(1) While I was listening to these things as as those there spoke them, there was within me a stillness of silence, and I heard the Blessedness whereby I knew proper self. And I ascended to the Vitality as I sought it. And I mutually entered it and stood, not firmly but quietly. And I saw an eternal, intellectual, undivided motion, all-powerful, formless, unlimited by limitation.

(1) Whenever by delight or else by pain, That seizes any faculty of ours, Wholly to that the soul collects itself, It seemeth that no other power it heeds; And this against that error is which thinks One soul above another kindles in us. And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen Which keeps the soul intently bent upon it, Time passes on, and we perceive it not, Because one faculty is that which listens, And other that which the soul keeps entire; This is as if in bonds, and that is free. Of this I had experience positive In hearing and in gazing at that spirit; For fifty full degrees uprisen was The sun, and I had not perceived it, when We came to where those souls with one accord Cried out unto us: "Here is what you ask." A greater opening ofttimes hedges up With but a little forkful of his thorns The villager, what time the grape imbrowns, Than was the passage-way through which ascended Only my Leader and myself behind him, After that company departed from us.

(4) If I was merely what of me thou newly Createdst, Love who governest the heaven, Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light! When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal Desiring thee, made me attentive to it By harmony thou dost modulate and measure, Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled By the sun's flame, that neither rain nor river E'er made a lake so widely spread abroad. The newness of the sound and the great light Kindled in me a longing for their cause, Never before with such acuteness felt; Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself, To quiet in me my perturbed mind, Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask, And she began: "Thou makest thyself so dull With false imagining, that thou seest not What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off. Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest; But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, Ne'er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest." If of my former doubt I was divested By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, I in a new one was the more ensnared;

(5) My mind in this wise wholly in suspense, Steadfast, immovable, attentive gazed, And evermore with gazing grew enkindled. In presence of that light one such becomes, That to withdraw therefrom for other prospect It is impossible he e'er consent; Because the good, which object is of will, Is gathered all in this, and out of it That is defective which is perfect there. Shorter henceforward will my language fall Of what I yet remember, than an infant's Who still his tongue doth moisten at the breast. Not because more than one unmingled semblance Was in the living light on which I looked, For it is always what it was before; But through the sight, that fortified itself In me by looking, one appearance only To me was ever changing as I changed. Within the deep and luminous subsistence Of the High Light appeared to me three circles, Of threefold colour and of one dimension,

(3) Bernard was beckoning unto me, and smiling, That I should upward look; but I already Was of my own accord such as he wished; Because my sight, becoming purified, Was entering more and more into the ray Of the High Light which of itself is true. From that time forward what I saw was greater Than our discourse, that to such vision yields, And yields the memory unto such excess. Even as he is who seeth in a dream, And after dreaming the imprinted passion Remains, and to his mind the rest returns not, Even such am I, for almost utterly Ceases my vision, and distilleth yet Within my heart the sweetness born of it; Even thus the snow is in the sun unsealed, Even thus upon the wind in the light leaves Were the soothsayings of the Sibyl lost. O Light Supreme, that dost so far uplift thee From the conceits of mortals, to my mind Of what thou didst appear re-lend a little, And make my tongue of so great puissance, That but a single sparkle of thy glory It may bequeath unto the future people;

(2) Arrived I saw me where a wondrous thing Drew to itself my sight; and therefore she From whom no care of mine could be concealed, Towards me turning, blithe as beautiful, Said unto me: "Fix gratefully thy mind On God, who unto the first star has brought us." It seemed to me a cloud encompassed us, Luminous, dense, consolidate and bright As adamant on which the sun is striking. Into itself did the eternal pearl Receive us, even as water doth receive A ray of light, remaining still unbroken. If I was body, (and we here conceive not How one dimension tolerates another, Which needs must be if body enter body,) More the desire should be enkindled in us That essence to behold, wherein is seen How God and our own nature were united. There will be seen what we receive by faith, Not demonstrated, but self-evident In guise of the first truth that man believes. I made reply: "Madonna, as devoutly As most I can do I give thanks to Him Who has removed me from the mortal world.

