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3.89 AVERAGE
3.89 AVERAGE
و این کار عشق بود که خورشید و دیگر اختران را در گردش دارد.
آخرین شعر دانته در کمدیش
آخرین جلد کمدی الهی، اثری بسیار متفاوت با دو جلد قبلیست؛ حاوی مباحث دشوار، زبانی ثقیل و مملو از استعارات پیچیده و سرشار از مفاهیم عرفانی. شاید مهمترین علت شهرت و احترام این جلد در غرب، نادر بودن چنین نوشته‌هایی در ادبیات آنهاست (برخلاف ادبیات شرق و ادبیات پارسی). در مقدمۀ طولانی، لازم و غنیِ مترجم نیز به این اشاره شده (حتی اثر با منطق‌الطیر عطار نیز مقایسه می‌شود)، به گونه‌ای که تقریباً برای جزء‌جزءِ سرودهای این کتاب، می‌توان نمونه‌ای مشابه از اشعار شعرای بزرگ پارسی یافت و مترجم نیز در مقدمه‌ها و حواشی به‌خوبی به آنها اشاره کرده است.
بنابراین کتاب دیگر تنها سفرِ بدیع و جذاب قهرمانِ داستان به طبقات بهشت نیست، بلکه حاوی سروده های عرفانی و فلسفیست (با تمِ مسیحیت) که سعی می‌کند مسائلی چون جبر و اختیار، ایمان، عشق، یگانگی خداوند و ... را بررسی کند.
اگر نگاهی کلی به سه مجموعۀ کمدی دانته بیندازیم، به گمانم می‌توان گفت دوزخ و برزخ پوستۀ اثر و بهشت، هستۀ آنهاست. خواننده در بسیاری از سروده‌های «بهشت» تنها با مفهوم سروکار دارد، نه روایت داستان. در این کتاب از توصیفات محیط خبری نیست؛ دیگر دانته نمی‌داند چگونه مسیر خود را طی می‌کند و تنها با اشارۀ راهنمایش متوجه می‌شود به طبقه‌ای بالاتر صعود کرده‌اند. اشخاص تنها فروغی هستند که تا آن هنگام که خودشان، خود را معرفی ننمایند، شناخته نمی‌شوند و گذر زمان نیز حس نمی‌شود؛ پس تمام اشعاری که در دو کتاب قبلی دربارۀ چنین مطالبی سروده شدند، در «بهشت» جای خود را به سرودهای عرفانی، دینی و فلسفی داده‌اند. این تغییر در محتوا و نگارش اثر، موجب شده که فهم اثر بسیار دشوارتر شود (به گونه‌ای که مجبور شوم دو مرتبه کتاب را بخوانم) و از سوی دیگر نیز با فهم سروده‌ها خواننده متوجه می‌شود که اشعار چه‌اندازه زیباتر و دلنشین‌تر هستند(در مقایسه‌ای کلی با دو کتاب قبلی).
بیش از نصفِ حجم کتاب، شاملِ حواشی، توضیحات و مقدمات مترجم می‌شود که ضروری‌اند و به گمانم بدون آنها کتاب آنطور که باید و شاید فهم نمی‌شود. مترجم عزیز با حوصلۀ هر چه تمام‌تر هر آنچه که ممکن بوده برای یک خواننده سؤال شود را توضیح داده و این توضیحات (که چکیده‌ای از چندین تفسیر مشهور جهانی‌اند) خود بیش از اثر به خواننده اطلاعات می‌دهند. گفتۀ من فقط دربارۀ این جلد کمدی الهی نیست، بلکه در هر سه جلد این مسئله مشهود است، اما خب مانند نویسنده، اوج کار مترجم نیز در همین جلد آشکار می‌شود.
آخرین شعر دانته در کمدیش
آخرین جلد کمدی الهی، اثری بسیار متفاوت با دو جلد قبلیست؛ حاوی مباحث دشوار، زبانی ثقیل و مملو از استعارات پیچیده و سرشار از مفاهیم عرفانی. شاید مهمترین علت شهرت و احترام این جلد در غرب، نادر بودن چنین نوشته‌هایی در ادبیات آنهاست (برخلاف ادبیات شرق و ادبیات پارسی). در مقدمۀ طولانی، لازم و غنیِ مترجم نیز به این اشاره شده (حتی اثر با منطق‌الطیر عطار نیز مقایسه می‌شود)، به گونه‌ای که تقریباً برای جزء‌جزءِ سرودهای این کتاب، می‌توان نمونه‌ای مشابه از اشعار شعرای بزرگ پارسی یافت و مترجم نیز در مقدمه‌ها و حواشی به‌خوبی به آنها اشاره کرده است.
بنابراین کتاب دیگر تنها سفرِ بدیع و جذاب قهرمانِ داستان به طبقات بهشت نیست، بلکه حاوی سروده های عرفانی و فلسفیست (با تمِ مسیحیت) که سعی می‌کند مسائلی چون جبر و اختیار، ایمان، عشق، یگانگی خداوند و ... را بررسی کند.
