| PURGATORIO CANTO 23 Mandelbaum Tr. and Longfellow Tr. | Notes | Ann. |
While I was peering so intently through the green boughs, like a hunter who, so used, would waste his life in chasing after birds, THE while among the verdant leaves mine eyes I riveted, as he is wont to do Who wastes his lifc pursuing little birds, |
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my more than father said to me: "Now come, son, for the time our journey can permit is to be used more fruitfully than this." My more than Father said unto me: "Son Come now; because the time that is ordained us More usefully should be apportioned out." |
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I turned my eyes, and I was no less quick to turn my steps; I followed those two sages, whose talk was such, my going brought no loss. I turned my face and no less soon my steps Unto the Sages, who were speaking so They made the going of no cost to me; |
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And-there!-"Labia mea, Domine" was wept and sung and heard in such a manner that it gave birth to both delight and sorrow. And lo! were heard a song and a lament, "Labia mea, Domine," in fashion Such that delight and dolence it brought forth. |
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"O gentle father, what is this I hear?" I asked. And he: "Perhaps they're shades who go loosening the knot of what they owe." "O my sweet Father, what is this I hear ?" Began I; and he answered: "Shades that go Perhaps the knot unloosing of their debt." |
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Even as pensive pilgrims do, who when they've overtaken folk unknown to them along the way, will turn but will not stop, In the same way that thoughtful pilgrims do, Who, unknown people on the road o'ertaking, Turn themselves round to them, and do not stop, |
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so, overtaking us-they had come from behind but were more swift-a crowd of souls, devout and silent, looked at us in wonder. Even thus, behind us with a swifter motion Coming and passing onward, gazed upon us A crowd of spirits silent and devout. |
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Each shade had dark and hollow eyes; their faces were pale and so emaciated that their taut skin took its shape from bones beneath. Each in his eyes was dark and cavernous, Pallid in face, and so emaciate That from the bones the skin did shape itself. |
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I don't believe that even Erysichthon had been so dried, down to his very hide, by hunger, when his fast made him fear most. I do not think that so to merest rind Could Erisichthon have been withered up By famine, when most fear he had of it. |
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Thinking, I told myself: "I see the people who lost Jerusalem, when Mary plunged her beak into her son." The orbits of Thinking within myself I sald: "Behold, This is the folk who lost Jerusalem, When Mary made a prey of her own son." |
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their eyes seemed like a ring that's lost its gems; and he who, in the face of man, would read OMO would here have recognized the M. Their sockets were like rings without the gems; Whoever in the face of men reads omo Might well in these have recognised the m. |
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Who-if he knew not how-would have believed that longing born from odor of a tree, odor of water, could reduce souls so? Who would believe the odour of an apple, Begetting longing, could consume them so, And that of water, without knowing how ? |
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I was already wondering what had so famished them (for I had not yet learned the reason for their leanness and sad scurf), I still was wondering what so famished them, For the occasion not yet manifest Of their emaciation and sad squalor; |
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when-there!-a shade, his eyes deep in his head, turned toward me, staring steadily; and then he cried aloud: "What grace is granted me!" And lo! from out the hollow of his head His eyes a shade turned on me, and looked keenly; Then cried aloud: "What grace to me is this ?" |
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I never would have recognized him by his face; and yet his voice made plain to me what his appearance had obliterated. Never should I have known him by his look; But in his voice was evident to me That which his aspect had suppressed within it. |
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This spark rekindled in me everything I knew about those altered features; thus, I realized it was Forese's face. This spark within me wholly re-enkindled My recognition of his altered face, And I recalled the features of Forese. |
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"Ah, don't reproach me for the dried-out scabs that stain my skin," he begged, "nor for the lack of flesh on me; but do tell me the truth "Ah, do not look at this dry leprosy," Entreated he,"which doth my skin discolour, Nor at default of flesh that I may have; |
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about yourself, do tell me who those two souls there are, those who are escorting you; may you not keep yourself from speaking to me!" But tell me truth of thee, and who are those Two souls, that yonder make for thee an escort; Do not delay in speaking unto me." |
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"Your face, which I once wept on when you died," I answered him, "now gives me no less cause for sad lament, seeing you so deformed "That face of thine, which dead I once bewept, Gives me for weeping now no lesser grief," I answered him, "beholding it so changed! |
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But tell me, for God's sake, what has unleaved you so; don't make me speak while I'm amazed- he who's distracted answers clumsily." But tell me, for God's sake, what thus denudes you ? Make me not speak while I am marvelling, For ill speaks he who's full of other longings." |
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And he to me: "From the eternal counsel, the water and the tree you left behind receive the power that makes me waste away. And he to me: "From the eternal council Falls power into the water and the tree Behind us left, whereby I grow so thin. |
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All of these souls who, grieving, sing because their appetite was gluttonous, in thirst and hunger here resanctify themselves. All of this people who lamenting sing, For following beyond measure appetite In hunger and thirst are here re-sanctified. |
