Canto 1 of Dante’s Inferno
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In middle-age I found myself
in an obscure wood,
for the straight road had long since been lost.
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Christ, how hard it is for me now
to even contemplate how harsh and savage
a place it was, without renewing my old fears!
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It is a place so bitter that death might come as a relief;
But to speak of the good
I will tell of the other things too that I found.
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I don’t know how I can begin to describe how I entered,
having been so drugged in a kind of sleep
that I had long since abandoned the straight way.
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But, when I reached the foot of the hill,
there where the valley ends,
and where my heart had been seized with such anguish,
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I looked up, and I saw its shoulders
dressed in the rays of the planet
which directs us all to where we need to go.
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Then the fear was a little quieted,
which had endured well into the night
in the lake of my heart.
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And like someone trying to find his breath
on the bank after surfacing from the depths,
looking back over the perilous waters;
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So my soul, still reeling,
looked back at the pass,
which had never before let anyone through alive.
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Then, after I had rested my weary body,
I looked up once again on the deserted hill,
my left foot treading heavily behind me.
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Almost as soon as I had started
a stealthy and light moving leopard appeared,
his fur covered by those distinctive spots.
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It did not depart on seeing me,
but instead impeded my movements, blocking my way.
So I had to beat a retreat, over and over again.
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It was early in the morning,
the sun was rising with the stars still out,
a sight which still evokes the divine
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and that almost mythic time before the big bang;
so I no longer feared the beast as much,
with all it signs of debilitating luxury,
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from that hour onto the sweet season.
But, not so much that I didn’t fear
the lion, which next appeared.
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He approached me, coming towards me
with his head held high. He had a hungry look,
so much so that the very air about him seemed affected.
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Next a she-wolf with all its ravenousness,
seeming to eat into its own need,
and the cause of much misery for so many on earth.
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So much heaviness and fear did I feel,
at the sight of her, that I seemed to lose all hope
of ever reaching the summit.
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And so, like one just on the brink,
yet time catches up causing them to lose heart,
so who in all thoughts weep, and becomes even more wretched.
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So she made me, this restless wolf,
who kept approaching me, little by little,
forcing me back to where the sun sinks,
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and while I descended to a very low place,
it was then that my eyes were offered the sight of one
who, as if originating from a great silence, appeared hoarse to me!
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When I saw him in that great wilderness
I cried out, ‘ O for Pity’s sake, HELP ME!
Whatever you might be; shade or certain man!’
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And he responded: ‘ Not man, but man once
was I. My parents were from Lombardy,
Mantuans both by birth.
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I was born sub Julio, though it was late,
and so I also saw Rome during the good Augustus’ reign;
a time of both false and dying gods.
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A poet was I, telling principally of that man who was
known as Aeneas, and who came from Troy,
from where the great Iliad come to us.
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But why do you turn your back so?
Why don’t you climb that mountain
which is the reason and cause for all possible joy?
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‘Are you really the same Virgil who created
that fountain of discourse which flows out like a river?’
I asked, with sudden shame upon hearing my own words.
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‘All honour and light to other poets, yet loving
study, and great love, had me searching
through your volumes…
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You are my Master, my author.
You alone are to be credited with the
beautiful style, which has brought me great honour and fame.
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But, do you see this beast which has been forcing me back?
Please help me, great sage,
for she makes the very blood in my veins tremble.’
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‘Ah, you must take another road,’
he replied, when he saw my tears,
‘If you want to escape from this savage place.
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For this beast which makes you cry out
will never let you pass by this way,
such is its force that it would murder you in the end.
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She has such an evil and malignant nature,
so that when her greed and desire are momentarily
appeased, her fierce appetites are once again renewed.
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Many are the animals which she further mates with,
and many more, no doubt, will come. Until, finally
the grey hound will come and put an end to her.
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This hound doesn’t feed on anything else found upon the earth
but love, wisdom and virtue;
her estate being built on human emotions.
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It alone can be the salvation of the humble Italy
for whom the virgin Camilla died,
Euryatus, Turmus and Nisus, among others…
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Only it can chase this ravenous beast out of every town,
until it has been sent back to hell,
where envy alone spawned it.
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So, I think it best that you should
follow me, I will be your guide,
taking you far from here to an eternal place
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where you will hear desperate shrieking,
coming from the ancient spirits in pain,
and who always cry out, at their second death.
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And you will see also those happy to be in the flames
because they believe that hope will still come,
whenever it is the moment to be, to those beatified.
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And then, in your own time you will rise up,
a soul more worthy than I,
and with her I shall leave you, taking my leave.
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For the Emperor who so reigns, where I will take you,
was unknown to me, my mere birth being an act of rebellion.
So that he doesn’t wish for my kind to be even seen in his city.
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In every place there he reigns, and he alone.
There in his city he sits on his high throne,
And happy are they who are chosen.’
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And I said to him: ‘ Poet, I beg you.
In the name of the God whom you did not know,
so that I may flee this evil, and worse.
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That you might take me to where you spoke of,
so that I may see the gates of Saint Peter,
and all who are assembled there.’
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And than he moved, and I followed him.
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This transversion is © Peter O’Neill |