اگر نگاهی کلی به سه مجموعۀ کمدی دانته بیندازیم، به گمانم می‌توان گفت دوزخ و برزخ پوستۀ اثر و بهشت، هستۀ آنهاست. خواننده در بسیاری از سروده‌های «بهشت» تنها با مفهوم سروکار دارد، نه روایت داستان. در این کتاب از توصیفات محیط خبری نیست؛ دیگر دانته نمی‌داند چگونه مسیر خود را طی می‌کند و تنها با اشارۀ راهنمایش متوجه می‌شود به طبقه‌ای بالاتر صعود کرده‌اند. اشخاص تنها فروغی هستند که تا آن هنگام که خودشان، خود را معرفی ننمایند، شناخته نمی‌شوند و گذر زمان نیز حس نمی‌شود؛ پس تمام اشعاری که در دو کتاب قبلی دربارۀ چنین مطالبی سروده شدند، در «بهشت» جای خود را به سرودهای عرفانی، دینی و فلسفی داده‌اند. این تغییر در محتوا و نگارش اثر، موجب شده که فهم اثر بسیار دشوارتر شود (به گونه‌ای که مجبور شوم دو مرتبه کتاب را بخوانم) و از سوی دیگر نیز با فهم سروده‌ها خواننده متوجه می‌شود که اشعار چه‌اندازه زیباتر و دلنشین‌تر هستند(در مقایسه‌ای کلی با دو کتاب قبلی).
بیش از نصفِ حجم کتاب، شاملِ حواشی، توضیحات و مقدمات مترجم می‌شود که ضروری‌اند و به گمانم بدون آنها کتاب آنطور که باید و شاید فهم نمی‌شود. مترجم عزیز با حوصلۀ هر چه تمام‌تر هر آنچه که ممکن بوده برای یک خواننده سؤال شود را توضیح داده و این توضیحات (که چکیده‌ای از چندین تفسیر مشهور جهانی‌اند) خود بیش از اثر به خواننده اطلاعات می‌دهند. گفتۀ من فقط دربارۀ این جلد کمدی الهی نیست، بلکه در هر سه جلد این مسئله مشهود است، اما خب مانند نویسنده، اوج کار مترجم نیز در همین جلد آشکار می‌شود.
Inferno: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3203815648
Purgatorio: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3220621470
Paradiso: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3288199225
درباب ترجمه
چندباری در کتابفروشی‌ها ترجمه‌های مختلفی از آن دیده بودم. شهرت کتاب هر بار ترغیبم می‌کرد که نگاهی به آن بیندازم، اما به‌طور کلی برداشتی از جملات نمی‌کردم و منظورش را نمی‌فهمیدم؛ آن موقع ترجمۀ آقای شفا را ندیده بودم و فقط با ترجمۀ کزازی و آقای میرعباسی آشنا بودم؛ چندبار ورق زدن آنها هربار علاقه‌ام را به مطالعۀ اثر کور کرده بود، بنابه اینکه برای من زیبایی ادبی در اولویت قرار نداشت و تمایل داشتم اثر را کامل بفهمم و این دو ترجمه فاقد این ویژگی بودند؛ اینکه کدام برگردان، بهترین گزینه برای مطالعۀ این مجموعه شعر ایتالیایی است، بستگی به نگاه خواننده دارد. برای من که آشنایی کاملی با اساطیر و شخصیت‌های یونان و روم و همچنین شخصیت‌های معاصر شاعر نداشتم (که تقریباً تمامی شخصیت‌های کتاب از آنها سرچشمه می‌گیرند)، اینکه ساختار ادبی شعر تا چه حد نگاه داشته شده است، در اولویت نخست نیست. آنچه مهمتر است، متنی ادبی و در عین حال قابل فهم باشد تا بتوانم مفهومی را که نویسنده در تلاش برای انتقال آن است، دریافت کنم؛ بنابراین شاید برای کسی که اطلاعات نسبتاً خوبی از شخصیت‌های داستان (که برگرفته از اساطیر و تاریخ یونان و روم و همچنین سرشناسان معاصر دانته بوده‌اند) ترجمۀ شاعرانه‌تر دیگر مترجمان مناسب باشد، اما برای افرادی چون من بهترین انتخاب همین ترجمه است؛ آقای شفا تا جایی که توانسته ترجمه را ادبی ساخته، علاوه بر اینکه با پانوشت‌ها، مقدمات و توضیحات ابتدای هر سرود، سبب شده که هم استعاره‌ها و اشارات ثقیل و زیاد اشعار درک شوند و هم از زیبایی کتاب نهایت لذت را برد.
