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Dante Alighieri - Purgatorio (English)
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Thy wish to know me shall in sooth be granted;
  I`m Guido Guinicelli, and now purge me,
  Having repented ere the hour extreme."

The same that in the sadness of Lycurgus
  Two sons became, their mother re-beholding,
  Such I became, but rise not to such height,

The moment I heard name himself the father
  Of me and of my betters, who had ever
  Practised the sweet and gracious rhymes of love;

And without speech and hearing thoughtfully
  For a long time I went, beholding him,
  Nor for the fire did I approach him nearer.

When I was fed with looking, utterly
  Myself I offered ready for his service,
  With affirmation that compels belief.

And he to me: "Thou leavest footprints such
  In me, from what I hear, and so distinct,
  Lethe cannot efface them, nor make dim.

But if thy words just now the truth have sworn,
  Tell me what is the cause why thou displayest
  In word and look that dear thou holdest me?"

And I to him: "Those dulcet lays of yours
  Which, long as shall endure our modern fashion,
  Shall make for ever dear their very ink!"

"O brother," said he, "he whom I point out,"
  And here he pointed at a spirit in front,
  "Was of the mother tongue a better smith.

Verses of love and proses of romance,
  He mastered all; and let the idiots talk,
  Who think the Lemosin surpasses him.

To clamour more than truth they turn their faces,
  And in this way establish their opinion,
  Ere art or reason has by them been heard.

Thus many ancients with Guittone did,
  From cry to cry still giving him applause,
  Until the truth has conquered with most persons.

Now, if thou hast such ample privilege
  `Tis granted thee to go unto the cloister
  Wherein is Christ the abbot of the college,

To him repeat for me a Paternoster,
  So far as needful to us of this world,
  Where power of sinning is no longer ours."

Then, to give place perchance to one behind,
  Whom he had near, he vanished in the fire
  As fish in water going to the bottom.

I moved a little tow`rds him pointed out,
  And said that to his name my own desire
  An honourable place was making ready.

He of his own free will began to say:
  `Tan m` abellis vostre cortes deman,
  Que jeu nom` puesc ni vueill a vos cobrire;

Jeu sui Arnaut, que plor e vai chantan;
  Consiros vei la passada folor,
  E vei jauzen lo jorn qu` esper denan.

Ara vus prec per aquella valor,
  Que vus condus al som de la scalina,
  Sovenga vus a temprar ma dolor.`*

Then hid him in the fire that purifies them.


* So pleases me your courteous demand,
  I cannot and I will not hide me from you.
I am Arnaut, who weep and singing go;
  Contrite I see the folly of the past,
  And joyous see the hoped-for day before me.
Therefore do I implore you, by that power
  Which guides you to the summit of the stairs,
  Be mindful to assuage my suffering!


Purgatorio: Canto XXVII


As when he vibrates forth his earliest rays,
  In regions where his Maker shed his blood,
  (The Ebro falling under lofty Libra,

And waters in the Ganges burnt with noon,)
  So stood the Sun; hence was the day departing,
  When the glad Angel of God appeared to us.

Outside the flame he stood upon the verge,
  And chanted forth, "Beati mundo corde,"
  In voice by far more living than our own.

Then: "No one farther goes, souls sanctified,
  If first the fire bite not; within it enter,
  And be not deaf unto the song beyond."

When we were close beside him thus he said;
  Wherefore e`en such became I, when I heard him,
  As he is who is put into the grave.

Upon my clasped hands I straightened me,
  Scanning the fire, and vividly recalling
  The human bodies I had once seen burned.

Towards me turned themselves my good Conductors,
  And unto me Virgilius said: "My son,
  Here may indeed be torment, but not death.

Remember thee, remember! and if I
  On Geryon have safely guided thee,
  What shall I do now I am nearer God?

Believe for certain, shouldst thou stand a full
  Millennium in the bosom of this flame,
  It could not make thee bald a single hair.

And if perchance thou think that I deceive thee,
  Draw near to it, and put it to the proof
  With thine own hands upon thy garment`s hem.

Now lay aside, now lay aside all fear,
  Turn hitherward, and onward come securely;"
  And I still motionless, and `gainst my conscience!

Seeing me stand still motionless and stubborn,
  Somewhat disturbed he said: "Now look thou, Son,
  `Twixt Beatrice and thee there is this wall."

