| PURGATORIO CANTO 15 Mandelbaum Tr. and Longfellow Tr. | Notes | Ann. |
As many as the hours in which the sphere that's always playing like a child appears from daybreak to the end of the third hour, AS much as 'twixt the close of the third hour And dawn of day appeareth of that sphere Which aye in fashion of a child is playing, |
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so many were the hours of light still left before the course of day had reached sunset; vespers was there; and where we are, midnight. So much it now appeared, towards the night, Was of his course remaining to the sun; There it was evening, and 'twas midnight here; |
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When sunlight struck directly at our faces, for we had circled so much of the mountain that now we headed straight into the west, And the rays smote the middle of our faces, Because by us the mount was so encircled, That straight towards the west we now were going |
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then I could feel my vision overcome by radiance greater than I'd sensed before, and unaccounted things left me amazed; When I perceived my forehead overpowered Beneath the splendour far more than at first, And stupor were to me the things unknown, |
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at which, that they might serve me as a shade, I lifted up my hands above my brow, to limit some of that excessive splendor. Whereat towards the summit of my brow I raised my hands, and made myself the visor Which the excessive glare diminishes. |
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As when a ray of light, from water or a mirror, leaps in the opposed direction and rises at an angle equal to As when from off the water, or a mirror, The sunbeam leaps unto the opposite side, Ascending upward in the selfsame measure |
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its angle of descent, and to each side the distance from the vertical is equal, as science and experiment have shown; That it descends, and deviates as far From falling of a stone in line direct, (As demonstrate experiment and art,) |
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so did it seem to me that I had been struck there by light reflected, facing me, at which my eyes turned elsewhere rapidly. So it appeared to me that by a light Refracted there before me I was smitten; On which account my sight was swift to flee. |
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"Kind father, what is that against which I have tried in vain," I said, "to screen my eyes? It seems to move toward us." And he replied: "What is that, Father sweet, from which I cannot So fully screen my sight that it avail me," Said I, "and seems towards us to be moving ?" |
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"Don't wonder if you are still dazzled by the family of Heaven: a messenger has come, and he invites us to ascend. "Marvel thou not, if dazzle thee as yet The family of heaven," he answered me; "An angel 'tis, who comes to invite us upward. |
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Soon, in the sight of such things, there will be no difficulty for you, but delight- as much as nature fashioned you to feel." Soon will it be, that to behold these things Shall not be grievous, but delightful to thee As much as nature fashioned thee to feel." |
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No sooner had we reached the blessed angel than with glad voice he told us: "Enter here; these are less steep than were the other stairs." When we had reached the Angel benedight, With joyful voice he said: "Here enter in To stairway far less steep than are the others." |
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We climbed, already past that point; behind us, we heard "Beati misericordes" sung and then "Rejoice, you who have overcome." We mounting were, already thence departed, And "Beati misericordes" was Behind us sung, "Rejoice, thou that o'ercomest!" |
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I and my master journeyed on alone, we two together, upward; as we walked, I thought I'd gather profit from his words; My Master and myself, we two alone Were going upward, and I thought, in going, Some profit to acquire from words of his; |
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and even as I turned toward him, I asked: "What did the spirit of Romagna mean when he said, 'Sharing cannot have a part'?" And I to him directed me, thus asking: "What did the spirit of Romagna mean, Mentioning interdict and partnership ?" |
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And his reply: "He knows the harm that lies in his worst vice; if he chastises it, to ease its expiation-do not wonder. Whence he to me: "Of his own greatest failing He knows the harm; and therefore wonder not If he reprove us, that we less may rue it |
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For when your longings center on things such that sharing them apportions less to each, then envy stirs the bellows of your sighs. Because are thither pointed your desires Where by companionship each share is lessened, Envy doth ply the bellows to your sighs. |
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But if the love within the Highest Sphere should turn your longings heavenward, the fear inhabiting your breast would disappear; But if the love of the supernal sphere Should upwardly direct your aspiration, There would not be that fear within your breast; |
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for there, the more there are who would say 'ours,' so much the greater is the good possessed by each-so much more love burns in that cloister." For there, as much the more as one says Our, So much the more of good each one possesses, And more of charity in that cloister burns." |
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"I am more hungry now for satisfaction" I said, "than if I'd held my tongue before; I host a deeper doubt within my mind. "I am more hungering to be satisfied," I said, "than if I had before been silent, And more of doubt within my mind I gather. |
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How can a good that's shared by more possessors enable each to be more rich in it than if that good had been possessed by few?" How can it be, that boon distributed The more possessors can more wealthy make Therein, than if by few it be possessed ?" |
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And he to me: "But if you still persist in letting your mind fix on earthly things, then even from true light you gather darkness. And he to me: "Because thou fixest still Thy mind entirely upon earthly things, Thou pluckest darkness from the very light. |
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That Good, ineffable and infinite, which is above, directs Itself toward love as light directs itself to polished bodies. That goodness infinite and ineffable Which is above there, runneth unto love, As to a lucid body comes the sunbeam. |
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Where ardor is, that Good gives of Itself; and where more love is, there that Good confers a greater measure of eternal worth. So much it gives itself as it finds ardour, So that as far as charity extends, O'er it increases the eternal valour. |
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And when there are more souls above who love, there's more to love well there, and they love more, and, mirror-like, each soul reflects the other. And the more people thitherward aspire, More are there to love well, and more they love there, And, as a mirror, one reflects the other. |