(4) Like as a lark that in the air expatiates, First singing and then silent with content Of the last sweetness that doth satisfy her, Such seemed to me the image of the imprint Of the eternal pleasure, by whose will Doth everything become the thing it is. And notwithstanding to my doubt I was As glass is to the colour that invests it, To wait the time in silence it endured not, But forth from out my mouth, "What things are these?" Extorted with the force of its own weight; Whereat I saw great joy of coruscation. Thereafterward with eye still more enkindled The blessed standard made to me reply, To keep me not in wonderment suspended: "I see that thou believest in these things Because I say them, but thou seest not how; So that, although believed in, they are hidden. Thou doest as he doth who a thing by name Well apprehendeth, but its quiddity Cannot perceive, unless another show it. 'Regnum coelorum' suffereth violence From fervent love, and from that living hope That overcometh the Divine volition;

(2) I've set before thee; henceforth feed thyself, For to itself diverteth all my care That theme whereof I have been made the scribe. The greatest of the ministers of nature, Who with the power of heaven the world imprints And measures with his light the time for us, With that part which above is called to mind Conjoined, along the spirals was revolving, Where each time earlier he presents himself; And I was with him; but of the ascending I was not conscious, saving as a man Of a first thought is conscious ere it come; And Beatrice, she who is seen to pass From good to better, and so suddenly That not by time her action is expressed, How lucent in herself must she have been! And what was in the sun, wherein I entered, Apparent not by colour but by light, I, though I call on genius, art, and practice, Cannot so tell that it could be imagined; Believe one can, and let him long to see it. And if our fantasies too lowly are For altitude so great, it is no marvel, Since o'er the sun was never eye could go.

(5) And to the mortal world, when thou returnest, This carry back, that it may not presume Longer tow'rd such a goal to move its feet. The mind, that shineth here, on earth doth smoke; From this observe how can it do below That which it cannot though the heaven assume it?" Such limit did its words prescribe to me, The question I relinquished, and restricted Myself to ask it humbly who it was. "Between two shores of Italy rise cliffs, And not far distant from thy native place, So high, the thunders far below them sound, And form a ridge that Catria is called, 'Neath which is consecrate a hermitage Wont to be dedicate to worship only." Thus unto me the third speech recommenced, And then, continuing, it said: "Therein Unto God's service I became so steadfast, That feeding only on the juice of olives Lightly I passed away the heats and frosts, Contented in my thoughts contemplative. That cloister used to render to these heavens Abundantly, and now is empty grown, So that perforce it soon must be revealed.

(4) And he who wakes abhorreth what he sees, So all unconscious is his sudden waking, Until the judgment cometh to his aid, So from before mine eyes did Beatrice Chase every mote with radiance of her own, That cast its light a thousand miles and more. Whence better after than before I saw, And in a kind of wonderment I asked About a fourth light that I saw with us. And said my Lady: "There within those rays Gazes upon its Maker the first soul That ever the first virtue did create." Even as the bough that downward bends its top At transit of the wind, and then is lifted By its own virtue, which inclines it upward, Likewise did I, the while that she was speaking, Being amazed, and then I was made bold By a desire to speak wherewith I burned. And I began: "O apple, that mature Alone hast been produced, O ancient father, To whom each wife is daughter and daughter-in-law, Devoutly as I can I supplicate thee That thou wouldst speak to me; thou seest my wish; And I, to hear thee quickly, speak it not."

(7) His aspect had bereft me of my sight, So that I turned me back unto my Teachers, Like one who goeth as his hearing guides him. And as, the harbinger of early dawn, The air of May doth move and breathe out fragrance, Impregnate all with herbage and with flowers, So did I feel a breeze strike in the midst My front, and felt the moving of the plumes That breathed around an odour of ambrosia; And heard it said: "Blessed are they whom grace So much illumines, that the love of taste Excites not in their breasts too great desire, Hungering at all times so far as is just."

My thought, which was in my body, snatched me away from my race. It took me up to the top of the world, which is close to the light that shone upon the whole area there. I saw no earthly likeness, but there was light. And my thought separated from the body of darkness as though in sleep.

(4) "God seeth all things, and in Him, blest spirit, Thy sight is," said I, "so that never will Of his can possibly from thee be hidden; Thy voice, then, that for ever makes the heavens Glad, with the singing of those holy fires Which of their six wings make themselves a cowl, Wherefore does it not satisfy my longings? Indeed, I would not wait thy questioning If I in thee were as thou art in me." "The greatest of the valleys where the water Expands itself," forthwith its words began, "That sea excepted which the earth engarlands, Between discordant shores against the sun Extends so far, that it meridian makes Where it was wont before to make the horizon. I was a dweller on that valley's shore 'Twixt Ebro and Magra that with journey short Doth from the Tuscan part the Genoese. With the same sunset and same sunrise nearly Sit Buggia and the city whence I was, That with its blood once made the harbour hot. Folco that people called me unto whom My name was known; and now with me this heaven Imprints itself, as I did once with it;

(7) If the mind reels before something thus alien to all we know, we must take our stand on the things of this realm and strive thence to see. But, in the looking, beware of throwing outward; this Principle does not lie away somewhere leaving the rest void; to those of power to reach, it is present; to the inapt, absent. In our daily affairs we cannot hold an object in mind if we have given ourselves elsewhere, occupied upon some other matter; that very thing must be before us to be truly the object of observation. So here also; preoccupied by the impress of something else, we are withheld under that pressure from becoming aware of The Unity; a mind gripped and fastened by some definite thing cannot take the print of the very contrary. As Matter, it is agreed, must be void of quality in order to accept the types of the universe, so and much more must the soul be kept formless if there is to be no infixed impediment to prevent it being brimmed and lit by the Primal Principle.

