| PURGATORIO CANTO 11 Mandelbaum Tr. and Longfellow Tr. | Notes | Ann. |
"Our Father, You who dwell within the heavens- but are not circumscribed by them-out of Your greater love for Your first works above, "OUR Father, thou who dwellest in the heavens, Not circumscribed, but from the greater love Thou bearest to the first effects on high, |
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praised be Your name and Your omnipotence, by every creature, just as it is seemly to offer thanks to Your sweet effluence. Praised be thy name and thine omnipotence By every creature, as befitting is To render thanks to thy sweet effluence. |
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Your kingdom's peace come unto us, for if it does not come, then though we summon all our force, we cannot reach it of our selves. Come unto us the peace of thy dominion, For unto it we cannot of ourselves, If it come not, with all our intellect. |
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Just as Your angels, as they sing Hosanna, offer their wills to You as sacrifice, so may men offer up their wills to You. Even as thine own Angels of their will Make sacrifice to thee, Hosanna singing, So may all men make sacrifice of theirs. |
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Give unto us this day the daily manna without which he who labors most to move ahead through this harsh wilderness falls back. Give unto us this day our daily manna, Withouten which in this rough wilderness Backward goes he who toils most to advance. |
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Even as we forgive all who have done us injury, may You, benevolent, forgive, and do not judge us by our worth. And even as we the trespass we have suffered Pardon in one another, pardon thou Benignly, and regard not our desert. |
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Try not our strength, so easily subdued, against the ancient foe, but set it free from him who goads it to perversity. Our virtue, which is easily o'ercome, Put not to proof with the old Adversary, But thou from him who spurs it so, deliver. |
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This last request we now address to You, dear Lord, not for ourselves-who have no need- but for the ones whom we have left behind." This last petition verily, dear Lord, Not for ourselves is made, who need it not, But for their sake who have remained behind us." |
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Beseeching, thus, good penitence for us and for themselves, those shades moved on beneath their weights, like those we sometimes bear in dreams- Thus for themselves and us good furtherance Those shades imploring, went beneath a weight Like unto that of which we sometimes dream, |
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each in his own degree of suffering but all, exhausted, circling the first terrace, purging themselves of this world's scoriae. Unequally in anguish round and round And weary all, upon that foremost cornice, Purging away the smoke-stains of the world |
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If there they pray on our behalf, what can be said and done here on this earth for them by those whose wills are rooted in true worth? If there good words are always said for us, What may not here be said and done for them, By those who have a good root to their will? |
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Indeed we should help them to wash away the stains they carried from this world, so that, made pure and light, they reach the starry wheels. Well may we help them wash away the marks That hence they carried, so that clean and light They may ascend unto the starry wheels! |
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"Ah, so may justice and compassion soon unburden you, so that your wings may move as you desire them to, and uplift you, "Ah! so may pity and justice you disburden Soon, that ye may have power to move the wing, That shall uplift you after your desire, |
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show us on which hand lies the shortest path to reach the stairs; if there is more than one passage, then show us that which is less steep; Show us on which hand tow'rd the stairs the way Is shortest, and if more than one the passes, Point us out that which least abruptly falls; |
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for he who comes with me, because he wears the weight of Adam's flesh as dress, despite his ready will, is slow in his ascent." For he who cometh with me, through the burden Of Adam's flesh wherewith he is invested, Against his will is chary of his climbing." |
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These words, which had been spoken by my guide, were answered by still other words we heard; for though it was not clear who had replied, The words of theirs which they returned to those That he whom I was following had spoken, It was not manifest from whom they came, |
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an answer came: "Come with us to the right along the wall of rock, and you will find a pass where even one alive can climb. But it was said: "To the right hand come with us Along the bank, and ye shall find a pass Possible for living person to ascend. |
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And were I not impeded by the stone that, since it has subdued my haughty neck, compels my eyes to look below, then I And were I not impeded by the stone, Which this proud neck of mine doth subjugate, Whence I am forced to hold my visage down, |
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should look at this man who is still alive and nameless, to see if I recognize him-and to move his pity for my burden. Him, who still lives and does not name himself, Would I regard, to see if I may know him And make him piteous unto this burden. |
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I was Italian, son of a great Tuscan: my father was Guiglielmo Aldobrandesco; I do not know if you have heard his name. A Latian was I, and born of a great Tuscan; Guglielmo Aldobrandeschi was my father; I know not if his name were ever with you. |
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The ancient blood and splendid deeds of my forefathers made me so presumptuous that, without thinking on our common mother, The ancient blood and deeds of gallantry Of my progenitors so arrogant made me That, thinking not upon the common mother, |
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I scorned all men past measure, and that scorn brought me my death-the Sienese know how, as does each child in Campagnatico. All men I held in scorn to such extent I died therefor, as know the Sienese, And every child in Campagnatico. |
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I am Omberto; and my arrogance has not harmed me alone, for it has drawn all of my kin into calamity. I am Omberto; and not to me alone Has pride done harm, but all my kith and kin Has with it dragged into adversity. |
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Until God has been satisfied, I bear this burden here among the dead because I did not bear this load among the living." And here must I this burden bear for it Till God be satisfied, since I did not Among the living, here among the dead." |
