(1) O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along, Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost. The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears. Ye other few who have the neck uplifted Betimes to th' bread of Angels upon which One liveth here and grows not sated by it, Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you Upon the water that grows smooth again. Those glorious ones who unto Colchos passed Were not so wonder-struck as you shall be, When Jason they beheld a ploughman made! The con-created and perpetual thirst For the realm deiform did bear us on, As swift almost as ye the heavens behold. Upward gazed Beatrice, and I at her; And in such space perchance as strikes a bolt And flies, and from the notch unlocks itself,

(5) So he with greater strides departed from us; And on the road remained I with those two, Who were such mighty marshals of the world. And when before us he had gone so far Mine eyes became to him such pursuivants As was my understanding to his words, Appeared to me with laden and living boughs Another apple-tree, and not far distant, From having but just then turned thitherward. People I saw beneath it lift their hands, And cry I know not what towards the leaves, Like little children eager and deluded, Who pray, and he they pray to doth not answer, But, to make very keen their appetite, Holds their desire aloft, and hides it not. Then they departed as if undeceived; And now we came unto the mighty tree Which prayers and tears so manifold refuses. "Pass farther onward without drawing near; The tree of which Eve ate is higher up, And out of that one has this tree been raised." Thus said I know not who among the branches; Whereat Virgilius, Statius, and myself Went crowding forward on the side that rises.

(5) Thereat were quieted the fleecy cheeks Of him the ferryman of the livid fen, Who round about his eyes had wheels of flame. But all those souls who weary were and naked Their colour changed and gnashed their teeth together, As soon as they had heard those cruel words. God they blasphemed and their progenitors, The human race, the place, the time, the seed Of their engendering and of their birth! Thereafter all together they drew back, Bitterly weeping, to the accursed shore, Which waiteth every man who fears not God. Charon the demon, with the eyes of glede, Beckoning to them, collects them all together, Beats with his oar whoever lags behind. As in the autumn-time the leaves fall off, First one and then another, till the branch Unto the earth surrenders all its spoils; In similar wise the evil seed of Adam Throw themselves from that margin one by one, At signals, as a bird unto its lure. So they depart across the dusky wave, And ere upon the other side they land, Again on this side a new troop assembles.

(6) And this man was our Patriarch; hence whoever Doth follow him as he commands can see That he is laden with good merchandise. But for new pasturage his flock has grown So greedy, that it is impossible They be not scattered over fields diverse; And in proportion as his sheep remote And vagabond go farther off from him, More void of milk return they to the fold. Verily some there are that fear a hurt, And keep close to the shepherd; but so few, That little cloth doth furnish forth their hoods. Now if my utterance be not indistinct, If thine own hearing hath attentive been, If thou recall to mind what I have said, In part contented shall thy wishes be; For thou shalt see the plant that's chipped away, And the rebuke that lieth in the words, 'Where well one fattens, if he strayeth not.'"

(5) Full soon they were upon us, because running Moved onward all that mighty multitude, And two in the advance cried out, lamenting, "Mary in haste unto the mountain ran, And Caesar, that he might subdue Ilerda, Thrust at Marseilles, and then ran into Spain." "Quick! quick! so that the time may not be lost By little love!" forthwith the others cried, "For ardour in well-doing freshens grace!" "O folk, in whom an eager fervour now Supplies perhaps delay and negligence, Put by you in well-doing, through lukewarmness, This one who lives, and truly I lie not, Would fain go up, if but the sun relight us; So tell us where the passage nearest is." These were the words of him who was my Guide; And some one of those spirits said: "Come on Behind us, and the opening shalt thou find; So full of longing are we to move onward, That stay we cannot; therefore pardon us, If thou for churlishness our justice take.

(6) What time my Guide: "I think that tow'rds the edge Our dexter shoulders it behoves us turn, Circling the mount as we are wont to do." Thus in that region custom was our ensign; And we resumed our way with less suspicion For the assenting of that worthy soul They in advance went on, and I alone Behind them, and I listened to their speech, Which gave me lessons in the art of song. But soon their sweet discourses interrupted A tree which midway in the road we found, With apples sweet and grateful to the smell. And even as a fir-tree tapers upward From bough to bough, so downwardly did that; I think in order that no one might climb it. On that side where our pathway was enclosed Fell from the lofty rock a limpid water, And spread itself abroad upon the leaves. The Poets twain unto the tree drew near, And from among the foliage a voice Cried: "Of this food ye shall have scarcity."