As at the name of Thisbe oped his lids
  The dying Pyramus, and gazed upon her,
  What time the mulberry became vermilion,

Even thus, my obduracy being softened,
  I turned to my wise Guide, hearing the name
  That in my memory evermore is welling.

Whereat he wagged his head, and said: "How now?
  Shall we stay on this side?" then smiled as one
  Does at a child who`s vanquished by an apple.

Then into the fire in front of me he entered,
  Beseeching Statius to come after me,
  Who a long way before divided us.

When I was in it, into molten glass
  I would have cast me to refresh myself,
  So without measure was the burning there!

And my sweet Father, to encourage me,
  Discoursing still of Beatrice went on,
  Saying: "Her eyes I seem to see already!"

A voice, that on the other side was singing,
  Directed us, and we, attent alone
  On that, came forth where the ascent began.

"Venite, benedicti Patris mei,"
  Sounded within a splendour, which was there
  Such it o`ercame me, and I could not look.

"The sun departs," it added, "and night cometh;
  Tarry ye not, but onward urge your steps,
  So long as yet the west becomes not dark."

Straight forward through the rock the path ascended
  In such a way that I cut off the rays
  Before me of the sun, that now was low.

And of few stairs we yet had made assay,
  Ere by the vanished shadow the sun`s setting
  Behind us we perceived, I and my Sages.

And ere in all its parts immeasurable
  The horizon of one aspect had become,
  And Night her boundless dispensation held,

Each of us of a stair had made his bed;
  Because the nature of the mount took from us
  The power of climbing, more than the delight.

Even as in ruminating passive grow
  The goats, who have been swift and venturesome
  Upon the mountain-tops ere they were fed,

Hushed in the shadow, while the sun is hot,
  Watched by the herdsman, who upon his staff
  Is leaning, and in leaning tendeth them;

And as the shepherd, lodging out of doors,
  Passes the night beside his quiet flock,
  Watching that no wild beast may scatter it,

Such at that hour were we, all three of us,
  I like the goat, and like the herdsmen they,
  Begirt on this side and on that by rocks.

Little could there be seen of things without;
  But through that little I beheld the stars
  More luminous and larger than their wont.

Thus ruminating, and beholding these,
  Sleep seized upon me,--sleep, that oftentimes
  Before a deed is done has tidings of it.

It was the hour, I think, when from the East
  First on the mountain Citherea beamed,
  Who with the fire of love seems always burning;

Youthful and beautiful in dreams methought
  I saw a lady walking in a meadow,
  Gathering flowers; and singing she was saying:

"Know whosoever may my name demand
  That I am Leah, and go moving round
  My beauteous hands to make myself a garland.

To please me at the mirror, here I deck me,
  But never does my sister Rachel leave
  Her looking-glass, and sitteth all day long.

To see her beauteous eyes as eager is she,
  As I am to adorn me with my hands;
  Her, seeing, and me, doing satisfies."

And now before the antelucan splendours
  That unto pilgrims the more grateful rise,
  As, home-returning, less remote they lodge,

The darkness fled away on every side,
  And slumber with it; whereupon I rose,
  Seeing already the great Masters risen.

"That apple sweet, which through so many branches
  The care of mortals goeth in pursuit of,
  To-day shall put in peace thy hungerings."

Speaking to me, Virgilius of such words
  As these made use; and never were there guerdons
  That could in pleasantness compare with these.

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!"


Purgatorio: Canto XXVIII


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.

And lo! my further course a stream cut off,
  Which tow`rd the left hand with its little waves
  Bent down the grass that on its margin sprang.

All waters that on earth most limpid are
  Would seem to have within themselves some mixture
  Compared with that which nothing doth conceal,

Although it moves on with a brown, brown current
  Under the shade perpetual, that never
  Ray of the sun lets in, nor of the moon.

With feet I stayed, and with mine eyes I passed
  Beyond the rivulet, to look upon
  The great variety of the fresh may.

And there appeared to me (even as appears
  Suddenly something that doth turn aside
  Through very wonder every other thought)

A lady all alone, who went along
  Singing and culling floweret after floweret,
  With which her pathway was all painted over.

"Ah, beauteous lady, who in rays of love
  Dost warm thyself, if I may trust to looks,
  Which the heart`s witnesses are wont to be,

May the desire come unto thee to draw
  Near to this river`s bank," I said to her,
  "So much that I might hear what thou art singing.

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,)

More hatred from Leander did not suffer
  For rolling between Sestos and Abydos,
  Than that from me, because it oped not then.

