Canto XXIII

English Edition, translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

1   The while among the verdant leaves mine eyes
2   I riveted, as he is wont to do
3   Who wastes his lifc pursuing little birds,
 
4   My more than Father said unto me: Son
5   Come now; because the time that is ordained us
6   More usefully should be apportioned out.
 
7   I turned my face and no less soon my steps
8   Unto the Sages, who were speaking so
9   They made the going of no cost to me;
 
10   And lo! were heard a song and a lament,
11   Labia mea, Domine, in fashion
12   Such that delight and dolence it brought forth.
 
13   O my sweet Father, what is this I hear?
14   Began I; and he answered: Shades that go
15   Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt.
 
16   In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do,
17   Who, unknown people on the road o’ertaking,
18   Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop,
 
19   Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion
20   Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us
21   A crowd of spirits silent and devout.
 
22   Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous,
23   Pallid in face, and so emaciate
24   That from the bones the skin did shape itself.
 
25   I do not think that so to merest rind
26   Could Erisichthon have been withered up
27   By famine, when most fear he had of it.
 
28   Thinking within myself I sald: Behold,
29   This is the folk who lost Jerusalem,
30   When Mary made a prey of her own son.
 
31   Their sockets were like rings without the gems;
32   Whoever in the face of men reads omo
33   Might well in these have recognised the m.
 
34   Who would believe the odour of an apple,
35   Begetting longing, could consume them so,
36   And that of water, without knowing how?
 
37   I still was wondering what so famished them,
38   For the occasion not yet manifest
39   Of their emaciation and sad squalor;
 
40   And lo! from out the hollow of his head
41   His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly;
42   Then cried aloud: What grace to me is this?
 
43   Never should I have known him by his look;
44   But in his voice was evident to me
45   That which his aspect had suppressed within it.
 
46   This spark within me wholly re-enkindled
47   My recognition of his altered face,
48   And I recalled the features of Forese.
 
49   Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy,
50   Entreated he, which doth my skin discolour,
51   Nor at default of flesh that I may have;
 
52   But tell me truth of thee, and who are those
53   Two souls, that yonder make for thee an escort;
54   Do not delay in speaking unto me.
 
55   That face of thine, which dead I once bewept,
56   Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief,
57   I answered him, beholding it so changed!
 
58   But tell me, for God’s sake, what thus denudes you?
59   Make me not speak while I am marvelling,
60   For ill speaks he who’s full of other longings.
 
61   And he to me: From the eternal council
62   Falls power into the water and the tree
63   Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin.
 
64   All of this people who lamenting sing,
65   For following beyond measure appetite
66   In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified.
 
67   Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us
68   The scent that issues from the apple-tree,
69   And from the spray that sprinkles o’er the verdure;
 
70   And not a single time alone, this ground
71   Encompassing, is refreshed our pain,–
72   I say our pain, and ought to say our solace,
 
73   For the same wish doth lead us to the tree
74   Which led the Christ rejoicing to say Eli,
75   When with his veins he liberated us.
 
76   And I to him: Forese, from that day
77   When for a better life thou changedst worlds,
78   Up to this time five years have not rolled round.
 
79   If sooner were the power exhausted in thee
80   Of sinning more, than thee the hour surprised
81   Of that good sorrow which to God reweds us,
 
82   How hast thou come up hitherward already?
83   I thought to find thee down there underneath,
84   Where time for time doth restitution make.
 
85   And he to me: Thus speedily has led me
86   To drink of the sweet wormwood of these torrnents,
87   My Nella with her overflowing tears;
 
88   She with her prayers devout and with her sighs
89   Has drawn me from the coast where one where one awaits,
90   And from the other circles set me free.
 
91   So much more dear and pleasing is to God
92   My little widow, whom so much I loved,
93   As in good works she is the more alone;
 
94   For the Barbagia of Sardinia
95   By far more modest in its women is
96   Than the Barbagia I have left her in.
 
97   O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say?
98   A future time is in my sight already,
99   To which this hour will not be very old,
 
100   When from the pulpit shall be interdicted
101   To the unblushing womankind of Florence
102   To go about displaying breast and paps.
 
103   What savages were e’er, what Saracens,
104   Who stood in need, to make them covered go,
105   Of spiritual or other discipline?
 
106   But if the shameless women were assured
107   Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already
108   Wide open would they have their mouths to howl;
 
109   For if my foresight here deceive me not,
110   They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks
111   Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby.
 
112   O brother, now no longer hide thee from me;
113   See that not only I, but all these people
114   Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun.
 
115   Whence I to him: If thou bring back to mind
116   What thou with me hast been and I with thee,
117   The present memory will be grievous still.
 
118   Out of that life he turned me back who goes
119   In front of me, two days agone when round
120   The sister of him yonder showed herself,
 
121   And to the sun I pointed.Through the deep
122   Night of the truly dead has this one led me,
123   With this true flesh, that follows after him.
 
124   Thence his encouragements have led me up,
125   Ascending and still circling round the mount
126   That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked.
 
127   He says that he will bear me company,
128   Till I shall be where Beatrice will be;
129   There it behoves me to remain without him.
 
130   This is Virgilius, who thus says to me,
131   And him I pointed at;the other is
132   That shade for whom just now shook every slope
 
133   Your realm, that from itself discharges him.