But what must we do? How lies the path? How come to vision of the inaccessible Beauty, dwelling as if in consecrated precincts, apart from the common ways where all may see, even the profane? He that has the strength, let him arise and withdraw into himself, foregoing all that is known by the eyes, turning away for ever from the material beauty that once made his joy. When he perceives those shapes of grace that show in body, let him not pursue: he must know them for copies, vestiges, shadows, and hasten away towards That they tell of. For if anyone follow what is like a beautiful shape playing over water- is there not a myth telling in symbol of such a dupe, how he sank into the depths of the current and was swept away to nothingness? So too, one that is held by material beauty and will not break free shall be precipitated, not in body but in Soul, down to the dark depths loathed of the Intellective-Being, where, blind even in the Lower-World, he shall have commerce only with shadows, there as here. "Let us flee then to the beloved Fatherland": this is the soundest counsel. But what is this flight? How are we to gain the open sea? For Odysseus is surely a parable to us when he commands the flight from the sorceries of Circe or Calypso- not content to linger for all the pleasure offered to his eyes and all the delight of sense filling his days. The Fatherland to us is There whence we have come, and There is The Father. What then is our course, what the manner of our flight? This is not a journey for the feet; the feet bring us only from land to land; nor need you think of coach or ship to carry you away; all this order of things you must set aside and refuse to see: you must close the eyes and call instead upon another vision which is to be waked within you, a vision, the birth-right of all, which few turn to use.
Such longing upon longing came upon me To be above, that at each step thereafter For flight I felt in me the pinions growing. When underneath us was...
(6) Such longing upon longing came upon me To be above, that at each step thereafter For flight I felt in me the pinions growing. When underneath us was the stairway all Run o'er, and we were on the highest step, Virgilius fastened upon me his eyes, And said: "The temporal fire and the eternal, Son, thou hast seen, and to a place art come Where of myself no farther I discern. By intellect and art I here have brought thee; Take thine own pleasure for thy guide henceforth; Beyond the steep ways and the narrow art thou. Behold the sun, that shines upon thy forehead; Behold the grass, the flowerets, and the shrubs Which of itself alone this land produces. Until rejoicing come the beauteous eyes Which weeping caused me to come unto thee, Thou canst sit down, and thou canst walk among them. Expect no more or word or sign from me; Free and upright and sound is thy free-will, And error were it not to do its bidding; Thee o'er thyself I therefore crown and mitre!"
This little island round about its base Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze; No other plant that putt...
(5) For 'twere not fitting that the eye o'ercast By any mist should go before the first Angel, who is of those of Paradise. This little island round about its base Below there, yonder, where the billow beats it, Doth rushes bear upon its washy ooze; No other plant that putteth forth the leaf, Or that doth indurate, can there have life, Because it yieldeth not unto the shocks. Thereafter be not this way your return; The sun, which now is rising, will direct you To take the mount by easier ascent." With this he vanished; and I raised me up Without a word, and wholly drew myself Unto my Guide, and turned mine eyes to him. And he began: "Son, follow thou my steps; Let us turn back, for on this side declines The plain unto its lower boundaries." The dawn was vanquishing the matin hour Which fled before it, so that from afar I recognised the trembling of the sea. Along the solitary plain we went As one who unto the lost road returns, And till he finds it seems to go in vain.
Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, I with that heavy-laden soul went on, As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; But when he said, "Leave him, and...
(1) Abreast, like oxen going in a yoke, I with that heavy-laden soul went on, As long as the sweet pedagogue permitted; But when he said, "Leave him, and onward pass, For here 'tis good that with the sail and oars, As much as may be, each push on his barque;" Upright, as walking wills it, I redressed My person, notwithstanding that my thoughts Remained within me downcast and abashed. I had moved on, and followed willingly The footsteps of my Master, and we both Already showed how light of foot we were, When unto me he said: "Cast down thine eyes; 'Twere well for thee, to alleviate the way, To look upon the bed beneath thy feet." As, that some memory may exist of them, Above the buried dead their tombs in earth Bear sculptured on them what they were before; Whence often there we weep for them afresh, From pricking of remembrance, which alone To the compassionate doth set its spur; So saw I there, but of a better semblance In point of artifice, with figures covered Whate'er as pathway from the mount projects.
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom...