"Ye are new-comers; and because I smile,"
  Began she, "peradventure, in this place
  Elect to human nature for its nest,

Some apprehension keeps you marvelling;
  But the psalm `Delectasti` giveth light
  Which has the power to uncloud your intellect.

And thou who foremost art, and didst entreat me,
  Speak, if thou wouldst hear more; for I came ready
  To all thy questionings, as far as needful."

"The water," said I, "and the forest`s sound,
  Are combating within me my new faith
  In something which I heard opposed to this."

Whence she: "I will relate how from its cause
  Proceedeth that which maketh thee to wonder,
  And purge away the cloud that smites upon thee.

The Good Supreme, sole in itself delighting,
  Created man good, and this goodly place
  Gave him as hansel of eternal peace.

By his default short while he sojourned here;
  By his default to weeping and to toil
  He changed his innocent laughter and sweet play.

That the disturbance which below is made
  By exhalations of the land and water,
  (Which far as may be follow after heat,)

Might not upon mankind wage any war,
  This mount ascended tow`rds the heaven so high,
  And is exempt, from there where it is locked.

Now since the universal atmosphere
  Turns in a circuit with the primal motion
  Unless the circle is broken on some side,

Upon this height, that all is disengaged
  In living ether, doth this motion strike
  And make the forest sound, for it is dense;

And so much power the stricken plant possesses
  That with its virtue it impregns the air,
  And this, revolving, scatters it around;

And yonder earth, according as `tis worthy
  In self or in its clime, conceives and bears
  Of divers qualities the divers trees;

It should not seem a marvel then on earth,
  This being heard, whenever any plant
  Without seed manifest there taketh root.

And thou must know, this holy table-land
  In which thou art is full of every seed,
  And fruit has in it never gathered there.

The water which thou seest springs not from vein
  Restored by vapour that the cold condenses,
  Like to a stream that gains or loses breath;

But issues from a fountain safe and certain,
  Which by the will of God as much regains
  As it discharges, open on two sides.

Upon this side with virtue it descends,
  Which takes away all memory of sin;
  On that, of every good deed done restores it.

Here Lethe, as upon the other side
  Eunoe, it is called; and worketh not
  If first on either side it be not tasted.

This every other savour doth transcend;
  And notwithstanding slaked so far may be
  Thy thirst, that I reveal to thee no more,

I`ll give thee a corollary still in grace,
  Nor think my speech will be to thee less dear
  If it spread out beyond my promise to thee.

Those who in ancient times have feigned in song
  The Age of Gold and its felicity,
  Dreamed of this place perhaps upon Parnassus.

Here was the human race in innocence;
  Here evermore was Spring, and every fruit;
  This is the nectar of which each one speaks."

Then backward did I turn me wholly round
  Unto my Poets, and saw that with a smile
  They had been listening to these closing words;

Then to the beautiful lady turned mine eyes.


Purgatorio: Canto XXIX


Singing like unto an enamoured lady
  She, with the ending of her words, continued:
  "Beati quorum tecta sunt peccata."

And even as Nymphs, that wandered all alone
  Among the sylvan shadows, sedulous
  One to avoid and one to see the sun,

She then against the stream moved onward, going
  Along the bank, and I abreast of her,
  Her little steps with little steps attending.

Between her steps and mine were not a hundred,
  When equally the margins gave a turn,
  In such a way, that to the East I faced.

Nor even thus our way continued far
  Before the lady wholly turned herself
  Unto me, saying, "Brother, look and listen!"

And lo! a sudden lustre ran across
  On every side athwart the spacious forest,
  Such that it made me doubt if it were lightning.

But since the lightning ceases as it comes,
  And that continuing brightened more and more,
  Within my thought I said, "What thing is this?"

And a delicious melody there ran
  Along the luminous air, whence holy zeal
  Made me rebuke the hardihood of Eve;

For there where earth and heaven obedient were,
  The woman only, and but just created,
  Could not endure to stay `neath any veil;

Underneath which had she devoutly stayed,
  I sooner should have tasted those delights
  Ineffable, and for a longer time.

While `mid such manifold first-fruits I walked
  Of the eternal pleasure all enrapt,
  And still solicitous of more delights,

In front of us like an enkindled fire
  Became the air beneath the verdant boughs,
  And the sweet sound as singing now was heard.

O Virgins sacrosanct! if ever hunger,
  Vigils, or cold for you I have endured,
  The occasion spurs me their reward to claim!

