid ones contend,
|
|
120 |
who think that from Limoges there
came the best. |
| |
|
121 |
They credit rumor rather than the
truth, |
|
122 |
allowing their opinion to be set
|
|
123 |
before they hear what art or reason
says. |
| |
|
124 |
So, many of our fathers once
persisted, |
|
125 |
voice after voice, in giving to
Guittone |
|
126 |
the prize but then, with most, the
truth prevailed. |
| |
|
127 |
Now if you are so amply privileged
|
|
128 |
that you will be admitted to the
cloister |
|
129 |
where Christ is abbot of the college,
then |
| |
|
130 |
pray say, for me, to Him, a
Paternoster |
|
131 |
that is, as much of it as those in
this |
|
132 |
place need, since we have lost the
power to sin. |
| |
|
133 |
Then, to make place, perhaps, for
those behind him, |
|
134 |
he disappeared into the fire, just as
|
|
135 |
a fish, through water, plunges toward
the bottom. |
| |
|
136 |
Saying that my desire was making
ready |
|
137 |
a place of welcome for his name, I
moved |
|
138 |
ahead a little, toward the one who
had |
| |
|
139 |
been pointed out to me. And he spoke
freely: |
|
140 |
So does your courteous request please
me |
|
141 |
I neither could nor would conceal
myself |
| |
|
142 |
from you. I am Arnaut, who, going,
weep |
|
143 |
and sing; with grief, I see my former
folly; |
|
144 |
with joy, I see the hoped-for day
draw near. |
| |
|
145 |
Now, by the Power that conducts you
to |
|
146 |
the summit of the stairway, I pray
you: |
|
147 |
remember, at time opportune, my pain!
|
| |
|
148 |
Then, in the fire that refines, he
hid. |
Canto XXVII
|
The Seventh
Circle: The Lustful. |
The Wall of Fire
and the Angel of God. Dante's Sleep upon the Stairway,
and his Dream of Leah and Rachel. Arrival at the
Terrestrial Paradise. |
|
1 |
Just as, there where its Maker shed
His blood, |
|
2 |
the sun shed its first rays, and Ebro
lay |
|
3 |
beneath high Libra, and the ninth
hour's rays |
| |
|
4 |
were scorching Ganges' waves; so
here, the sun |
|
5 |
stood at the point of day's departure
when |
|
6 |
God's angel happy showed himself to
us. |
| |
|
7 |
He stood along the edge, beyond the
flames, |
|
8 |
singing Beati mundo corde in
|
|
9 |
a voice that had more life than ours
can claim. |
| |
|
10 |
Then: Holy souls, you cannot move
ahead |
|
11 |
unless the fire has stung you first:
enter |
|
12 |
the flames, and don't be deaf to song
you'll hear |
| |
|
13 |
beyond, he said when we were close to
him; |
|
14 |
and when I heard him say this, I
became |
|
15 |
like one who has been laid within the
grave. |
| |
|
16 |
I joined my hands and stretched them
out to fend |
|
17 |
the flames, watching the fire,
imagining |
|
18 |
clearly the human bodies I'd once
seen |
| |
|
19 |
burning. My gentle escorts turned to
me, |
|
20 |
and Virgil said: My son, though there
may be |
|
21 |
suffering here, there is no death.
Remember, |
| |
|
22 |
remember! If I guided you to safety
|
|
23 |
even upon the back of Geryon,
|
|
24 |
then now, closer to God, what shall I
do? |
| |
|
25 |
Be sure: although you were to spend a
full |
|
26 |
one thousand years within this fire's
center, |
|
27 |
your head would not be balder by one
hair. |
| |
|
28 |
And if you think I am deceiving you,
|
|
29 |
draw closer to the flames, let your
own hands |
|
30 |
try out, within the fire, your
clothing's hem |
| |
|
31 |
put down, by now put down, your every
fear; |
|
32 |
turn toward the fire, and enter,
confident! |
|
33 |
But I was stubborn, set against my
conscience. |
| |
|
34 |
When he saw me still halting,
obstinate, |
|
35 |
he said, somewhat perplexed: Now see,
son: this |
|
36 |
wall stands between you and your
Beatrice. |
| |
|
37 |
As, at the name of Thisbe, Pyramus,
|
|
38 |
about to die, opened his eyes, and
saw her |
|
39 |
(when then the mulberry became
bloodred), |
| |
|
40 |
so, when my stubbornness had
softened, 1, |
|
41 |
hearing the name that's always
flowering |
|
42 |
within my mind, turned to my knowing
guide. |
| |
|
43 |
At which he shook his head and said:
And would |
|
44 |
you have us stay along this side?
then smiled |
|
45 |
as one smiles at a child fruit has
beguiled. |
| |
|
46 |
Then he, ahead of me, entered the
fire; |
|
47 |
and he asked Statius, who had walked
between us |
|
48 |
before, dividing us, to go behind.