(1) To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy. But let dead Poesy here rise again, O holy Muses, since that I am yours, And here Calliope somewhat ascend, My song accompanying with that sound, Of which the miserable magpies felt The blow so great, that they despaired of pardon. Sweet colour of the oriental sapphire, That was upgathered in the cloudless aspect Of the pure air, as far as the first circle, Unto mine eyes did recommence delight Soon as I issued forth from the dead air, Which had with sadness filled mine eyes and breast. The beauteous planet, that to love incites, Was making all the orient to laugh, Veiling the Fishes that were in her escort. To the right hand I turned, and fixed my mind Upon the other pole, and saw four stars Ne'er seen before save by the primal people.
My sight was following up their semblances, And followed till the medium, by excess, The passing farther onward took from it; Whereat the Lady, who...
(4) My sight was following up their semblances, And followed till the medium, by excess, The passing farther onward took from it; Whereat the Lady, who beheld me freed From gazing upward, said to me: "Cast down Thy sight, and see how far thou art turned round." Since the first time that I had downward looked, I saw that I had moved through the whole arc Which the first climate makes from midst to end; So that I saw the mad track of Ulysses Past Gades, and this side, well nigh the shore Whereon became Europa a sweet burden. And of this threshing-floor the site to me Were more unveiled, but the sun was proceeding Under my feet, a sign and more removed. My mind enamoured, which is dallying At all times with my Lady, to bring back To her mine eyes was more than ever ardent. And if or Art or Nature has made bait To catch the eyes and so possess the mind, In human flesh or in its portraiture, All joined together would appear as nought To the divine delight which shone upon me When to her smiling face I turned me round.
On this account my wish would be content To hear what fortune is approaching me, Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly." Thus did I say unto...
(2) On this account my wish would be content To hear what fortune is approaching me, Because foreseen an arrow comes more slowly." Thus did I say unto that selfsame light That unto me had spoken before; and even As Beatrice willed was my own will confessed. Not in vague phrase, in which the foolish folk Ensnared themselves of old, ere yet was slain The Lamb of God who taketh sins away, But with clear words and unambiguous Language responded that paternal love, Hid and revealed by its own proper smile: "Contingency, that outside of the volume Of your materiality extends not, Is all depicted in the eternal aspect. Necessity however thence it takes not, Except as from the eye, in which 'tis mirrored, A ship that with the current down descends. From thence, e'en as there cometh to the ear Sweet harmony from an organ, comes in sight To me the time that is preparing for thee. As forth from Athens went Hippolytus, By reason of his step-dame false and cruel, So thou from Florence must perforce depart.
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...
(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,
That I may know who these are, and what law Makes them appear so ready to pass over, As I discern athwart the dusky light." And he to me: "These...
(4) That I may know who these are, and what law Makes them appear so ready to pass over, As I discern athwart the dusky light." And he to me: "These things shall all be known To thee, as soon as we our footsteps stay Upon the dismal shore of Acheron." Then with mine eyes ashamed and downward cast, Fearing my words might irksome be to him, From speech refrained I till we reached the river. And lo! towards us coming in a boat An old man, hoary with the hair of eld, Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved! Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; I come to lead you to the other shore, To the eternal shades in heat and frost. And thou, that yonder standest, living soul, Withdraw thee from these people, who are dead!" But when he saw that I did not withdraw, He said: "By other ways, by other ports Thou to the shore shalt come, not here, for passage; A lighter vessel needs must carry thee." And unto him the Guide: "Vex thee not, Charon; It is so willed there where is power to do That which is willed; and farther question not."
"Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying, "So that who goeth without wings may mount?" And while ...
(3) 'Twixt Lerici and Turbia, the most desert, The most secluded pathway is a stair Easy and open, if compared with that. "Who knoweth now upon which hand the hill Slopes down," my Master said, his footsteps staying, "So that who goeth without wings may mount?" And while he held his eyes upon the ground Examining the nature of the path, And I was looking up around the rock, On the left hand appeared to me a throng Of souls, that moved their feet in our direction, And did not seem to move, they came so slowly. "Lift up thine eyes," I to the Master said; "Behold, on this side, who will give us counsel, If thou of thine own self can have it not." Then he looked at me, and with frank expression Replied: "Let us go there, for they come slowly, And thou be steadfast in thy hope, sweet son." Still was that people as far off from us, After a thousand steps of ours I say, As a good thrower with his hand would reach, When they all crowded unto the hard masses Of the high bank, and motionless stood and close, As he stands still to look who goes in doubt.
I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation...
(3) I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past. If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed. And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. "Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?
Now follow me, and mind thou do not place As yet thy feet upon the burning sand, But always keep them close unto the wood." Speaking no word, we came...