Now Helicon must needs pour forth for me,
  And with her choir Urania must assist me,
  To put in verse things difficult to think.

A little farther on, seven trees of gold
  In semblance the long space still intervening
  Between ourselves and them did counterfeit;

But when I had approached so near to them
  The common object, which the sense deceives,
  Lost not by distance any of its marks,

The faculty that lends discourse to reason
  Did apprehend that they were candlesticks,
  And in the voices of the song "Hosanna!"

Above them flamed the harness beautiful,
  Far brighter than the moon in the serene
  Of midnight, at the middle of her month.

I turned me round, with admiration filled,
  To good Virgilius, and he answered me
  With visage no less full of wonderment.

Then back I turned my face to those high things,
  Which moved themselves towards us so sedately,
  They had been distanced by new-wedded brides.

The lady chid me: "Why dost thou burn only
  So with affection for the living lights,
  And dost not look at what comes after them?"

Then saw I people, as behind their leaders,
  Coming behind them, garmented in white,
  And such a whiteness never was on earth.

The water on my left flank was resplendent,
  And back to me reflected my left side,
  E`en as a mirror, if I looked therein.

When I upon my margin had such post
  That nothing but the stream divided us,
  Better to see I gave my steps repose;

And I beheld the flamelets onward go,
  Leaving behind themselves the air depicted,
  And they of trailing pennons had the semblance,

So that it overhead remained distinct
  With sevenfold lists, all of them of the colours
  Whence the sun`s bow is made, and Delia`s girdle.

These standards to the rearward longer were
  Than was my sight; and, as it seemed to me,
  Ten paces were the outermost apart.

Under so fair a heaven as I describe
  The four and twenty Elders, two by two,
  Came on incoronate with flower-de-luce.

They all of them were singing: "Blessed thou
  Among the daughters of Adam art, and blessed
  For evermore shall be thy loveliness."

After the flowers and other tender grasses
  In front of me upon the other margin
  Were disencumbered of that race elect,

Even as in heaven star followeth after star,
  There came close after them four animals,
  Incoronate each one with verdant leaf.

Plumed with six wings was every one of them,
  The plumage full of eyes; the eyes of Argus
  If they were living would be such as these.

Reader! to trace their forms no more I waste
  My rhymes; for other spendings press me so,
  That I in this cannot be prodigal.

But read Ezekiel, who depicteth them
  As he beheld them from the region cold
  Coming with cloud, with whirlwind, and with fire;

And such as thou shalt find them in his pages,
  Such were they here; saving that in their plumage
  John is with me, and differeth from him.

The interval between these four contained
  A chariot triumphal on two wheels,
  Which by a Griffin`s neck came drawn along;

And upward he extended both his wings
  Between the middle list and three and three,
  So that he injured none by cleaving it.

So high they rose that they were lost to sight;
  His limbs were gold, so far as he was bird,
  And white the others with vermilion mingled.

Not only Rome with no such splendid car
  E`er gladdened Africanus, or Augustus,
  But poor to it that of the Sun would be,--

That of the Sun, which swerving was burnt up
  At the importunate orison of Earth,
  When Jove was so mysteriously just.

Three maidens at the right wheel in a circle
  Came onward dancing; one so very red
  That in the fire she hardly had been noted.

The second was as if her flesh and bones
  Had all been fashioned out of emerald;
  The third appeared as snow but newly fallen.

And now they seemed conducted by the white,
  Now by the red, and from the song of her
  The others took their step, or slow or swift.

Upon the left hand four made holiday
  Vested in purple, following the measure
  Of one of them with three eyes m her head.

In rear of all the group here treated of
  Two old men I beheld, unlike in habit,
  But like in gait, each dignified and grave.

One showed himself as one of the disciples
  Of that supreme Hippocrates, whom nature
  Made for the animals she holds most dear;

Contrary care the other manifested,
  With sword so shining and so sharp, it caused
  Terror to me on this side of the river.

Thereafter four I saw of humble aspect,
  And behind all an aged man alone
  Walking in sleep with countenance acute.

And like the foremost company these seven
  Were habited; yet of the flower-de-luce
  No garland round about the head they wore,

But of the rose, and other flowers vermilion;
  At little distance would the sight have sworn
  That all were in a flame above their brows.

And when the car was opposite to me
  Thunder was heard; and all that folk august
  Seemed to have further progress interdicted,

There with the vanward ensigns standing still.