(7) Now that which was behind thee is before thee; But that thou know that I with thee am pleased, With a corollary will I mantle thee. Evermore nature, if it fortune find Discordant to it, like each other seed Out of its region, maketh evil thrift; And if the world below would fix its mind On the foundation which is laid by nature, Pursuing that, 'twould have the people good. But you unto religion wrench aside Him who was born to gird him with the sword, And make a king of him who is for sermons; Therefore your footsteps wander from the road."

(4) "O happy dead! O spirits elect already!" Virgilius made beginning, "by that peace Which I believe is waiting for you all, Tell us upon what side the mountain slopes, So that the going up be possible, For to lose time irks him most who most knows." As sheep come issuing forth from out the fold By ones and twos and threes, and the others stand Timidly, holding down their eyes and nostrils, And what the foremost does the others do, Huddling themselves against her, if she stop, Simple and quiet and the wherefore know not; So moving to approach us thereupon I saw the leader of that fortunate flock, Modest in face and dignified in gait. As soon as those in the advance saw broken The light upon the ground at my right side, So that from me the shadow reached the rock, They stopped, and backward drew themselves somewhat; And all the others, who came after them, Not knowing why nor wherefore, did the same. "Without your asking, I confess to you This is a human body which you see, Whereby the sunshine on the ground is cleft.

(2) Rejoicing in their flamelets seemed the heaven. O thou septentrional and widowed site, Because thou art deprived of seeing these! When from regarding them I had withdrawn, Turning a little to the other pole, There where the Wain had disappeared already, I saw beside me an old man alone, Worthy of so much reverence in his look, That more owes not to father any son. A long beard and with white hair intermingled He wore, in semblance like unto the tresses, Of which a double list fell on his breast. The rays of the four consecrated stars Did so adorn his countenance with light, That him I saw as were the sun before him. "Who are you? ye who, counter the blind river, Have fled away from the eternal prison?" Moving those venerable plumes, he said: "Who guided you? or who has been your lamp In issuing forth out of the night profound, That ever black makes the infernal valley? The laws of the abyss, are they thus broken? Or is there changed in heaven some council new, That being damned ye come unto my crags?"

(1) 'Twas now the hour that turneth back desire In those who sail the sea, and melts the heart, The day they've said to their sweet friends farewell, And the new pilgrim penetrates with love, If he doth hear from far away a bell That seemeth to deplore the dying day, When I began to make of no avail My hearing, and to watch one of the souls Uprisen, that begged attention with its hand. It joined and lifted upward both its palms, Fixing its eyes upon the orient, As if it said to God, "Naught else I care for." "Te lucis ante" so devoutly issued Forth from its mouth, and with such dulcet notes, It made me issue forth from my own mind. And then the others, sweetly and devoutly, Accompanied it through all the hymn entire, Having their eyes on the supernal wheels. Here, Reader, fix thine eyes well on the truth, For now indeed so subtile is the veil, Surely to penetrate within is easy. I saw that army of the gentle-born Thereafterward in silence upward gaze, As if in expectation, pale and humble;

(7) In rear of all they shouted: "Sooner were The people dead to whom the sea was opened, Than their inheritors the Jordan saw; And those who the fatigue did not endure Unto the issue, with Anchises' son, Themselves to life withouten glory offered." Then when from us so separated were Those shades, that they no longer could be seen, Within me a new thought did entrance find, Whence others many and diverse were born; And so I lapsed from one into another, That in a reverie mine eyes I closed, And meditation into dream transmuted.

(1) I had already from those shades departed, And followed in the footsteps of my Guide, When from behind, pointing his finger at me, One shouted: "See, it seems as if shone not The sunshine on the left of him below, And like one living seems he to conduct him." Mine eyes I turned at utterance of these words, And saw them watching with astonishment But me, but me, and the light which was broken! "Why doth thy mind so occupy itself," The Master said, "that thou thy pace dost slacken? What matters it to thee what here is whispered? Come after me, and let the people talk; Stand like a steadfast tower, that never wags Its top for all the blowing of the winds; For evermore the man in whom is springing Thought upon thought, removes from him the mark, Because the force of one the other weakens." What could I say in answer but "I come"? I said it somewhat with that colour tinged Which makes a man of pardon sometimes worthy. Meanwhile along the mountain-side across Came people in advance of us a little, Singing the Miserere verse by verse.

(23) "Thou hast sent me, O lord, [to ...] the raging (creatures) 2 of the river

(4) The budding wood bears some; in time of spring, They come. So springs one race of men, and one departs."