(4) Now follow me, and mind thou do not place As yet thy feet upon the burning sand, But always keep them close unto the wood." Speaking no word, we came to where there gushes Forth from the wood a little rivulet, Whose redness makes my hair still stand on end. As from the Bulicame springs the brooklet, The sinful women later share among them, So downward through the sand it went its way. The bottom of it, and both sloping banks, Were made of stone, and the margins at the side; Whence I perceived that there the passage was. "In all the rest which I have shown to thee Since we have entered in within the gate Whose threshold unto no one is denied, Nothing has been discovered by thine eyes So notable as is the present river, Which all the little flames above it quenches." These words were of my Leader; whence I prayed him That he would give me largess of the food, For which he had given me largess of desire. "In the mid-sea there sits a wasted land," Said he thereafterward, "whose name is Crete, Under whose king the world of old was chaste.
Could overcome within me the desire I had to be experienced of the world, And of the vice and virtue of mankind; But I put forth on the high open sea...
(5) Could overcome within me the desire I had to be experienced of the world, And of the vice and virtue of mankind; But I put forth on the high open sea With one sole ship, and that small company By which I never had deserted been. Both of the shores I saw as far as Spain, Far as Morocco, and the isle of Sardes, And the others which that sea bathes round about. I and my company were old and slow When at that narrow passage we arrived Where Hercules his landmarks set as signals, That man no farther onward should adventure. On the right hand behind me left I Seville, And on the other already had left Ceuta. 'O brothers, who amid a hundred thousand Perils,' I said, 'have come unto the West, To this so inconsiderable vigil Which is remaining of your senses still Be ye unwilling to deny the knowledge, Following the sun, of the unpeopled world. Consider ye the seed from which ye sprang; Ye were not made to live like unto brutes, But for pursuit of virtue and of knowledge.'
Looking into his Son with all the Love Which each of them eternally breathes forth, The Primal and unutterable Power Whate'er before the mind or eye...
(1) Looking into his Son with all the Love Which each of them eternally breathes forth, The Primal and unutterable Power Whate'er before the mind or eye revolves With so much order made, there can be none Who this beholds without enjoying Him. Lift up then, Reader, to the lofty wheels With me thy vision straight unto that part Where the one motion on the other strikes, And there begin to contemplate with joy That Master's art, who in himself so loves it That never doth his eye depart therefrom. Behold how from that point goes branching off The oblique circle, which conveys the planets, To satisfy the world that calls upon them; And if their pathway were not thus inflected, Much virtue in the heavens would be in vain, And almost every power below here dead. If from the straight line distant more or less Were the departure, much would wanting be Above and underneath of mundane order. Remain now, Reader, still upon thy bench, In thought pursuing that which is foretasted, If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.
Thou makest me remember where and what Proserpina that moment was when lost Her mother her, and she herself the Spring." As turns herself, with feet...
(3) Thou makest me remember where and what Proserpina that moment was when lost Her mother her, and she herself the Spring." As turns herself, with feet together pressed And to the ground, a lady who is dancing, And hardly puts one foot before the other, On the vermilion and the yellow flowerets She turned towards me, not in other wise Than maiden who her modest eyes casts down; And my entreaties made to be content, So near approaching, that the dulcet sound Came unto me together with its meaning As soon as she was where the grasses are. Bathed by the waters of the beauteous river, To lift her eyes she granted me the boon. I do not think there shone so great a light Under the lids of Venus, when transfixed By her own son, beyond his usual custom! Erect upon the other bank she smiled, Bearing full many colours in her hands, Which that high land produces without seed. Apart three paces did the river make us; But Hellespont, where Xerxes passed across, (A curb still to all human arrogance,)
Mine eyes he loosed, and said: "Direct the nerve Of vision now along that ancient foam, There yonder where that smoke is most intense." Even as the...
(4) Mine eyes he loosed, and said: "Direct the nerve Of vision now along that ancient foam, There yonder where that smoke is most intense." Even as the frogs before the hostile serpent Across the water scatter all abroad, Until each one is huddled in the earth. More than a thousand ruined souls I saw, Thus fleeing from before one who on foot Was passing o'er the Styx with soles unwet. From off his face he fanned that unctuous air, Waving his left hand oft in front of him, And only with that anguish seemed he weary. Well I perceived one sent from Heaven was he, And to the Master turned; and he made sign That I should quiet stand, and bow before him. Ah! how disdainful he appeared to me! He reached the gate, and with a little rod He opened it, for there was no resistance. "O banished out of Heaven, people despised!" Thus he began upon the horrid threshold; "Whence is this arrogance within you couched? Wherefore recalcitrate against that will, From which the end can never be cut off, And which has many times increased your pain?
If to be more exalted we aspired, Discordant would our aspirations be Unto the will of Him who here secludes us; Which thou shalt see finds no place...
