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

Автор: Dante Alighieri

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 9788027233335

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СКАЧАТЬ through them; so thy nimble thought

       May image, how at first I re-beheld

       The sun, that bedward now his couch o'erhung.

       Thus with my leader's feet still equaling pace

       From forth that cloud I came, when now expir'd

       The parting beams from off the nether shores.

       O quick and forgetive power! that sometimes dost

       So rob us of ourselves, we take no mark

       Though round about us thousand trumpets clang!

       What moves thee, if the senses stir not? Light

       Kindled in heav'n, spontaneous, self-inform'd,

       Or likelier gliding down with swift illapse

       By will divine. Portray'd before me came

       The traces of her dire impiety,

       Whose form was chang'd into the bird, that most

       Delights itself in song: and here my mind

       Was inwardly so wrapt, it gave no place

       To aught that ask'd admittance from without.

       Next shower'd into my fantasy a shape

       As of one crucified, whose visage spake

       Fell rancour, malice deep, wherein he died;

       And round him Ahasuerus the great king,

       Esther his bride, and Mordecai the just,

       Blameless in word and deed. As of itself

       That unsubstantial coinage of the brain

       Burst, like a bubble, Which the water fails

       That fed it; in my vision straight uprose

       A damsel weeping loud, and cried, "O queen!

       O mother! wherefore has intemperate ire

       Driv'n thee to loath thy being? Not to lose

       Lavinia, desp'rate thou hast slain thyself.

       Now hast thou lost me. I am she, whose tears

       Mourn, ere I fall, a mother's timeless end."

       E'en as a sleep breaks off, if suddenly

       New radiance strike upon the closed lids,

       The broken slumber quivering ere it dies;

       Thus from before me sunk that imagery

       Vanishing, soon as on my face there struck

       The light, outshining far our earthly beam.

       As round I turn'd me to survey what place

       I had arriv'd at, "Here ye mount," exclaim'd

       A voice, that other purpose left me none,

       Save will so eager to behold who spake,

       I could not choose but gaze. As 'fore the sun,

       That weighs our vision down, and veils his form

       In light transcendent, thus my virtue fail'd

       Unequal. "This is Spirit from above,

       Who marshals us our upward way, unsought;

       And in his own light shrouds him. As a man

       Doth for himself, so now is done for us.

       For whoso waits imploring, yet sees need

       Of his prompt aidance, sets himself prepar'd

       For blunt denial, ere the suit be made.

       Refuse we not to lend a ready foot

       At such inviting: haste we to ascend,

       Before it darken: for we may not then,

       Till morn again return." So spake my guide;

       And to one ladder both address'd our steps;

       And the first stair approaching, I perceiv'd

       Near me as 'twere the waving of a wing,

       That fann'd my face and whisper'd: "Blessed they

       The peacemakers: they know not evil wrath."

       Now to such height above our heads were rais'd

       The last beams, follow'd close by hooded night,

       That many a star on all sides through the gloom

       Shone out. "Why partest from me, O my strength?"

       So with myself I commun'd; for I felt

       My o'ertoil'd sinews slacken. We had reach'd

       The summit, and were fix'd like to a bark

       Arriv'd at land. And waiting a short space,

       If aught should meet mine ear in that new round,

       Then to my guide I turn'd, and said: "Lov'd sire!

       Declare what guilt is on this circle purg'd.

       If our feet rest, no need thy speech should pause."

       He thus to me: "The love of good, whate'er

       Wanted of just proportion, here fulfils.

       Here plies afresh the oar, that loiter'd ill.

       But that thou mayst yet clearlier understand,

       Give ear unto my words, and thou shalt cull

       Some fruit may please thee well, from this delay.

       "Creator, nor created being, ne'er,

       My son," he thus began, "was without love,

       Or natural, or the free spirit's growth.

       Thou hast not that to learn. The natural still

       Is without error; but the other swerves,

       If on ill object bent, or through excess

       Of vigour, or defect. While e'er it seeks

       The primal blessings, or with measure due

       Th' inferior, no delight, that flows from it,

       Partakes of ill. But let it warp to evil,

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