In sum, we must withdraw from all the extern, pointed wholly inwards; no leaning to the outer; the total of things ignored, first in their relation to us and later in the very idea; the self put out of mind in the contemplation of the Supreme; all the commerce so closely There that, if report were possible, one might become to others reporter of that communion.

Such converse, we may suppose, was that of Minos, thence known as the Familiar of Zeus; and in that memory he established the laws which report it, enlarged to that task by his vision There. Some, on the other hand, there will be to disdain such citizen service, choosing to remain in the higher: these will be those that have seen much.

God- we read- is outside of none, present unperceived to all; we break away from Him, or rather from ourselves; what we turn from we cannot reach; astray ourselves, we cannot go in search of another; a child distraught will not recognise its father; to find ourselves is to know our source.

(1) "I had pity on the light of the spirit that the mind had received. I returned to my position to pray to the exalted, infinite light that the power of the spirit might increase there and might be filled without dark defilement. And reverently I said, You are the root of the light. Your hidden form has appeared, O exalted, infinite one. May the whole power of the spirit spread and may it be filled with its light, O infinite light. Then he will not be able to join with the unconceived spirit, and the power of the astonishment will not be able to mix with nature. According to the will of the majesty, my prayer was accepted.

(6) My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: "What ails thee, that thou canst not stand? But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?" "O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I'll tell thee," said I, "what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta'en away." And he: "If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut Thy cogitations, howsoever small. What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.

(3) And it continued: "Hunger long and grateful, Drawn from the reading of the mighty volume Wherein is never changed the white nor dark, Thou hast appeased, my son, within this light In which I speak to thee, by grace of her Who to this lofty flight with plumage clothed thee. Thou thinkest that to me thy thought doth pass From Him who is the first, as from the unit, If that be known, ray out the five and six; And therefore who I am thou askest not, And why I seem more joyous unto thee Than any other of this gladsome crowd. Thou think'st the truth; because the small and great Of this existence look into the mirror Wherein, before thou think'st, thy thought thou showest. But that the sacred love, in which I watch With sight perpetual, and which makes me thirst With sweet desire, may better be fulfilled, Now let thy voice secure and frank and glad Proclaim the wishes, the desire proclaim, To which my answer is decreed already." To Beatrice I turned me, and she heard Before I spake, and smiled to me a sign, That made the wings of my desire increase;

(3) When I was seized by the eternal light, by the garment that was upon me, and was taken up to a pure place whose likeness cannot be revealed in the world, then by means of a great Blessedness I saw all those about whom I had heard. And I praised them all and I [stood at rest] upon my knowledge and [I] turned to the Knowledge [of] the Universal Ones, the Barbelo-Aeon.

(3) Thus round about me flashed a living light, And left me swathed around with such a veil Of its effulgence, that I nothing saw. "Ever the Love which quieteth this heaven Welcomes into itself with such salute, To make the candle ready for its flame." No sooner had within me these brief words An entrance found, than I perceived myself To be uplifted over my own power, And I with vision new rekindled me, Such that no light whatever is so pure But that mine eyes were fortified against it. And light I saw in fashion of a river Fulvid with its effulgence, 'twixt two banks Depicted with an admirable Spring. Out of this river issued living sparks, And on all sides sank down into the flowers, Like unto rubies that are set in gold; And then, as if inebriate with the odours, They plunged again into the wondrous torrent, And as one entered issued forth another. "The high desire, that now inflames and moves thee To have intelligence of what thou seest, Pleaseth me all the more, the more it swells.

(2) As when in nights serene of the full moon Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs, Saw I, above the myriads of lamps, A Sun that one and all of them enkindled, E'en as our own doth the supernal sights, And through the living light transparent shone The lucent substance so intensely clear Into my sight, that I sustained it not. O Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear! To me she said: "What overmasters thee A virtue is from which naught shields itself. There are the wisdom and the omnipotence That oped the thoroughfares 'twixt heaven and earth, For which there erst had been so long a yearning." As fire from out a cloud unlocks itself, Dilating so it finds not room therein, And down, against its nature, falls to earth, So did my mind, among those aliments Becoming larger, issue from itself, And that which it became cannot remember. "Open thine eyes, and look at what I am: Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough Hast thou become to tolerate my smile."