اگر توانستید چاپ قبل انقلاب تهیه کنید، که نقاشی‌های آن سانسور نشده باشند (حدود نصفی، که البته متن کتاب خوشبختانه تغییری داده نشده است) و اینکه بقیۀ آثارِ گوستاو دوره را دربابِ کمدی را از سایت ویکی آرت طی خوانش هر سرود بررسی کنید که دیدنشان بسی دلنشین است و به تصویرسازی هم کمک می‌کنند
درباب خود اثر
کار من نیست که چنین کتابی را نقد کنم و ایرادی به آن وارد کنم یا جایی را نقطۀ عطف اثر بنامم؛ با این وجود، گفتن چند نکته برایم مهم است:
1. براستی نبوغ دانته شایستۀ ستایش است که توانسته هنرمندانه اساطیر غربیان را با داستان‌های دینی مسیحیت بیامیزد و در طراحی جهنم به‌کار ببرد؛ توصیف‌هایی که شده‌اند نیز بی‌نظیرند.
2. سمبلیسمی که به‌کار برده است داستان را بسی زیباتر کرده؛ برای من هم داستان ظاهری جذاب بود و هم آنچه که از این نمادها نیز مفهوم می‌شود.
3. روایت‌های مجزایی که در خلال سفر اصلی بیان می‌شوند به خودیِ خود شاهکاریند. به‌ویژه داستان عاشقانۀ پائولو و فرانچسکا و داستان یوگولینو و فرزندانش که براستی خواننده را غمگین می‌کند.
4. تناسبی که دانته میان جرم و مجازات هم مایۀ شگفتی‌اند.
سختی مطالعه:
اگر از زاویۀ تعصب دینی به اثر نگریسته نشود، به قطعیت اثری بسیار دوست‌داشتنیست و مخاطب را خسته نمی‌کند؛ اما باید در نظر داشت که در بیشتر سرود‌ها اگر اطلاعات کافی در ذهن خواننده نباشد، از اشعارش آن چنان چیزی درک نخواهد کرد (یا حداقل برای من چنین بود!)؛ به‌همین سبب توصیه می‌کنم که هر سرود حداقل دو مرتبه مطالعه شود، یکبار تنها از نگاه ادبی و با دقت در توصیفات و زیبایی ادبی اثر و باری دیگر به‌همره توضیحات مترجم محترمِ عزیز و برای درک نسبی اثر! نسبی، از این منظر که هنوز تمامی اشعار دانته برای متخصصان دانته‌شناس نیز فهم نشده‌اند که یک خوانندۀ عادی برای نخستین بار بتواند تمام اثر را بفهمد.
!را خیر و رحمت دهاد Course Hero خداوند
دوستان! من این کانال یوتیوبی را در خلال مطالعۀ همین دوزخ کشف کردم و براستی خداوندگارِ ناموجود، دانته را که سبب خیر شد که با این کانال آشنا شوم و همچنین سازندگان این کانال را برای کارستانشان خیر دهد! این کانال محترم با فیلم‌های کوتاه دو تا پنج دقیقه‌ای، به سراغ آثار ادبی بزرگ جهان می‌رود و داستان آنها را به‌طور کلی ( و با تصویرسازی که بسی مهم است!) توضیح می‌دهد و گاهی تفسیر نیز می‌کند! حسن آن این است که می‌توان بعضی آثار را که قصد مطالعه ندارید را از این کانال پیدا کنید و فیلم‌هایش را ببینید، یا برای مرور یک کتاب اما از راهی دیگر از آن استفاده کنید. اینجا لینک کانال و همچنین دوزخ دانته را قرار داده‌ام.
دوزخ: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLz_ZtyOWL9BQw3svOTNMbd4WCpxkilhT6
کانال: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt_TSquDx7B-2RX6y3dx3_g
چندباری در کتابفروشی‌ها ترجمه‌های مختلفی از آن دیده بودم. شهرت کتاب هر بار ترغیبم می‌کرد که نگاهی به آن بیندازم، اما به‌طور کلی برداشتی از جملات نمی‌کردم و منظورش را نمی‌فهمیدم؛ آن موقع ترجمۀ آقای شفا را ندیده بودم و فقط با ترجمۀ کزازی و آقای میرعباسی آشنا بودم؛ چندبار ورق زدن آنها هربار علاقه‌ام را به مطالعۀ اثر کور کرده بود، بنابه اینکه برای من زیبایی ادبی در اولویت قرار نداشت و تمایل داشتم اثر را کامل بفهمم و این دو ترجمه فاقد این ویژگی بودند؛ اینکه کدام برگردان، بهترین گزینه برای مطالعۀ این مجموعه شعر ایتالیایی است، بستگی به نگاه خواننده دارد. برای من که آشنایی کاملی با اساطیر و شخصیت‌های یونان و روم و همچنین شخصیت‌های معاصر شاعر نداشتم (که تقریباً تمامی شخصیت‌های کتاب از آنها سرچشمه می‌گیرند)، اینکه ساختار ادبی شعر تا چه حد نگاه داشته شده است، در اولویت نخست نیست. آنچه مهمتر است، متنی ادبی و در عین حال قابل فهم باشد تا بتوانم مفهومی را که نویسنده در تلاش برای انتقال آن است، دریافت کنم؛ بنابراین شاید برای کسی که اطلاعات نسبتاً خوبی از شخصیت‌های داستان (که برگرفته از اساطیر و تاریخ یونان و روم و همچنین سرشناسان معاصر دانته بوده‌اند) ترجمۀ شاعرانه‌تر دیگر مترجمان مناسب باشد، اما برای افرادی چون من بهترین انتخاب همین ترجمه است؛ آقای شفا تا جایی که توانسته ترجمه را ادبی ساخته، علاوه بر اینکه با پانوشت‌ها، مقدمات و توضیحات ابتدای هر سرود، سبب شده که هم استعاره‌ها و اشارات ثقیل و زیاد اشعار درک شوند و هم از زیبایی کتاب نهایت لذت را برد.
