English Edition, translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
| 1 | WHO is this one that goes about our mountain, |
| 2 | Or ever Death has given him power of flight, |
| 3 | And opes his eyes and shuts them at his will? |
| 4 | I know not who, but know he’s not alone; |
| 5 | Ask him thyself, for thou art nearer to him, |
| 6 | And gently, so that he may speak, accost him. |
| 7 | Thus did two spirits, leaning tow’rds each other, |
| 8 | Discourse about me there on the right hand; |
| 9 | Then held supine their faces to address me. |
| 10 | And said the one: O soul, that, fastened still |
| 11 | Within the body, tow’rds the heaven art going, |
| 12 | For charity console us, and declare |
| 13 | Whence comest and who art thou;for thou mak’st us |
| 14 | As much to marvel at this grace of thine |
| 15 | As must a thing that never yet has been. |
| 16 | And I: Through midst of Tuscany there wanders |
| 17 | A streamlet that is born in Falterona, |
| 18 | And not a hundred miles of course suffice it; |
| 19 | From thereupon do I this body bring. |
| 20 | To tell you who I am were speech in vain, |
| 21 | Because my name as yet makes no great noise. |
| 22 | If well thy meaning I can penetrate |
| 23 | With intellect of mine, then answered me |
| 24 | He who first spake, thou speakest of the Arno. |
| 25 | And said the other to him: Why concealed |
| 26 | This one the appellation of that river, |
| 27 | Even as a man doth of things horrible? |
| 28 | And thus the shade that questioned was of this |
| 29 | Himself acquitted: I know not; but truly |
| 30 | ‘Tis fit the name of such a vallev perish: |
| 31 | For from its fountain-head where is so pregnant |
| 32 | The Alpine mountain whence is cleft Peloro |
| 33 | That in few places it that mark surpasses |
| 34 | To where it yields itself in restoration |
| 35 | Of what the heaven doth of the sea dry up. |
| 36 | Whence have the rivers that which goes with them, |
| 37 | Virtue is like an enemy avoided |
| 38 | By all, as is a serpent, through misfortune |
| 39 | Of place, or through bad habit that impels them; |
| 40 | On which account have so transformed their nature |
| 41 | The dwellers in that miserable valley, |
| 42 | It seems that Circe had them in her pasture. |
| 43 | ‘Mid ugly swine, of acorns worthier |
| 44 | Than other food for human use created, |
| 45 | It first directeth its impoverished way. |
| 46 | Curs findeth it thereafter, coming downward, |
| 47 | More snarling than their puissance demands, |
| 48 | And turns from them disdainfully its muzzle. |
| 49 | It goes on falling, and the more it grows, |
| 50 | The more it finds the dogs becoming wolves, |
| 51 | This maledict and misadventurous ditch. |
| 52 | Descended then through many a hollow gulf, |
| 53 | It finds the foxes so replete with fraud, |
| 54 | They fear no cunning that may master them. |
| 55 | Nor will I cease because another hears me; |
| 56 | And well ’twill be for him, if still he mind him |
| 57 | Of what a truthful spirit to me unravels. |
| 58 | Thy grandson I behold, who doth become |
| 59 | A hunter of those wolves upon the bank |
| 60 | Of the wild stream. and terrifies them all. |
| 61 | He sells their flesh, it being yet alive; |
| 62 | Thereafter slaughters them like ancient beeves . |
| 63 | Many of life, himself of praise, deprives. |
| 64 | Blood-stained he issues from the dismal forest; |
| 65 | He leaves it such, a thousand years from now |
| 66 | In its primeval state ’tis not re-wooded. |
| 67 | As at the announcement of impending ills |
| 68 | The face of him who listens is disturbed, |
| 69 | From whate’er side the peril seize upon him; |
| 70 | So I beheld that other soul, which stood |
| 71 | Turned round to listen, grow disturbed and sad, |
| 72 | When it had gathered to itself the word. |
| 73 | The speech of one and aspect of the other |
| 74 | Had me desirous made to know their names, |
