| 1 |
Amazement overwhelming me, I like |
| 2 |
a child who always hurries back to find |
| 3 |
that place he trusts the most turned to my guide;
|
| |
| 4 |
and like a mother quick to reassure |
| 5 |
her pale and panting son with the same voice
|
| 6 |
that she has often used to comfort him, |
| |
| 7 |
she said: Do you not know you are in Heaven,
|
| 8 |
not know how holy all of Heaven is, |
| 9 |
how righteous zeal moves every action here?
|
| |
| 10 |
Now, since this cry has agitated you |
| 11 |
so much, you can conceive how had you seen
|
| 12 |
me smile and heard my song here you would have been
|
| |
| 13 |
confounded; and if you had understood |
| 14 |
the prayer within that cry, by now you would
|
| 15 |
know the revenge you'll see before your death.
|
| |
| 16 |
The sword that strikes from Heaven's height is
neither |
| 17 |
hasty nor slow, except as it appears |
| 18 |
to him who waits for it who longs or fears.
|
| |
| 19 |
But turn now toward the other spirits here;
|
| 20 |
for if you set your sight as I suggest, |
| 21 |
you will see many who are notable. |
| |
| 22 |
As pleased my guide, I turned my eyes and saw
|
| 23 |
a hundred little suns; as these together |
| 24 |
cast light, each made the other lovelier.
|
| |
| 25 |
I stood as one who curbs within himself |
| 26 |
the goad of longing and, in fear of being
|
| 27 |
too forward, does not dare to ask a question.
|
| |
| 28 |
At this, the largest and most radiant |
| 29 |
among those pearls moved forward that he might
|
| 30 |
appease my need to hear who he might be. |
| |
| 31 |
Then, in that light, I heard: Were you to see,
|
| 32 |
even as I do see, the charity |
| 33 |
that burns in us, your thoughts would have been
uttered. |
| |
| 34 |
But lest, by waiting, you be slow to reach
|
| 35 |
the high goal of your seeking, I shall answer
|
| 36 |
what you were thinking when you curbed your speech.
|
| |
| 37 |
That mountain on whose flank Cassino lies
|
| 38 |
was once frequented on its summit by |
| 39 |
those who were still deluded, still awry;
|
| |
| 40 |
and I am he who was the first to carry |
| 41 |
up to that peak the name of Him who brought
|
| 42 |
to earth the truth that lifts us to the heights.
|
| |
| 43 |
And such abundant grace had brought me light
|
| 44 |
that, from corrupted worship that seduced
|
| 45 |
the world, I won away the nearby sites. |
| |
| 46 |
These other flames were all contemplatives,
|
| 47 |
men who were kindled by that heat which brings
|
| 48 |
to birth the blessed flowers and blessed fruits.
|
| |
| 49 |
Here is Macarius, here is Romualdus, |
| 50 |
here are my brothers, those who stayed their steps
|
| 51 |
in cloistered walls, who kept their hearts steadfast.
|
| |
| 52 |
I answered: The affection that you show |
| 53 |
in speech to me, and kindness that I see |
| 54 |
and note within the flaming of your lights,
|
| |
| 55 |
have given me so much more confidence, |
| 56 |
just like the sun that makes the rose expand
|
| 57 |
and reach the fullest flowering it can. |
| |
| 58 |
Therefore I pray you, father and may you |
| 59 |
assure me that I can receive such grace |
| 60 |
to let me see, unveiled, your human face.
|
| |
| 61 |
And he: Brother, your high desire will be
|
| 62 |
fulfilled within the final sphere, as all
|
| 63 |
the other souls' and my own longing will.
|
| |
| 64 |
There, each desire is perfect, ripe, intact;
|
| 65 |
and only there, within that final sphere,
|
| 66 |
is every part where it has always been. |
| |
| 67 |
That sphere is not in space and has no poles;
|
| 68 |
our ladder reaches up to it, and that |
| 69 |
is why it now is hidden from your sight. |
| |
| 70 |
Up to that sphere, Jacob the patriarch |
| 71 |
could see that ladder's topmost portion reach,
|
| 72 |
when it appeared to him so thronged with angels.
|
| |
| 73 |
But no one now would lift his feet from earth
|
| 74 |
to climb that ladder, and my Rule is left
|
| 75 |
to waste the paper it was written on. |
| |
| 76 |
What once were abbey walls are robbers' dens;
|
| 77 |
what once were cowls are sacks of rotten meal.