Purgatorio: Canto XXX


When the Septentrion of the highest heaven
  (Which never either setting knew or rising,
  Nor veil of other cloud than that of sin,

And which made every one therein aware
  Of his own duty, as the lower makes
  Whoever turns the helm to come to port)

Motionless halted, the veracious people,
  That came at first between it and the Griffin,
  Turned themselves to the car, as to their peace.

And one of them, as if by Heaven commissioned,
  Singing, "Veni, sponsa, de Libano"
  Shouted three times, and all the others after.

Even as the Blessed at the final summons
  Shall rise up quickened each one from his cavern,
  Uplifting light the reinvested flesh,

So upon that celestial chariot
  A hundred rose `ad vocem tanti senis,`
  Ministers and messengers of life eternal.

They all were saying, "Benedictus qui venis,"
  And, scattering flowers above and round about,
  "Manibus o date lilia plenis."

Ere now have I beheld, as day began,
  The eastern hemisphere all tinged with rose,
  And the other heaven with fair serene adorned;

And the sun`s face, uprising, overshadowed
  So that by tempering influence of vapours
  For a long interval the eye sustained it;

Thus in the bosom of a cloud of flowers
  Which from those hands angelical ascended,
  And downward fell again inside and out,

Over her snow-white veil with olive cinct
  Appeared a lady under a green mantle,
  Vested in colour of the living flame.

And my own spirit, that already now
  So long a time had been, that in her presence
  Trembling with awe it had not stood abashed,

Without more knowledge having by mine eyes,
  Through occult virtue that from her proceeded
  Of ancient love the mighty influence felt.

As soon as on my vision smote the power
  Sublime, that had already pierced me through
  Ere from my boyhood I had yet come forth,

To the left hand I turned with that reliance
  With which the little child runs to his mother,
  When he has fear, or when he is afflicted,

To say unto Virgilius: "Not a drachm
  Of blood remains in me, that does not tremble;
  I know the traces of the ancient flame."

But us Virgilius of himself deprived
  Had left, Virgilius, sweetest of all fathers,
  Virgilius, to whom I for safety gave me:

Nor whatsoever lost the ancient mother
  Availed my cheeks now purified from dew,
  That weeping they should not again be darkened.

"Dante, because Virgilius has departed
  Do not weep yet, do not weep yet awhile;
  For by another sword thou need`st must weep."

E`en as an admiral, who on poop and prow
  Comes to behold the people that are working
  In other ships, and cheers them to well-doing,

Upon the left hand border of the car,
  When at the sound I turned of my own name,
  Which of necessity is here recorded,

I saw the Lady, who erewhile appeared
  Veiled underneath the angelic festival,
  Direct her eyes to me across the river.

Although the veil, that from her head descended,
  Encircled with the foliage of Minerva,
  Did not permit her to appear distinctly,

In attitude still royally majestic
  Continued she, like unto one who speaks,
  And keeps his warmest utterance in reserve:

"Look at me well; in sooth I`m Beatrice!
  How didst thou deign to come unto the Mountain?
  Didst thou not know that man is happy here?"

Mine eyes fell downward into the clear fountain,
  But, seeing myself therein, I sought the grass,
  So great a shame did weigh my forehead down.

As to the son the mother seems superb,
  So she appeared to me; for somewhat bitter
  Tasteth the savour of severe compassion.

Silent became she, and the Angels sang
  Suddenly, "In te, Domine, speravi:"
  But beyond `pedes meos` did not pass.

Even as the snow among the living rafters
  Upon the back of Italy congeals,
  Blown on and drifted by Sclavonian winds,

And then, dissolving, trickles through itself
  Whene`er the land that loses shadow breathes,
  So that it seems a fire that melts a taper;

E`en thus was I without a tear or sigh,
  Before the song of those who sing for ever
  After the music of the eternal spheres.

But when I heard in their sweet melodies
  Compassion for me, more than had they said,
  "O wherefore, lady, dost thou thus upbraid him?"

The ice, that was about my heart congealed,
  To air and water changed, and in my anguish
  Through mouth and eyes came gushing from my breast.

She, on the right-hand border of the car
  Still firmly standing, to those holy beings
  Thus her discourse directed afterwards:

"Ye keep your watch in the eternal day,
  So that nor night nor sleep can steal from you
  One step the ages make upon their path;

Therefore my answer is with greater care,
  That he may hear me who is weeping yonder,
  So that the sin and dole be of one measure.

