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The Paradiso (Wicksteed) · 1899

Paradiso: Canto XXIII

by Dante Alighieri 1265–1321

Translated by Philip H. Wicksteed (1899)


As the bird amidst the loved foliage who hath brooded on the nest of her sweet offspring through the night which hideth things from us,

who, to look upon their longed-for aspect and to find the food wherewith to feed them, wherein her heavy toils are pleasant to her,

foreruns the time, upon the open spray, and with glowing love awaiteth the sun, fixedly gazing for the dawn to rise;

so was my Lady standing, erect and eager, turned toward the region beneath which the sun showeth least speed;

so that, as I looked on her in her suspense and longing, I became like him who, desiring, would fain have other than he hath, and payeth him with hope.

But short the space 'twixt one and the other when, of fixing my attent I mean, and of seeing the heaven grow brilliant more and more.

And Beatrice said: "Behold the hosts of Christ's triumph, and all the fruit gathered by the circling of these spheres."

Meseemed her countenance was all aglow, and her eyes so full of gladness, that I must needs pass it unconstrued by.

As in the calm full moons Trivia smileth amongst the eternal nymphs who paint the heaven in each recess,

I saw, thousands of lamps surmounting, one sun which all and each enkindled, as doth our own the things we see above;

and through the living light outglowed the shining substance so bright upon my vision that it endured it not.

Oh Beatrice, sweet guide and dear! She said to me: "That which o'ercometh thee is power against which nought hath defence.

Therein is the wisdom and the might which oped the pathways betwixt heaven and earth, for which there erst had been so long desire."

Even as fire is unbarred from the cloud, because it so dilateth that it hath not space within, and counter to its nature dasheth down to earth,

so my mind, grown greater 'mid these feasts, forth issued from itself, and what it then became knoweth not to recall....

"Open thine eyes and look on what I am; thou hast seen things by which thou art made mighty to sustain my smile,"

I was as one who cometh to himself from a forgotten vision, and doth strive in vain to bring it back unto his mind,

when I heard this proffer, worthy of so great gratitude, as never to be blotted from the book that doth record the past.

If now there were to sound all of those tongues which Polyhymnia with her sisters made richest with their sweetest milk,

it would not mount, in aiding me, unto the thousandth of the truth, hymning the sacred smile, and how deep-clear it made the sacred aspect.

And therefore, figuring Paradise, needs must the sacred poem make a leap, as who should find his pathway intercepted.

But whoso thinketh of the weighty theme and of the mortal shoulder which hath charged itself therewith, will think no blame if under it it trembleth.

It is no voyage for a little barque, that which my daring keel cleaveth as it goeth, nor for a helmsman who doth spare himself.

"Wherefore doth my face so enamour thee that thou turnest thee not to the fair garden which flowereth beneath the rays of Christ?

There is the Rose wherein the Word Divine made itself flesh; there are the Lilies at whose odour the good path was taken."

So Beatrice: and I, who to her counsels was all eager, again surrendered me to the conflict of the feeble brows.

As under the sun's ray, which issueth pure through a broken cloud, ere now mine eyes have seen a meadow full of flowers, when themselves covered by the shade;

so beheld I many a throng of splendours, glowed on from above by ardent rays, beholding not the source whence came the glowings.

O benign power which dost so imprint them! thou hadst thyself uplifted to yield place there for mine eyes that lacked in power.

The name of the beauteous flower which I ever invoke, morning and evening, drew all my mind together to look upon the greatest flame.

And when on both mine eyes had been depicted the quality and greatness of the living star which conquereth up there, e'en as down here it conquered,

from within the heaven descended a torch circle-formed, in fashion of a crown, and girt her and wheeled round her.

Whatever melody soundeth sweetest here below, and most doth draw the soul unto itself, would seem a rent cloud thundering,

compared unto the sound of that lyre whereby was crowned the beauteous sapphire by which the brightest heaven is ensapphired.

"I am the angelic love who circle the lofty gladness that doth breathe from out the womb which was the hostelry of our desire;

and I will circle, Lady of heaven, until thou followest thy son, and dost make yet more divine the supreme sphere in that thou enterest it."

Thus the circling melody impressed itself, and all the other lights made sound the name of Mary.

The royal mantle of all the swathings of the universe which most doth burn and most is quickened in the breath and in the ways of God,

above us had its inner shore so distant that its appearance, there where I was, not yet appeared to me.

Therefore mine eyes had not power to follow the crowned flame as she ascended after her own offspring.

And as the infant who toward his mother stretcheth up his arms when he hath had the milk, because his mind flameth forth even into outward gesture;

so each one of these glowings up-stretched with its flame, so that the deep love which they had for Mary was made plain to me.

Then they stayed there within my sight, singing O Queen of heaven so sweetly that ne'er hath parted from me the delight.

O how great the wealth crammed in those most rich chests, which here on earth were goodly acres for the seeding!

Here they have life and joy even in that treasure which was earned in weeping in the exile of Babylon, where gold was scorned.

Here triumphs under the lofty Son of God and Mary, in his victory, together with the ancient and new council, he who doth hold the keys of so great glory.

MLA

Dante Alighieri. The Paradiso (Wicksteed), Paradiso: Canto XXIII. Translated by Philip H. Wicksteed. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/paradiso-wicksteed/22/.

Chicago

Dante Alighieri. The Paradiso (Wicksteed), Paradiso: Canto XXIII. Translated by Philip H. Wicksteed. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/paradiso-wicksteed/22/.

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