اگر توانستید چاپ قبل انقلاب تهیه کنید، که نقاشی‌های آن سانسور نشده باشند (حدود نصفی، که البته متن کتاب خوشبختانه تغییری داده نشده است) و اینکه بقیۀ آثارِ گوستاو دوره را دربابِ کمدی را از سایت ویکی آرت طی خوانش هر سرود بررسی کنید که دیدنشان بسی دلنشین است و به تصویرسازی هم کمک می‌کنند
درباب خود اثر
کار من نیست که چنین کتابی را نقد کنم و ایرادی به آن وارد کنم یا جایی را نقطۀ عطف اثر بنامم؛ با این وجود، گفتن چند نکته برایم مهم است:
1. براستی نبوغ دانته شایستۀ ستایش است که توانسته هنرمندانه اساطیر غربیان را با داستان‌های دینی مسیحیت بیامیزد و در طراحی جهنم به‌کار ببرد؛ توصیف‌هایی که شده‌اند نیز بی‌نظیرند.
2. سمبلیسمی که به‌کار برده است داستان را بسی زیباتر کرده؛ برای من هم داستان ظاهری جذاب بود و هم آنچه که از این نمادها نیز مفهوم می‌شود.
3. روایت‌های مجزایی که در خلال سفر اصلی بیان می‌شوند به خودیِ خود شاهکاریند. به‌ویژه داستان عاشقانۀ پائولو و فرانچسکا و داستان یوگولینو و فرزندانش که براستی خواننده را غمگین می‌کند.
4. تناسبی که دانته میان جرم و مجازات هم مایۀ شگفتی‌اند.
سختی مطالعه:
اگر از زاویۀ تعصب دینی به اثر نگریسته نشود، به قطعیت اثری بسیار دوست‌داشتنیست و مخاطب را خسته نمی‌کند؛ اما باید در نظر داشت که در بیشتر سرود‌ها اگر اطلاعات کافی در ذهن خواننده نباشد، از اشعارش آن چنان چیزی درک نخواهد کرد (یا حداقل برای من چنین بود!)؛ به‌همین سبب توصیه می‌کنم که هر سرود حداقل دو مرتبه مطالعه شود، یکبار تنها از نگاه ادبی و با دقت در توصیفات و زیبایی ادبی اثر و باری دیگر به‌همره توضیحات مترجم محترمِ عزیز و برای درک نسبی اثر! نسبی، از این منظر که هنوز تمامی اشعار دانته برای متخصصان دانته‌شناس نیز فهم نشده‌اند که یک خوانندۀ عادی برای نخستین بار بتواند تمام اثر را بفهمد.
!را خیر و رحمت دهاد Course Hero خداوند
دوستان! من این کانال یوتیوبی را در خلال مطالعۀ همین دوزخ کشف کردم و براستی خداوندگارِ ناموجود، دانته را که سبب خیر شد که با این کانال آشنا شوم و همچنین سازندگان این کانال را برای کارستانشان خیر دهد! این کانال محترم با فیلم‌های کوتاه دو تا پنج دقیقه‌ای، به سراغ آثار ادبی بزرگ جهان می‌رود و داستان آنها را به‌طور کلی ( و با تصویرسازی که بسی مهم است!) توضیح می‌دهد و گاهی تفسیر نیز می‌کند! حسن آن این است که می‌توان بعضی آثار را که قصد مطالعه ندارید را از این کانال پیدا کنید و فیلم‌هایش را ببینید، یا برای مرور یک کتاب اما از راهی دیگر از آن استفاده کنید. اینجا لینک کانال و همچنین دوزخ دانته را قرار داده‌ام.
دوزخ: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLz_ZtyOWL9BQw3svOTNMbd4WCpxkilhT6
کانال: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt_TSquDx7B-2RX6y3dx3_g
3.5 stars.
This was really interesting and I learned a lot (especially being an Atheist). I realise that this was going to be very religious, but I found that it got almost unbearably so towards the very end.
It was nicely written and I wasn't terribly confused. (The explanation of what I was about to read at the beginning of each Canto was a big factor in helping me to understand.)
This was really interesting and I learned a lot (especially being an Atheist). I realise that this was going to be very religious, but I found that it got almost unbearably so towards the very end.
It was nicely written and I wasn't terribly confused. (The explanation of what I was about to read at the beginning of each Canto was a big factor in helping me to understand.)