| 75 | And question mixed with prayers I made thereof, |
| 76 | Whereat the spirit which first spake to me |
| 77 | Began again: Thou wishest I should bring me |
| 78 | To do for thee what thou’lt not do for me; |
| 79 | But since God willeth that in thee shine forth |
| 80 | Such grace of his, I’ll not be chary with thee; |
| 81 | Know, then, that I Guido del Duca am. |
| 82 | My blood was so with envy set on fire, |
| 83 | That if I had beheld a man make merry, |
| 84 | Thou wouldst have seen me sprinkled o’er with pallor. |
| 85 | From my own sowing such the straw I reap! |
| 86 | O human race ! why dost thou set thy heart |
| 87 | Where interdict of partnership must be? |
| 88 | This is Renier; this is the boast and honour |
| 89 | Of the house of Calboli, where no one since |
| 90 | Has made himself the heir of his desert. |
| 91 | And not alone his blood is made devoid, |
| 92 | ‘Twixt Po and mount, and sea-shore and the Reno, |
| 93 | Of good required for truth and for diversion; |
| 94 | For all within these boundaries is full |
| 95 | Of venomous roots, so that too tardily |
| 96 | By cultivation now would they diminish. |
| 97 | Where is good Lizio, and Arrigo Manardi, |
| 98 | Pier Traversaro, and Guido di Carpigna, |
| 99 | O Romagnuoli into bastards turned? |
| 100 | When in Bologna will a Fabbro rise? |
| 101 | When in Faenza a Bernardin di Fosco, |
| 102 | The noble scion of ignoble seed? |
| 103 | Be not astonished, Tuscan, if I weep |
| 104 | When I remember, with Guido da Prata, |
| 105 | Ugolin d’ Azzo, who was living with us, |
| 106 | Frederick Tignoso and his company |
| 107 | The house of Traversara, and th’ Anastagi, |
| 108 | And one race and the other is extinct. |
| 109 | The dames and cavaliers, the toils and ease |
| 110 | That filled our souls with love and courtesy, |
| 111 | There where the hearts have so malicious grown! |
| 112 | O Brettinoro! why dost thou not flee, |
| 113 | Seeing that all thy family is gone, |
| 114 | And many people, not to be corrupted? |
| 115 | Bagnacaval does well in not begetting |
| 116 | And ill does Castrocaro, and Conio worse, |
| 117 | In taking trouble to beget such Counts. |
| 118 | Will do well the Pagani, when their Devil |
| 119 | Shall have departed; but not therefore pure |
| 120 | Will testimony of them e’er remain. |
| 121 | O Ugolin de’ Fantoli, secure |
| 122 | Thy name is, since no longer is awaited |
| 123 | One who, degenerating, can obscure it! |
| 124 | But go now, Tuscan, for it now delights me |
| 125 | To weep far better than it does to speak, |
| 126 | So much has our discourse my mind distressed. |
| 127 | We were aware that those beloved souls |
| 128 | Heard us depart; therefore, by keeping silent, |
| 129 | They made us of our pathway confident. |
| 130 | When we became alone by going onward, |
| 131 | Thunder, when it doth cleave the air, appeared |
| 132 | A voice, that counter to us came, exclaiming: |
| 133 | Shall slay me whosoever findeth me! |
| 134 | And fled as the reverberation dies |
| 135 | If suddenly the cloud asunder bursts. |
| 136 | As soon as hearing had a truce from this, |
| 137 | Behold another, with so great a crash, |
| 138 | That it resembled thunderings following fast: |
| 139 | I am Aglaurus, who became a stone! |
| 140 | And then, to press myself close to the Poet, |
| 141 | I backward, and not forward, took a step. |
| 142 | Already on all sides the air was quiet; |
| 143 | And said he to me: That was the hard curb |
| 144 | That ought to hold a man within his bounds; |
| 145 | But you take in the bait so that the hook |
| 146 | Of the old Adversary draws you to him, |
| 147 | And hence availeth little curb or call. |
| 148 | The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you, |
| 149 | Displaying to you their eternal beauties, |
| 150 | And still your eye is looking on the ground; |
| 151 | Whence He who all discerns, chastises you. |