|
| |
|
49 |
No sooner was I in that fire than I'd
|
|
50 |
have thrown myself in molten glass to
find |
|
51 |
coolness because those flames were so
intense. |
| |
|
52 |
My gentle father, who would comfort
me, |
|
53 |
kept talking, as we walked, of
Beatrice, |
|
54 |
saying: I seem to see her eyes
already. |
| |
|
55 |
A voice that sang beyond us was our
guide; |
|
56 |
and we, attentive to that voice,
emerged |
|
57 |
just at the point where it began to
climb. |
| |
|
58 |
Venite, benedicti Patris mei,
|
|
59 |
it sang within a light that overcame
me: |
|
60 |
I could not look at such intensity.
|
| |
|
61 |
The sun departs, it added; evening
comes; |
|
62 |
don't stay your steps, but hurry on
before |
|
63 |
the west grows dark. |
| |
|
64 |
The path we took climbed straight
|
|
65 |
such that, in front of me, my body
blocked |
|
66 |
the rays of sun, already low behind
us. |
| |
|
67 |
And we had only tried a few steps
when |
|
68 |
I and my sages sensed the sun had set
|
|
69 |
because the shadow I had cast was
spent. |
| |
|
70 |
Before one color came to occupy
|
|
71 |
that sky in all of its immensity
|
|
72 |
and night was free to summon all its
darkness, |
| |
|
73 |
each of us made one of those stairs
his bed: |
|
74 |
the nature of the mountain had so
weakened |
|
75 |
our power and desire to climb ahead.
|
| |
|
76 |
Like goats that, when they grazed,
were swift and tameless |
|
77 |
along the mountain peaks, but now are
sated, |
|
78 |
and rest and ruminate while the sun
blazes |
| |
|
79 |
untroubled, in the shadows, silently,
|
|
80 |
watched over by the herdsman as he
leans |
|
81 |
upon his staff and oversees their
peace; |
| |
|
82 |
or like the herdsman in the open
fields, |
|
83 |
spending the night beside his quiet
flock, |
|
84 |
watching to see that no beast drives
them off; |
| |
|
85 |
such were all three of us at that
point |
|
86 |
they were like the herdsmen, I was
like the goat; |
|
87 |
upon each side of us, high rock walls
rose. |
| |
|
88 |
From there, one saw but little of the
sky, |
|
89 |
but in that little, I could see the
stars |
|
90 |
brighter and larger than they usually
are. |
| |
|
91 |
But while I watched the stars, in
reverie, |
|
92 |
sleep overcame me sleep, which often
sees, |
|
93 |
before it happens, what is yet to be.
|
| |
|
94 |
It was the hour, I think, when
Cytherea, |
|
95 |
who always seems aflame with fires of
love, |
|
96 |
first shines upon the mountains from
the east, |
| |
|
97 |
that, in my dream, I seemed to see a
woman |
|
98 |
both young and fair; along a plain
she gathered |
|
99 |
flowers, and even as she sang, she
said: |
| |
|
100 |
Whoever asks my name, know that I'm
Leah, |
|
101 |
and I apply my lovely hands to
fashion |
|
102 |
a garland of the flowers I have
gathered. |
| |
|
103 |
To find delight within this mirror I
|
|
104 |
adorn myself; whereas my sister
Rachel |
|
105 |
never deserts her mirror; there she
sits |
| |
|
106 |
all day; she longs to see her fair
eyes gazing, |
|
107 |
as I, to see my hands adorning, long:
|
|
108 |
she is content with seeing, I with
labor. |
| |
|
109 |
And now, with the reflected lights
that glow |
|
110 |
before the dawn and, rising, are most
welcome |
|
111 |
to pilgrims as, returning, they near
home, |
| |
|
112 |
the shadows fled upon all sides; my
sleep |
|
113 |
fled with them; and at this, I woke
and saw |
|
114 |
that the great teachers had already
risen. |
| |
|
115 |
Today your hungerings will find their
peace |
|
116 |
through that sweet fruit the care of
mortals seeks |
|
117 |
among so many branches. This, the
speech, |
| |
|
118 |
the solemn words, that Virgil spoke
to me; |
|
119 |
and there were never tidings to
compare, |
|
120 |
in offering delight to me, with
these. |
| |
|
121 |
My will on will to climb above was
such |
|
122 |
that at each step I took I felt the
force |
|
123 |
within my wings was growing for the
flight. |
| |
|
124 |
When all the staircase lay beneath us
and |
|
125 |
we'd reached the highest step, then
Virgil set |
|
126 |
his eyes insistently on me and said:
|
| |
|
127 |
My son, you've seen the temporary
fire |
|
128 |
and the eternal fire; you have
reached |
|
129 |
the place past which my powers cannot
see. |
| |
|
130 |
I've brought you here through
intellect and art; |
|
131 |
from now on, let your pleasure be
your guide; |
|
132 |
you're past the steep and past the
narrow paths. |
| |
|
133 |
Look at the sun that shines upon your
brow; |
|
134 |
look at the grasses, flowers, and the
shrubs |
|
135 |
born here, spontaneously, of the
earth. |
| |
|
136 |
Among them, you can rest or walk
until |
|
137 |
the coming of the glad and lovely
eyes |
|
138 |
those eyes that, weeping, sent me to
your side. |
| |
|
139 |
Await no further word or sign from
me: |
|
140 |
your will is free, erect, and whole
to act |
|
141 |
against that will would be to err:
therefore |
| |
|
142 |
I crown and miter you over yourself.
|
|