Not only by the work of those great wheels,
  That destine every seed unto some end,
  According as the stars are in conjunction,

But by the largess of celestial graces,
  Which have such lofty vapours for their rain
  That near to them our sight approaches not,

Such had this man become in his new life
  Potentially, that every righteous habit
  Would have made admirable proof in him;

But so much more malignant and more savage
  Becomes the land untilled and with bad seed,
  The more good earthly vigour it possesses.

Some time did I sustain him with my look;
  Revealing unto him my youthful eyes,
  I led him with me turned in the right way.

As soon as ever of my second age
  I was upon the threshold and changed life,
  Himself from me he took and gave to others.

When from the flesh to spirit I ascended,
  And beauty and virtue were in me increased,
  I was to him less dear and less delightful;

And into ways untrue he turned his steps,
  Pursuing the false images of good,
  That never any promises fulfil;

Nor prayer for inspiration me availed,
  By means of which in dreams and otherwise
  I called him back, so little did he heed them.

So low he fell, that all appliances
  For his salvation were already short,
  Save showing him the people of perdition.

For this I visited the gates of death,
  And unto him, who so far up has led him,
  My intercessions were with weeping borne.

God`s lofty fiat would be violated,
  If Lethe should be passed, and if such viands
  Should tasted be, withouten any scot

Of penitence, that gushes forth in tears."


Purgatorio: Canto XXXI


"O thou who art beyond the sacred river,"
  Turning to me the point of her discourse,
  That edgewise even had seemed to me so keen,

She recommenced, continuing without pause,
  "Say, say if this be true; to such a charge,
  Thy own confession needs must be conjoined."

My faculties were in so great confusion,
  That the voice moved, but sooner was extinct
  Than by its organs it was set at large.

Awhile she waited; then she said: "What thinkest?
  Answer me; for the mournful memories
  In thee not yet are by the waters injured."

Confusion and dismay together mingled
  Forced such a Yes! from out my mouth, that sight
  Was needful to the understanding of it.

Even as a cross-bow breaks, when `tis discharged
  Too tensely drawn the bowstring and the bow,
  And with less force the arrow hits the mark,

So I gave way beneath that heavy burden,
  Outpouring in a torrent tears and sighs,
  And the voice flagged upon its passage forth.

Whence she to me: "In those desires of mine
  Which led thee to the loving of that good,
  Beyond which there is nothing to aspire to,

What trenches lying traverse or what chains
  Didst thou discover, that of passing onward
  Thou shouldst have thus despoiled thee of the hope?

And what allurements or what vantages
  Upon the forehead of the others showed,
  That thou shouldst turn thy footsteps unto them?"

After the heaving of a bitter sigh,
  Hardly had I the voice to make response,
  And with fatigue my lips did fashion it.

Weeping I said: "The things that present were
  With their false pleasure turned aside my steps,
  Soon as your countenance concealed itself."

And she: "Shouldst thou be silent, or deny
  What thou confessest, not less manifest
  Would be thy fault, by such a Judge `tis known.

But when from one`s own cheeks comes bursting forth
  The accusal of the sin, in our tribunal
  Against the edge the wheel doth turn itself.

But still, that thou mayst feel a greater shame
  For thy transgression, and another time
  Hearing the Sirens thou mayst be more strong,

Cast down the seed of weeping and attend;
  So shalt thou hear, how in an opposite way
  My buried flesh should have directed thee.

Never to thee presented art or nature
  Pleasure so great as the fair limbs wherein
  I was enclosed, which scattered are in earth.

And if the highest pleasure thus did fail thee
  By reason of my death, what mortal thing
  Should then have drawn thee into its desire?

Thou oughtest verily at the first shaft
  Of things fallacious to have risen up
  To follow me, who was no longer such.

Thou oughtest not to have stooped thy pinions downward
  To wait for further blows, or little girl,
  Or other vanity of such brief use.

The callow birdlet waits for two or three,
  But to the eyes of those already fledged,
  In vain the net is spread or shaft is shot."

Even as children silent in their shame
  Stand listening with their eyes upon the ground,
  And conscious of their fault, and penitent;

So was I standing; and she said: "If thou
  In hearing sufferest pain, lift up thy beard
  And thou shalt feel a greater pain in seeing."

With less resistance is a robust holm
  Uprooted, either by a native wind
  Or else by that from regions of Iarbas,

Than I upraised at her command my chin;
  And when she by the beard the face demanded,
  Well I perceived the venom of her meaning.

And as my countenance was lifted up,
  Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful
  Had rested from the strewing of the flowers;

Source
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