Ein Buch, so oft rezensiert, so manches Mal zitiert, da kommt man nicht darum herum, es auch mal selber zu lesen. Ich masse mir nicht an, die Leistung eines Dante zu kritisieren oder in einen Vergleich zu stellen. Zu gewichtig schreiben sich die Jahrhunderte seit der Enstehung dieses Gesanges zwischen die Zeilen der einzelnen Strophen.
Ich nehme es, als das, was es für mich wie eingangs erwähnt, ist. Eine Horizonterweiterung, die mit Hilfe von Sekundärtexten und der Musik von Palestrina an Tiefe und Verständnis gewonnen hat.
Anmerkung: je tiefer die Sünde, desto malerischer die Beschreibung. Zumindest "Die Hölle" sollte jeder Bibliophile mal gelesen haben.
Ich nehme es, als das, was es für mich wie eingangs erwähnt, ist. Eine Horizonterweiterung, die mit Hilfe von Sekundärtexten und der Musik von Palestrina an Tiefe und Verständnis gewonnen hat.
Anmerkung: je tiefer die Sünde, desto malerischer die Beschreibung. Zumindest "Die Hölle" sollte jeder Bibliophile mal gelesen haben.
Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.
"Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost. Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love. Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last. All hope abandon, ye who enter in!" These words in somber color I beheld Written upon the summit of a gate”
"This miserable mode Maintain the melancholy souls of those Who lived withouten infamy or praise. Commingled are they with that caitiff choir Of Angels, who have not rebellious been, Nor faithful were to God, but were for self. The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair; Nor them the nethermore abyss receives, For glory none the damned would have from them."
"The anguish of the people Who are below here in my face depicts That pity which for terror thou hast taken Let us go on, for the long way impels us. Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.”
For such defects, and not for other guilt, Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire. Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard, Because some people of much worthiness I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.
Thus I descended out of the first circle Down to the second, that less space begirds, And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing. There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls; Examines the transgressions at the entrance; Judges, and sends according as he girds him.
I came into a place mute of all light, Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest, If by opposing winds 't is combated. The infernal hurricane that never rests Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine; Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. When they arrive before the precipice, There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments, There they blaspheme the puissance divine. I understood that unto such a torment The carnal malefactors were condemned, Who reason subjugate to appetite.
Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us. As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?" When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!"
In the third circle am I of the rain Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy; Its law and quality are never new. Huge hail, and water somber-hued, and snow, Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain; Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this.
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm, Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore Which all the woe of the universe insacks. Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many New toils and sufferings as I beheld? And why doth our transgression waste us so?
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many, On one side and the other, with great howls, Rolling weights forward by main force of chest. They clashed together, and then at that point Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde, Crying, "Why keepest?" and, "Why squanderest thou?"
Let us descend now unto greater woe; Already sinks each star that was ascending When I set out, and loitering is forbidden. We crossed the circle to the other bank, Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself Along a gully that runs out of it.
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx, This tristful brooklet, when it has descended Down to the foot of the malign gray shores. And I, who stood intent upon beholding, Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon, All of them naked and with angry look. They smote each other not alone with hands, But with the head and with the breast and feet, Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.
They all are full of spirits maledict; But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee, Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint. Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven, Injury is the end, and all such end Either by force or fraud affected others. But because fraud is man's peculiar vice, More it displeases God; and so stand lowest The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them. All the first circle of the Violent is; But since force may be used against three persons, In three rounds 'tis divided and constructed. To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbor can we Use force; I say on them and on their things, As thou shalt hear with reason manifest.
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, A man may practice upon him who trusts, And him who doth no confidence imburse. This latter mode, it would appear, deserves Only the bond of love which Nature makes; Wherefore within the second circle nestle Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, Falsification, theft, and simony, Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
Now will I have thee know, the other time I here descended to the nether Hell, This precipice had not yet fallen down. But truly, if I well discern, a little Before His coming who the mighty spoil Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle, Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley Trembled so, that I thought the Universe Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think The world ofttimes converted into chaos; And at that moment this primeval crag Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow. But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near The river of blood, within which boiling is Whoe'er by violence doth injure others."
When the exasperated soul abandons The body whence it rent itself away, Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss. It falls into the forest, and no part Is chosen for it, but where Fortune hurls it, There like a grain of spelt it germinates. It springs a sapling, and a forest tree, The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves, Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet.
For all on one side towards the Castle Their faces have, and go unto Saint Peter's, On the other side they go towards the Mountain This side and that, along the livid stone Beheld I horned demons with great scourges, Who cruelly were beating them behind. Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs At the first blows! and sooth not any one The second waited for, nor for the third.
Thereby Cocytus wholly was congealed. With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins Trickled the teardrops and the bloody drivel. At every mouth he with his teeth was crunching A sinner, in the manner of a brake, So that he three of them tormented thus. To him in front the biting was as naught Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine Utterly stripped of all the skin remained. "That soul up there which has the greatest pain," The Master said, "is Judas Iscariot; With head inside, he plies his legs without. Of the two others, who head downward are, The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus; See how he writhes himself, and speaks no word. And the other, who so stalwart seems, is Cassius. But night is ascending, and 'tis time That we depart, for we have seen the whole."
Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed With course that winds about and slightly falls. The Guide and I into that hidden road Now entered, to return to the bright world, And without care of having any rest We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear, Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy.
True is it, who in contumacy dies Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, Must wait upon the outside this bank Thirty times told the time that he has been In his presumption, unless such decree Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.
And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. One was of gold, and the other was of silver; First with the white, and after with the yellow, Plied he the door, so that I was content. "Whenever faileth either of these keys So that it turn not rightly in the lock," He said to us, "this entrance doth not open. More precious one is, but the other needs More art and intellect ere it unlock, For it is that which doth the knot unloose. From Peter I have them; and he bade me err Rather in opening than in keeping shut, If people but fall down before my feet.”
O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones! Who, in the vision of the mind infirm Confidence have in your backsliding steps, Do ye not comprehend that we are worms, Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly That flieth unto judgment without screen? Why floats aloft your spirit high in air? Like are you unto insects undeveloped, Even as the worm in whom formation fails!
But you take in the bait so that the hook Of the old Adversary draws you to him, And hence availeth little curb or call. The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you, Displaying to you their eternal beauties, And still your eye is looking on the ground; Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you."
The world forsooth is utterly deserted By every virtue, as thou tellest me, And with iniquity is big and covered, But I beseech thee point me out the cause, That I may see it, and to others show it; For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it." A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai! He first sent forth, and then began he: Father, The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it! Ye who are living every cause refer Still upward to the heavens, as if all things They of necessity moved with themselves. If this were so, in you would be destroyed Free will, nor any justice would there be In having joy for good, or grief for evil. The heavens your movements do initiate, I say not all; but granting that I say it, Light has been given you for good and evil, And free volition; which, if some fatigue In the first battles with the heavens it suffers, Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured.
To greater force and to a better nature, Though free, ye subject are, and that creates The mind in you the heavens have not in charge. Hence, if the present world doth go astray, In you the cause is, be it sought in you; And I therein will now be thy true spy.
"This is a spirit divine, who in the way Of going up directs us without asking, And who with his own light himself conceals. He does with us as man doth with himself; For he who sees the need, and waits the asking, Malignly leans already towards denial.
Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be The seed within yourselves of every virtue, And every act that merits punishment. Now inasmuch as never from the welfare Of its own subject can love turn its sight, From their own hatred all things are secure; And since we cannot think of any being Standing alone, nor from the First divided, Of hating Him is all desire cut off. Hence if, discriminating, I judge well, The evil that one loves is of one's neighbor, And this is born in three modes in your clay. There are, who, by abasement of their neighbor, Hope to excel, and therefore only long That from his greatness he may be cast down There are who power, grace, honor, and renown Fear they may lose because another rises, Thence are so sad that the reverse they love; And there are those whom injury seems to chafe, So that it makes them greedy for revenge, And such must needs shape out another's harm. This threefold love is wept for down below; Now of the other will I have thee hear, That runneth after good with measure faulty.
The soul, which is created apt to love, Is mobile unto everything that pleases, Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action. Your apprehension from some real thing An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it.
And if, when turned, towards it she incline, Love is that inclination; it is nature, Which is by pleasure bound in you anew Then even as the fire doth upward move By its own form, which to ascend is born, Where longest in its matter it endures, So comes the captive soul into desire, Which is a motion spiritual, and ne'er rests Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved. Now may apparent be to thee how hidden The truth is from those people, who aver All love is in itself a laudable thing; Because its matter may perchance appear Aye to be good; but yet not each impression Is good, albeit good may be the wax."
And as my countenance was lifted up, Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful Had rested from the strewing of the flowers; And, still but little reassured, mine eyes Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster, That is one person only in two natures. Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green, She seemed to me far more her ancient self To excel, than others here, when she was here.
From the most holy water I returned Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage, Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
the glory of Him who moveth everything I Doth penetrate the universe, and shine In one part more and in another less. Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go.
"The greatest gift that in his largess God Creating made, and unto his own goodness Nearest conformed, and that which he doth prize Most highly, is the freedom of the will, Wherewith the creatures of intelligence Both all and only were and are endowed.
Neither their wax, nor that which tempers it, Remains immutable, and hence beneath The ideal signet more and less shines through; Therefore it happens, that the selfsame tree After its kind bears worse and better fruit, And ye are born with characters diverse. If in perfection tempered were the wax, And were the heaven in its supremest virtue, The brilliance of the seal would all appear; But nature gives it evermore deficient, In the like manner working as the artist, Who has the skill of art and hand that trembles.
So from the lights that there to me appeared Upgathered through the cross a melody, Which rapt me, not distinguishing the hymn. Well was I ware it was of lofty laud, Because there came to me, "Arise and conquer!"
"Through me the way is to the city dolent; Through me the way is to eternal dole; Through me the way among the people lost. Justice incited my sublime Creator; Created me divine Omnipotence, The highest Wisdom and the primal Love. Before me there were no created things, Only eterne, and I eternal last. All hope abandon, ye who enter in!" These words in somber color I beheld Written upon the summit of a gate”
"This miserable mode Maintain the melancholy souls of those Who lived withouten infamy or praise. Commingled are they with that caitiff choir Of Angels, who have not rebellious been, Nor faithful were to God, but were for self. The heavens expelled them, not to be less fair; Nor them the nethermore abyss receives, For glory none the damned would have from them."