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The fragrance of the fruit and of the water that's sprayed through that green tree kindles in us craving for food and drink; and not once only, Desire to eat and drink enkindles in us The scent that issues from the apple-tree, And from the spray that sprinkles o'er the verdure; |
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as we go round this space, our pain's renewed- I speak of pain but I should speak of solace, for we are guided to those trees by that And not a single time alone, this ground Encompassing, is refreshed our pain, -- I say our pain, and ought to say our solace, -- |
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same longing that had guided Christ when He had come to free us through the blood He shed and, in His joyousness, called out: 'Eli.'" For the same wish doth lead us to the tree Which led the Christ rejoicing to say Eli, When with his veins he liberated us." |
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And I to him: "Forese, from that day when you exchanged the world for better life until now, less than five years have revolved; And I to him: "Forese, from that day When for a better life thou changedst worlds, Up to this time five years have not rolled round. |
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and if you waited for the moment when the power to sin was gone before you found the hour of the good grief that succors us If sooner were the power exhausted in thee Of sinning more, than thee the hour surprised Of that good sorrow which to God reweds us, |
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and weds us once again to God, how have you come so quickly here? I thought to find you down below, where time must pay for time." How hast thou come up hitherward already? I thought to find thee down there underneath, Where time for time doth restitution make." |
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And he to me: "It is my Nella who, with her abundant tears, has guided me to drink the sweet wormwood of torments: she, And he to me: "Thus speedily has led me To drink of the sweet wormwood of these torments, My Nella with her overflowing tears; |
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with sighs and prayers devout has set me free of that slope where one waits and has freed me from circles underneath this circle. She- She with her prayers devout and with her sighs Has drawn me from the coast where one where one awaits, And from the other circles set me free. |
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my gentle widow, whom I loved most dearly- was all the more beloved and prized by God as she is more alone in her good works. So much more dear and pleasing is to God My little widow, whom so much I loved, As in good works she is the more alone; |
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For even the Barbagia of Sardinia is far more modest in its women than is that Barbagia where I left her. O For the Barbagia of Sardinia By far more modest in its women is Than the Barbagia I have left her in. |
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sweet brother, what would you have had me say? A future time's already visible to me-a time not too far-off from now- O brother sweet, what wilt thou have me say ? A future time is in my sight already, To which this hour will not be very old, |
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when, from the pulpit, it shall be forbidden to those immodest ones-Florentine women- to go displaying bosoms with bare paps. When from the pulpit shall be interdicted To the unblushing womankind of Florence To go about displaying breast and paps. |
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What ordinances-spiritual, civil- were ever needed by barbarian or Saracen women to make them go covered? What savages were e'er, what Saracens, Who stood in need, to make them covered go, Of spiritual or other discipline? |
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But if those shameless ones had certain knowledge of what swift Heaven's readying for them, then they would have mouths open now to howl; But if the shameless women were assured Of what swift Heaven prepares for them, already Wide open would they have their mouths to howl; |
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for if our foresight here does not deceive me, they will be sad before the cheeks of those whom lullabies can now appease grow beards. For if my foresight here deceive me not, They shall be sad ere he has bearded cheeks Who now is hushed to sleep with lullaby. |
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Ah, brother, do not hide things any longer! You see that I am not alone, for all these people stare at where you veil the sun." O brother, now no longer hide thee from me; See that not only I, but all these people Are gazing there, where thou dost veil the sun." |
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At this I said to him: "If you should call to mind what you have been with me and I with you, remembering now will still be heavy. Whence I to him: "If thou bring back to mind What thou with me hast been and I with thee, The present memory will be grievous still. |
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He who precedes me turned me from that life some days ago, when she who is the sister of him"-I pointed to the sun-"was showing Out of that life he turned me back who goes In front of me, two days agone when round The sister of him yonder showed herself," |
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her roundness to you. It is he who's led me through the deep night of the truly dead with this true flesh that follows after him. And to the sun I pointed. "Through the deep Night of the truly dead has this one led me, With this true flesh, that follows after him. |
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His help has drawn me up from there, climbing and circling round this mountain, which makes straight you whom the world made crooked. And he says Thence his encouragements have led me up, Ascending and still circling round the mount That you doth straighten, whom the world made crooked. |
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that he will bear me company until I reach the place where Beatrice is; there I must remain without him. It is Virgil He says that he will bear me company, Till I shall be where Beatrice will be; There it behoves me to remain without him. |
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who speaks to me in this way," and I pointed to him; "this other is the shade for whom, just now, your kingdom caused its every slope This is Virgilius, who thus says to me," And him I pointed at; "the other is That shade for whom just now shook every slope |
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to tremble as it freed him from itself." Your realm, that from itself discharges him." |
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