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And if my speech has not appeased your hunger, you will see Beatrice-she will fulfill this and all other longings that you feel. And if my reasoning appease thee not, Thou shalt see Beatrice; and she will fully Take from thee this and every other longing. |
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Now only strive, so that the other five wounds may be canceled quickly, as the two already are-the wounds contrition heals." Endeavour, then, that soon may be extinct, As are the two already, the five wounds That close themselves again by being painful." |
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But wanting then to say, "You have appeased me," I saw that I had reached another circle, and my desiring eyes made me keep still. Even as I wished to say, "Thou dost appease me," I saw that I had reached another circle, So that my eager eyes made me keep silence. |
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There I seemed, suddenly, to be caught up in an ecstatic vision and to see some people in a temple; and a woman There it appeared to me that in a vision Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt, And in a temple many persons saw; |
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just at the threshold, in the gentle manner that mothers use, was saying: "O my son, why have you done this to us? You can see And at the door a woman, with the sweet Behaviour of a mother, saying: "Son, Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us ? |
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how we have sought you-sorrowing, your father and I." And at this point, as she fell still, what had appeared at first now disappeared. Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself Were seeking for thee ;" -- and as here she cease That which appeared at first had disappeared. |
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Then there appeared to me another woman: upon her cheeks-the tears that grief distills when it is born of much scorn for another. Then I beheld another with those waters Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever From great disdain of others it is born, |
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She said: "If you are ruler of that city to name which even goddesses once vied- where every science had its source of light- And saying: "If of that city thou art lord, For whose name was such strife among the gods And whence doth every science scintillate, |
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revenge yourself on the presumptuous arms that embraced our daughter, o Pisistratus." And her lord seemed to me benign and mild, Avenge thyself on those audacious arms That clasped our daughter, O Pisistratus ," And the lord seemed to me benign and mild |
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his aspect temperate, as he replied: "What shall we do to one who'd injure us if one who loves us earns our condemnation?" To answer her with aspect temperate: "What shall we do to those who wish us ill, If he who loves us be by us condemned ?" |
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Next I saw people whom the fire of wrath had kindled, as they stoned a youth and kept on shouting loudly to each other: "Kill!" Then saw I people hot in fire of wrath, With stones a young man slaying, clamorously Still crying to each other, "Kill him! kill him!" |
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"Kill!" "Kill!" I saw him now, weighed down by death, sink to the ground, although his eyes were bent always on Heaven-they were Heaven's gates- And him I saw bow down, because of death That weighed already on him, to the earth, But of his eyes made ever gates to heaven, |
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praying to his high Lord, despite the torture, to pardon those who were his persecutors; his look was such that it unlocked compassion. Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife, That he would pardon those his persecutors, With such an aspect as unlocks compassion. |
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And when my soul returned outside itself and met the things outside it that are real, I then could recognize my not false errors. Soon as my soul had outwardly returned To things external to it which are true, Did I my not false errors recognize. |
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My guide, on seeing me behave as if I were a man who's freed himself from sleep, said: "What is wrong with you? You can't walk straight; My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: "What ails thee, that thou canst not stand ? |
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for more than half a league now you have moved with clouded eyes and lurching legs, as if you were a man whom wine or sleep has gripped!" But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues ? ' |
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"Oh, my kind father, if you hear me out, I'll tell you what appeared to me," I said, "when I had lost the right use of my legs." "O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I'll tell thee," said I, "what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta'en away." |
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And he: "Although you had a hundred masks upon your face, that still would not conceal from me the thoughts you thought, however slight. And he: "If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut Thy cogitations, howsoever small. |
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What you have seen was shown lest you refuse to open up your heart unto the waters of peace that pour from the eternal fountain. What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace Which from the eternal fountain are diffused. |
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I did not ask 'What's wrong with you?' as one who only sees with earthly eyes, which-once the body, stripped of soul, lies dead-can't see; I did not ask, ' What ails thee ?' as he does Who only looketh with the eyes that see not When of the soul bereft the body lies, |
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I asked so that your feet might find more force: so must one urge the indolent, too slow to use their waking time when it returns." But asked it to give vigour to thy feet; Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow To use their wakefulness when it returns." |
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We made our way until the end of vespers, peering, as far ahead as sight could stretch, at rays of light that, although late, were bright. We passed along, athwart the twilight peering Forward as far as ever eye could stretch Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent; |
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But, gradually, smoke as black as night began to overtake us; and there was no place where we could have avoided it. And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached In our direction, sombre as the night, Nor was there place to hide one's self therefrom. |
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This smoke deprived us of pure air and sight. This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us. |
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