"The anguish of the people Who are below here in my face depicts That pity which for terror thou hast taken Let us go on, for the long way impels us. Thus he went in, and thus he made me enter The foremost circle that surrounds the abyss.”
For such defects, and not for other guilt, Lost are we, and are only so far punished, That without hope we live on in desire. Great grief seized on my heart when this I heard, Because some people of much worthiness I knew, who in that Limbo were suspended.
Thus I descended out of the first circle Down to the second, that less space begirds, And so much greater dole, that goads to wailing. There standeth Minos horribly, and snarls; Examines the transgressions at the entrance; Judges, and sends according as he girds him.
I came into a place mute of all light, Which bellows as the sea does in a tempest, If by opposing winds 't is combated. The infernal hurricane that never rests Hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine; Whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. When they arrive before the precipice, There are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments, There they blaspheme the puissance divine. I understood that unto such a torment The carnal malefactors were condemned, Who reason subjugate to appetite.
Love, that on gentle heart doth swiftly seize, Seized this man for the person beautiful That was ta'en from me, and still the mode offends me Love, that exempts no one beloved from loving, Seized me with pleasure of this man so strongly, That, as thou seest, it doth not yet desert me; Love has conducted us unto one death; Caina waiteth him who quenched our life!" These words were borne along from them to us. As soon as I had heard those souls tormented, I bowed my face, and so long held it down Until the Poet said to me: "What thinkest?" When I made answer, I began: "Alas! How many pleasant thoughts, how much desire, Conducted these unto the dolorous pass!"
In the third circle am I of the rain Eternal, maledict, and cold, and heavy; Its law and quality are never new. Huge hail, and water somber-hued, and snow, Athwart the tenebrous air pour down amain; Noisome the earth is, that receiveth this.
Thus we descended into the fourth chasm, Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore Which all the woe of the universe insacks. Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many New toils and sufferings as I beheld? And why doth our transgression waste us so?
Here saw I people, more than elsewhere, many, On one side and the other, with great howls, Rolling weights forward by main force of chest. They clashed together, and then at that point Each one turned backward, rolling retrograde, Crying, "Why keepest?" and, "Why squanderest thou?"
Let us descend now unto greater woe; Already sinks each star that was ascending When I set out, and loitering is forbidden. We crossed the circle to the other bank, Near to a fount that boils, and pours itself Along a gully that runs out of it.
A marsh it makes, which has the name of Styx, This tristful brooklet, when it has descended Down to the foot of the malign gray shores. And I, who stood intent upon beholding, Saw people mud-besprent in that lagoon, All of them naked and with angry look. They smote each other not alone with hands, But with the head and with the breast and feet, Tearing each other piecemeal with their teeth.
They all are full of spirits maledict; But that hereafter sight alone suffice thee, Hear how and wherefore they are in constraint. Of every malice that wins hate in Heaven, Injury is the end, and all such end Either by force or fraud affected others. But because fraud is man's peculiar vice, More it displeases God; and so stand lowest The fraudulent, and greater dole assails them. All the first circle of the Violent is; But since force may be used against three persons, In three rounds 'tis divided and constructed. To God, to ourselves, and to our neighbor can we Use force; I say on them and on their things, As thou shalt hear with reason manifest.
Fraud, wherewithal is every conscience stung, A man may practice upon him who trusts, And him who doth no confidence imburse. This latter mode, it would appear, deserves Only the bond of love which Nature makes; Wherefore within the second circle nestle Hypocrisy, flattery, and who deals in magic, Falsification, theft, and simony, Panders, and barrators, and the like filth.
Now will I have thee know, the other time I here descended to the nether Hell, This precipice had not yet fallen down. But truly, if I well discern, a little Before His coming who the mighty spoil Bore off from Dis, in the supernal circle, Upon all sides the deep and loathsome valley Trembled so, that I thought the Universe Was thrilled with love, by which there are who think The world ofttimes converted into chaos; And at that moment this primeval crag Both here and elsewhere made such overthrow. But fix thine eyes below; for draweth near The river of blood, within which boiling is Whoe'er by violence doth injure others."
When the exasperated soul abandons The body whence it rent itself away, Minos consigns it to the seventh abyss. It falls into the forest, and no part Is chosen for it, but where Fortune hurls it, There like a grain of spelt it germinates. It springs a sapling, and a forest tree, The Harpies, feeding then upon its leaves, Do pain create, and for the pain an outlet.
For all on one side towards the Castle Their faces have, and go unto Saint Peter's, On the other side they go towards the Mountain This side and that, along the livid stone Beheld I horned demons with great scourges, Who cruelly were beating them behind. Ah me! how they did make them lift their legs At the first blows! and sooth not any one The second waited for, nor for the third.
