Purgatorio: Canto I

For fairer waters now before the wind
Her sails my spirit's little boat doth spread,
Which leaves so dark and stern a sea behind;

And I will sing that second realm instead,
Wherein man's spirit frees itself from stain,
And groweth worthy Heaven's high courts to tread.

Let Poesy, that was dead, rise again,
O holy Muses, since that yours am I,
And let Calliope lift up her strain.

Following my song with that sweet melody
Which smote the wretched pies, and made them own
All hope of pardon passed for ever by.

The orient sapphire's hue of sweetest tone,
Which gathered in the aspect, calm and bright.
Of that pure air as far as Heaven's first zone,"

Now to mine eyes brought back the old delight.
Soon as I passed forth from the dead, dank air,
Which eyes and heart had veiled with saddest night.

The planet whence love floweth, sweet and fair,
Clothed all the orient with a smiling grace,
Veiling the Fishes, that her escort were.

I to the right hand turned, my mind to place
On th' other pole, and four stars there beheld,
Ne'er seen by any but man's primal race;

From their bright flames o'er Heaven a new joy welled.
O widowed clime of this our northern sphere,
From sight of these by Nature's law withheld!

When I had ta'en my leave of gazing there,
A little turning towards the other pole.
Where I had seen the great Wain disappear,

I saw, hard by, an old man standing sole.
Worthy of so much reverence in his mien,
More could no father claim of filial soul.

Long was his beard, and white hairs there were seen,
Which with his flowing locks agreed in hue,
That o'er his breast fell down, a twofold screen.

The rays of those four stars, so pure and true.
Adorned his face with such surpassing light,
It was as though the sun's face met my view.

"Who are ye, ye who 'gainst the dark stream's might
Have from the everlasting prison fled?"
So spake he, shaking reverend locks and white;

"Who was your guide? What lamp its radiance shed.
As ye passed forth from out the night's deep gloom,
Which blackens aye that valley dark and dread i

Are then the laws of that abyss of doom
Thus broken, or is counsel new in Heaven,
That ye, though damned, to these my caverns come?''

Then by my Guide to me a grasp was given.
And I, by words and hands and many a sign,
To homage of the knee and brow was driven.

Then answered he, " My coming is not mine;
A Lady came from Heaven, and with her prayers
Did him who stands here to my help consign.

But since it is thy will to know how fares
It with us, fully and in very deed,
My will to say thee ' Nay ' in no wise cares.

Not yet is he from life's last evening freed,
But through his madness came to it so near,
He had but few short moments to recede."

So, as I said, 'twas mine this charge to bear.
To rescue him, nor was there other way
Than this by which I came and now am here.

'Twas mine the race accursed to display,
And now I purpose he those souls should know
Who here are cleansed beneath thy sovran sway.

How I have led, 'twere long to thee to show;
But power that helps me doth from Heaven descend,
That he may thee by sight and hearing know.

Him on his course I pray thee now befriend;
He wanders seeking freedom, gift men bless.
As he knows well who life for her doth spend;

THou know'st it, since death lost its bitterness
In Utica, where vesture thou didst leave,
Which the Great Day in glorious sheen shall dress.

The eternal laws from us no wrong receive;
He lives, and Minos lets me roam at will;
I of that circle am where yet doth live

Thy Marcia with chaste eyes, who seemeth still,
O holy heart, to pray thee take her back;
For her love's sake then this our wish fulfil.

Let us our way through thy seven kingdoms track.
And of thy favour I will her apprise,
Wish for remembrance there thou canst not lack."

"So great the joy that Marcia gave mine eyes
While I in yon world lived," then answered he,
That every wish I met as it did rise;

Now that beyond that evil stream dwells she.
She can no longer move me, who obey
That law which passed when I was thence set free.

But if a heavenly Lady guides thy way.
As thou dost tell, there needs no flattering speech;
Let it suffice thee in her name to pray.

Go then, and gird thou this man, as I teach.
With a smooth rush, and see thou cleanse his face,
So that each stain that lingers there thou bleach;

For 'twere not meet his eye with any trace
Of cloud and mist to that first Angel go.
Of those who have in Paradise their place.

This little island all around, below,
There, where the billows beat upon the shore
On the soft ooze, bids reeds and rushes grow;

No other plant that leaves and branches bore,
Or hardened grew, could there its life sustain.
For they yield not as each stroke passeth o'er.

Then by this way return ye not again:
The sun, now rising, will direct you well
The mountain's height with easier climb to gain."

Then vanished he; and not a syllable
I spake, but rose, and backward then I sped,"
Close to my Guide, with gaze that on him fell.

He then began: " My son, in my steps tread;
Let us turn back; on this side slopes the plain,
By slow descent to its low boundaries led."

Near was the dawn its triumph bright to gain
O'er morning's mist that vanished, so that I
Knew from afar the trembling of the main.

Along the lonely plain our feet we ply.
As one who finds the pathway he had missed.
And deems till then he wanders fruitlessly.

When we had reached the point where dews resist
The sun's heat most, and being where the shade
Is falling, slowly vanish into mist.

Then both his hands upon the grass outspread
My Master placed, with sweetness wonderful;
And when his meaning was to me conveyed,

I turned to him my cheeks, where tears fell full;
Then to my face he did the hue restore
Which Hell had hidden, and left veiled and dull.

So came we down upon the desert shore,
Which ne'er saw man upon its waters sail,
Who then retraced the path he thus passed o'er.

There, as that other bade, he did not fail
To gird me, and — O wonder! — for as fast
As he those rushes gathered, weak and frail,"

There, where he plucked, they sprang ere moment passed.