(4) If to be more exalted we aspired, Discordant would our aspirations be Unto the will of Him who here secludes us; Which thou shalt see finds no place in these circles, If being in charity is needful here, And if thou lookest well into its nature; Nay, 'tis essential to this blest existence To keep itself within the will divine, Whereby our very wishes are made one; So that, as we are station above station Throughout this realm, to all the realm 'tis pleasing, As to the King, who makes his will our will. And his will is our peace; this is the sea To which is moving onward whatsoever It doth create, and all that nature makes." Then it was clear to me how everywhere In heaven is Paradise, although the grace Of good supreme there rain not in one measure. But as it comes to pass, if one food sates, And for another still remains the longing, We ask for this, and that decline with thanks, E'en thus did I; with gesture and with word, To learn from her what was the web wherein She did not ply the shuttle to the end.
Eager already to search in and round The heavenly forest, dense and living-green, Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day, Withouten more delay I...
(1) Eager already to search in and round The heavenly forest, dense and living-green, Which tempered to the eyes the new-born day, Withouten more delay I left the bank, Taking the level country slowly, slowly Over the soil that everywhere breathes fragrance. A softly-breathing air, that no mutation Had in itself, upon the forehead smote me No heavier blow than of a gentle wind, Whereat the branches, lightly tremulous, Did all of them bow downward toward that side Where its first shadow casts the Holy Mountain; Yet not from their upright direction swayed, So that the little birds upon their tops Should leave the practice of each art of theirs; But with full ravishment the hours of prime, Singing, received they in the midst of leaves, That ever bore a burden to their rhymes, Such as from branch to branch goes gathering on Through the pine forest on the shore of Chiassi, When Eolus unlooses the Sirocco. Already my slow steps had carried me Into the ancient wood so far, that I Could not perceive where I had entered it.
Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam. And therefore raise thee up,...
(3) Withouten which whoso his life consumes Such vestige leaveth of himself on earth, As smoke in air or in the water foam. And therefore raise thee up, o'ercome the anguish With spirit that o'ercometh every battle, If with its heavy body it sink not. A longer stairway it behoves thee mount; 'Tis not enough from these to have departed; Let it avail thee, if thou understand me." Then I uprose, showing myself provided Better with breath than I did feel myself, And said: "Go on, for I am strong and bold." Upward we took our way along the crag, Which jagged was, and narrow, and difficult, And more precipitous far than that before. Speaking I went, not to appear exhausted; Whereat a voice from the next moat came forth, Not well adapted to articulate words. I know not what it said, though o'er the back I now was of the arch that passes there; But he seemed moved to anger who was speaking. I was bent downward, but my living eyes Could not attain the bottom, for the dark; Wherefore I: "Master, see that thou arrive
Truly from this time forward shall my words Be naked, so far as it is befitting To lay them open unto thy rude gaze." And more coruscant and with slow...
(5) And if from smoke a fire may be inferred, Such an oblivion clearly demonstrates Some error in thy will elsewhere intent. Truly from this time forward shall my words Be naked, so far as it is befitting To lay them open unto thy rude gaze." And more coruscant and with slower steps The sun was holding the meridian circle, Which, with the point of view, shifts here and there When halted (as he cometh to a halt, Who goes before a squadron as its escort, If something new he find upon his way) The ladies seven at a dark shadow's edge, Such as, beneath green leaves and branches black, The Alp upon its frigid border wears. In front of them the Tigris and Euphrates Methought I saw forth issue from one fountain, And slowly part, like friends, from one another. "O light, O glory of the human race! What stream is this which here unfolds itself From out one source, and from itself withdraws?"
Her mouth was not yet closed again, before Appeared a Lady saintly and alert Close at my side to put her to confusion. "Virgilius, O Virgilius! who...
(2) Her mouth was not yet closed again, before Appeared a Lady saintly and alert Close at my side to put her to confusion. "Virgilius, O Virgilius! who is this?" Sternly she said; and he was drawing near With eyes still fixed upon that modest one. She seized the other and in front laid open, Rending her garments, and her belly showed me; This waked me with the stench that issued from it. I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said: "At least thrice have I called thee; rise and come; Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter." I rose; and full already of high day Were all the circles of the Sacred Mountain, And with the new sun at our back we went. Following behind him, I my forehead bore Like unto one who has it laden with thought, Who makes himself the half arch of a bridge, When I heard say, "Come, here the passage is," Spoken in a manner gentle and benign, Such as we hear not in this mortal region. With open wings, which of a swan appeared, Upward he turned us who thus spake to us, Between the two walls of the solid granite.