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My face was lowered as I listened; and one of those souls-not he who'd spoken-twisted himself beneath the weight that burdened them; Listening I downward bent my countenance; And one of them, not this one who was speaking, Twisted himself beneath the weight that cramps him, |
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he saw and knew me and called out to me, fixing his eyes on me laboriously as I, completely hunched, walked on with them. And looked at me, and knew me, and called out, Keeping his eyes laboriously fixed On me, who all bowed down was going with them. |
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"Oh," I cried out, "are you not Oderisi, glory of Gubbio, glory of that art they call illumination now in Paris?" "O," asked I him," art thou not Oderisi, Agobbio's honour, and honour of that art Which is in Paris called illuminating?" |
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"Brother," he said, "the pages painted by the brush of Franco Bolognese smile more brightly: all the glory now is his; "Brother," said he, "more laughing are the leaves Touched by the brush of Franco Bolognese; All his the honour now, and mine in part. |
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mine, but a part. In truth I would have been less gracious when I lived-so great was that desire for eminence which drove my heart. In sooth I had not been so courteous While I was living, for the great desire Of excellence, on which my heart was bent. |
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For such pride, here one pays the penalty; and I'd not be here yet, had it not been that, while I still could sin, I turned to Him. Here of such pride is paid the forfeiture; And yet I should not be here, were it not That, having power to sin, I turned to God. |
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O empty glory of the powers of humans! How briefly green endures upon the peak- unless an age of dullness follows it. O thou vain glory of the human powers, How little green upon thy summit lingers, If 't be not followed by an age of grossness! |
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In painting Cimabue thought he held the field, and now it's Giotto they acclaim- the former only keeps a shadowed fame. In painting Cimabue thought that he Should hold the field, now Giotto has the cry, So that the other's fame is growing dim. |
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So did one Guido, from the other, wrest the glory of our tongue-and he perhaps is born who will chase both out of the nest. So has one Guido from the other taken The glory of our tongue, and he perchance Is born, who from the nest shall chase them both. |
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Worldly renown is nothing other than a breath of wind that blows now here, now there, and changes name when it has changed its course. Naught is this mundane rumour but a breath Of wind, that comes now this way and now that, And changes name, because it changes side. |
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Before a thousand years have passed-a span that, for eternity, is less space than an eyeblink for the slowest sphere in heaven- What fame shalt thou have more, if old peel off From thee thy flesh, than if thou hadst been dead Before thou left the pappo and the dindi, |
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would you find greater glory if you left your flesh when it was old than if your death had come before your infant words were spent? Ere pass a thousand years ? which is a shorter Space to the eterne, than twinkling of an eye Unto the circle that in heaven wheels slowest. |
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All Tuscany acclaimed his name-the man who moves so slowly on the path before me, and now they scarcely whisper of him even With him, who takes so little of the road In front of me, all Tuscany resounded; And now he scarce is lisped of in Siena, |
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in Siena, where he lorded it when they destroyed the raging mob of Florence-then as arrogant as now it's prostitute. Where he was lord, what time was overthrown The Florentine delirium, that superb Was at that day as now 'tis prostitute. |
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Your glory wears the color of the grass that comes and goes; the sun that makes it wither first drew it from the ground, still green and tender." Your reputation is the colour of grass Which comes and goes, and that discolours it By which it issues green from out the earth." |
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And I to him: "Your truthful speech has filled my soul with sound humility, abating my overswollen pride; but who is he And I: "Thy true speech fills my heart with good Humility, and great tumour thou assuagest; But who is he, of whom just now thou spakest ?" |
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of whom you spoke now?" "Provenzan Salvani, he answered, "here because-presumptuously-" he thought his grip could master all Siena. "That," he replied, "is Provenzan Salvani, And he is here because he had presumed To bring Siena all into his hands. |
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So he has gone, and so he goes, with no rest since his death; this is the penalty exacted from those who-there-overreached." He has gone thus, and goeth without rest E'er since he died; such money renders back In payment he who is on earth too daring." |
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And I: "But if a spirit who awaits the edge of life before repenting must- unless good prayers help him-stay below And I: "If every spirit who awaits The verge of life before that he repent, Remains below there and ascends not hither, |
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and not ascend here for as long a time as he had spent alive, do tell me how Salvani's entry here has been allowed." Unless good orison shall him bestead,) Until as much time as he lived be passed, How was the coming granted him in largess ?" |
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"When he was living in his greatest glory" said he, "then of his own free will he set aside all shame and took his place upon "When he in greatest splendour lived," said he, "Freely upon the Campo of Siena, All shame being laid aside, he placed himself; |
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the Campo of Siena; there, to free his friend from suffering in Charles's prison, humbling himself, he trembled in each vein. And there to draw his friend from the duress Which in the prison-house of Charles he suffered, He brought himself to tremble in each vein. |
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I say no more; I know I speak obscurely; but soon enough you'll find your neighbor's acts are such that what I say can be explained. I say no more, and know that I speak darkly; Yet little time shall pass before thy neighbours Will so demean themselves that thou canst gloss it. |
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This deed delivered him from those confines." This action has released him from those confines." |
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