|
| 78 |
But even heavy usury does not |
| |
| 79 |
offend the will of God as grievously |
| 80 |
as the appropriation of that fruit |
| 81 |
which makes the hearts of monks go mad with greed;
|
| |
| 82 |
for all within the keeping of the Church |
| 83 |
belongs to those who ask it in God's name,
|
| 84 |
and not to relatives or concubines. |
| |
| 85 |
The flesh of mortals yields so easily |
| 86 |
on earth a good beginning does not run |
| 87 |
from when the oak is born until the acorn.
|
| |
| 88 |
Peter began with neither gold nor silver,
|
| 89 |
and I with prayer and fasting, and when Francis
|
| 90 |
began his fellowship, he did it humbly; |
| |
| 91 |
if you observe the starting point of each,
|
| 92 |
and look again to see where it has strayed,
|
| 93 |
then you will see how white has gone to gray.
|
| |
| 94 |
And yet, the Jordan in retreat, the sea |
| 95 |
in flight when God had willed it so, were sights
|
| 96 |
more wonderful than His help here will be.
|
| |
| 97 |
So did he speak to me and he drew back |
| 98 |
to join his company, which closed, compact;
|
| 99 |
then, like a whirlwind, upward, all were swept.
|
| |
| 100 |
The gentle lady simply with a sign |
| 101 |
impelled me after them and up that ladder,
|
| 102 |
so did her power overcome my nature; |
| |
| 103 |
and never here below, where our ascent |
| 104 |
and descent follow nature's law, was there
|
| 105 |
motion as swift as mine when I took wing.
|
| |
| 106 |
So, reader, may I once again return |
| 107 |
to those triumphant ranks an end for which
|
| 108 |
I often beat my breast, weep for my sins |
| |
| 109 |
more quickly than your finger can withdraw
|
| 110 |
from flame and be thrust into it, I saw, |
| 111 |
and was within, the sign that follows Taurus.
|
| |
| 112 |
O stars of glory, constellation steeped |
| 113 |
in mighty force, all of my genius |
| 114 |
whatever be its worth has you as source: |
| |
| 115 |
with you was born and under you was hidden
|
| 116 |
he who is father of all mortal lives, |
| 117 |
when I first felt the air of Tuscany; |
| |
| 118 |
and then, when grace was granted me to enter
|
| 119 |
the high wheel that impels your revolutions,
|
| 120 |
your region was my fated point of entry. |
| |
| 121 |
To you my soul now sighs devotedly, |
| 122 |
that it may gain the force for this attempt,
|
| 123 |
hard trial that now demands its every strength.
|
| |
| 124 |
You are so near the final blessedness, |
| 125 |
so Beatrice began, that you have need |
| 126 |
of vision clear and keen; and thus, before
|
| |
| 127 |
you enter farther, do look downward, see |
| 128 |
what I have set beneath your feet already:
|
| 129 |
much of the world is there. If you see that,
|
| |
| 130 |
your heart may then present itself with all
|
| 131 |
the joy it can to the triumphant throng |
| 132 |
that comes in gladness through this ether's rounds.
|
| |
| 133 |
My eyes returned through all the seven spheres
|
| 134 |
and saw this globe in such a way that I |
| 135 |
smiled at its scrawny image: I approve |
| |
| 136 |
that judgment as the best, which holds this earth
|
| 137 |
to be the least; and he whose thoughts are set
|
| 138 |
elsewhere, can truly be called virtuous. |
| |
| 139 |
I saw Latona's daughter radiant, |
| 140 |
without the shadow that had made me once |
| 141 |
believe that she contained both rare and dense.
|
| |
| 142 |
And there, Hyperion, I could sustain |
| 143 |
the vision of your son, and saw Dione |
| 144 |
and Maia as they circled nearby him. |
| |
| 145 |
The temperate Jupiter appeared to me |
| 146 |
between his father and his son; and I |
| 147 |
saw clearly how they vary their positions.
|
| |
| 148 |
And all the seven heavens showed to me |
| 149 |
their magnitudes, their speeds, the distances
|
| 150 |
of each from each. The little threshing floor
|
| |
| 151 |
that so incites our savagery was all |
| 152 |
from hills to river mouths revealed to me
|
| 153 |
while I wheeled with eternal Gemini. |
| |
| 154 |
My eyes then turned again to the fair eyes.
|
