Dante: Divine Comedy: Inferno

Canto 1
Translated by D. B. Gain

At our midlife my wandering way lacked light;

A dark dark wood mersed me in nullest night. 3
How hard to limn this wood so wild and sere!
The very thought fills me with frantic fear. 6
Yet it held good, so while I still have breath
I'll tell of all, though telling's worse than death. 9
I know not what it was that caused to stray,
So tired was I when wandering from the way. 12
Yet at a hill I found at last relief
From that drear vale that pierced with griping grief. 15
When I looked up I knew that I had won
From it a sight of the straight~guiding sun. 18
And my heart's lake was freed from frantic fright
From those long hours of that so piteous night. 21
As one, still spent, but safe now on the shore,
Looks on the waves that he need fear no more, 24
So did my soul, the soul of one who'd fled.
Gaze on the pass that held none but the dead. 27
Rested, my firm foot lower gave some hope
I might not stumble on this lonely slope, 30
Foiled by a pantheress, all set to seize,
For sure, swift one, one slow as I with ease. 33
I oft turned back, full sure that I was blocked.
My eyes and her eyes, spotted one, were locked. 36
'Twas dawn, and spring, when the beings above,
The sun and stars, were first fired by God's love. 40
So I had hope 'twould surely be my lot,
My spotted one, that I would be forgot. 43
A lion came, th' air and I were filled with dread 45
At ravening hunger in his high~held head, 48
A lean she~wolf also, whose gluttonous greed
Full oft ere now had caused wan wights to bleed. 51
My heart was heavy; her so savage sight
Reft me of hope I could e'er gain the height. 54
One who is sure that he right now prevails
Is sick and sore and saddened when he fails. 57
So was I saddened, forced back by the brute
Right to the region where the sun is mute. 60
I felt, while forced back, desperate, down the slope,
One seeming faint~voiced. long mute, give me hope. 63
"Are you Shadow, or does your form conceal"
I cried to him for pity, "One who's real?" 66
"Not now, once real," he cried. "Lombardian earth
Made me and my folks Mantuan by birth. 69
I was born, though late, ere Julius died
And, come to Rome, my own home left, t` abide
Near good Augustus, under gods who lied. 72
I praised, a bard, Anchises` loyal son,
Who came from Troy when it had been undone. 75
Climb, climb the mount that gives us all our joy.
Why, why turn back to what can but destroy?" 78
Abashed, I cried, "O Virgil, from whose store
Such copious streams of living water pour! 81
Let me. loving and taught by you, prevail.
O greatest bard, your words shall never fail! 84
You are my master, you save me from shame.
Your style is my style, source of all my fame! 87
Great sage, turn back the beast, save me, I quake
From pulsing pain that only you can slake". 90
I sobbed. "This place", he cried, "shall never save.
If you stay here, you`ll e`er be but a slave. 93
This beast, which makes you squirm, lets none go by,
But hinders all, and causes all to die. 96
The more the monster eats, the more her need;
Food makes her famished, naught can glut her greed, 99
Till dog that makes her die, desperate, arrives;
Many shall be the beasts with whom she wives. 102
`Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall be his birth;
Love, wisdom, nerve, not land and wealth, his worth. 105
Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus all laved,
Camilla too, the land with blood; all craved
What he at last shall win ~ Italy saved. 108
From stead to stead he`ll hunt the hater well,
Till he at last has hounded her to hell. 111
Therefore I deem this fittest: `tis decreed
For you to follow and for me to lead, 113
To hear the shrieks of those who e'er abide
In pain and torment where all hope has died. 117
Then shall you see those fire shall leave unstressed,
Since they have hope they`ll soon be with the blest. 120
To whom if you hereafter would ascend,
I`ll leave you then; you`ll find a fitter friend, 1
Since he who holds the heavens in his sway
Won`t admit me, who once durst disobey. 126
He`s lord of all; yet blest the one who`s brought
To that high place, to the high king`s own court." 129
Then I, "Bard, by the God whom you know not,
Save me, I beg, from this so sordid lot, 132
That I may see (you said) Saint Peter`s door
And those you said were of a soul so sore".
I kept behind, while he went on before. 136