THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante Alighieri
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СКАЧАТЬ them all,

       One single old man, sleeping, as he came,

       With a shrewd visage. And these seven, each

       Like the first troop were habited, but wore

       No braid of lilies on their temples wreath'd.

       Rather with roses and each vermeil flower,

       A sight, but little distant, might have sworn,

       That they were all on fire above their brow.

       Whenas the car was o'er against me, straight.

       Was heard a thund'ring, at whose voice it seem'd

       The chosen multitude were stay'd; for there,

       With the first ensigns, made they solemn halt.

       Soon as the polar light, which never knows

       Setting nor rising, nor the shadowy veil

       Of other cloud than sin, fair ornament

       Of the first heav'n, to duty each one there

       Safely convoying, as that lower doth

       The steersman to his port, stood firmly fix'd;

       Forthwith the saintly tribe, who in the van

       Between the Gryphon and its radiance came,

       Did turn them to the car, as to their rest:

       And one, as if commission'd from above,

       In holy chant thrice shorted forth aloud:

       "Come, spouse, from Libanus!" and all the rest

       Took up the song—At the last audit so

       The blest shall rise, from forth his cavern each

       Uplifting lightly his new-vested flesh,

       As, on the sacred litter, at the voice

       Authoritative of that elder, sprang

       A hundred ministers and messengers

       Of life eternal. "Blessed thou! who com'st!"

       And, "O," they cried, "from full hands scatter ye

       Unwith'ring lilies;" and, so saying, cast

       Flowers over head and round them on all sides.

       I have beheld, ere now, at break of day,

       The eastern clime all roseate, and the sky

       Oppos'd, one deep and beautiful serene,

       And the sun's face so shaded, and with mists

       Attemper'd at lids rising, that the eye

       Long while endur'd the sight: thus in a cloud

       Of flowers, that from those hands angelic rose,

       And down, within and outside of the car,

       Fell showering, in white veil with olive wreath'd,

       A virgin in my view appear'd, beneath

       Green mantle, rob'd in hue of living flame:

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       And o'er my Spirit, that in former days

       Within her presence had abode so long,

       No shudd'ring terror crept. Mine eyes no more

       Had knowledge of her; yet there mov'd from her

       A hidden virtue, at whose touch awak'd,

       The power of ancient love was strong within me.

       No sooner on my vision streaming, smote

       The heav'nly influence, which years past, and e'en

       In childhood, thrill'd me, than towards Virgil I

       Turn'd me to leftward, panting, like a babe,

       That flees for refuge to his mother's breast,

       If aught have terrified or work'd him woe:

       And would have cried: "There is no dram of blood,

       That doth not quiver in me. The old flame

       Throws out clear tokens of reviving fire:"

       But Virgil had bereav'd us of himself,

       Virgil, my best-lov'd father; Virgil, he

       To whom I gave me up for safety: nor,

       All, our prime mother lost, avail'd to save

       My undew'd cheeks from blur of soiling tears.

       "Dante, weep not, that Virgil leaves thee: nay,

       Weep thou not yet: behooves thee feel the edge

       Of other sword, and thou shalt weep for that."

       As to the prow or stern, some admiral

       Paces the deck, inspiriting his crew,

       When 'mid the sail-yards all hands ply aloof;

       Thus on the left side of the car I saw,

       (Turning me at the sound of mine own name,

       Which here I am compell'd to register)

       The virgin station'd, who before appeared

       Veil'd in that festive shower angelical.

       Towards me, across the stream, she bent her eyes;

       Though from her brow the veil descending, bound

       With foliage of Minerva, suffer'd not

       That I beheld her clearly; then with act

       Full royal, still insulting o'er her thrall,

       Added, as one, who speaking keepeth back

       The bitterest saying, to conclude the speech:

       "Observe me well. I am, in sooth, I am

       Beatrice. What! and hast thou deign'd at last

       Approach the mountain? knewest not, O man!

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