Thereby Cocytus wholly was congealed. With six eyes did he weep, and down three chins Trickled the teardrops and the bloody drivel. At every mouth he with his teeth was crunching A sinner, in the manner of a brake, So that he three of them tormented thus. To him in front the biting was as naught Unto the clawing, for sometimes the spine Utterly stripped of all the skin remained. "That soul up there which has the greatest pain," The Master said, "is Judas Iscariot; With head inside, he plies his legs without. Of the two others, who head downward are, The one who hangs from the black jowl is Brutus; See how he writhes himself, and speaks no word. And the other, who so stalwart seems, is Cassius. But night is ascending, and 'tis time That we depart, for we have seen the whole."
Of a small rivulet, that there descendeth Through chasm within the stone, which it has gnawed With course that winds about and slightly falls. The Guide and I into that hidden road Now entered, to return to the bright world, And without care of having any rest We mounted up, he first and I the second, Till I beheld through a round aperture Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear, Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail The little vessel of my genius now, That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel; And of that second kingdom will I sing Wherein the human spirit doth purge itself, And to ascend to heaven becometh worthy.
True is it, who in contumacy dies Of Holy Church, though penitent at last, Must wait upon the outside this bank Thirty times told the time that he has been In his presumption, unless such decree Shorter by means of righteous prayers become.
And from beneath it he drew forth two keys. One was of gold, and the other was of silver; First with the white, and after with the yellow, Plied he the door, so that I was content. "Whenever faileth either of these keys So that it turn not rightly in the lock," He said to us, "this entrance doth not open. More precious one is, but the other needs More art and intellect ere it unlock, For it is that which doth the knot unloose. From Peter I have them; and he bade me err Rather in opening than in keeping shut, If people but fall down before my feet.”
O ye proud Christians! wretched, weary ones! Who, in the vision of the mind infirm Confidence have in your backsliding steps, Do ye not comprehend that we are worms, Born to bring forth the angelic butterfly That flieth unto judgment without screen? Why floats aloft your spirit high in air? Like are you unto insects undeveloped, Even as the worm in whom formation fails!
But you take in the bait so that the hook Of the old Adversary draws you to him, And hence availeth little curb or call. The heavens are calling you, and wheel around you, Displaying to you their eternal beauties, And still your eye is looking on the ground; Whence He, who all discerns, chastises you."
The world forsooth is utterly deserted By every virtue, as thou tellest me, And with iniquity is big and covered, But I beseech thee point me out the cause, That I may see it, and to others show it; For one in the heavens, and here below one puts it." A sigh profound, that grief forced into Ai! He first sent forth, and then began he: Father, The world is blind, and sooth thou comest from it! Ye who are living every cause refer Still upward to the heavens, as if all things They of necessity moved with themselves. If this were so, in you would be destroyed Free will, nor any justice would there be In having joy for good, or grief for evil. The heavens your movements do initiate, I say not all; but granting that I say it, Light has been given you for good and evil, And free volition; which, if some fatigue In the first battles with the heavens it suffers, Afterwards conquers all, if well 'tis nurtured.
To greater force and to a better nature, Though free, ye subject are, and that creates The mind in you the heavens have not in charge. Hence, if the present world doth go astray, In you the cause is, be it sought in you; And I therein will now be thy true spy.
"This is a spirit divine, who in the way Of going up directs us without asking, And who with his own light himself conceals. He does with us as man doth with himself; For he who sees the need, and waits the asking, Malignly leans already towards denial.
Hence thou mayst comprehend that love must be The seed within yourselves of every virtue, And every act that merits punishment. Now inasmuch as never from the welfare Of its own subject can love turn its sight, From their own hatred all things are secure; And since we cannot think of any being Standing alone, nor from the First divided, Of hating Him is all desire cut off. Hence if, discriminating, I judge well, The evil that one loves is of one's neighbor, And this is born in three modes in your clay. There are, who, by abasement of their neighbor, Hope to excel, and therefore only long That from his greatness he may be cast down There are who power, grace, honor, and renown Fear they may lose because another rises, Thence are so sad that the reverse they love; And there are those whom injury seems to chafe, So that it makes them greedy for revenge, And such must needs shape out another's harm. This threefold love is wept for down below; Now of the other will I have thee hear, That runneth after good with measure faulty.
The soul, which is created apt to love, Is mobile unto everything that pleases, Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action. Your apprehension from some real thing An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it.
And if, when turned, towards it she incline, Love is that inclination; it is nature, Which is by pleasure bound in you anew Then even as the fire doth upward move By its own form, which to ascend is born, Where longest in its matter it endures, So comes the captive soul into desire, Which is a motion spiritual, and ne'er rests Until she doth enjoy the thing beloved. Now may apparent be to thee how hidden The truth is from those people, who aver All love is in itself a laudable thing; Because its matter may perchance appear Aye to be good; but yet not each impression Is good, albeit good may be the wax."
And as my countenance was lifted up, Mine eye perceived those creatures beautiful Had rested from the strewing of the flowers; And, still but little reassured, mine eyes Saw Beatrice turned round towards the monster, That is one person only in two natures. Beneath her veil, beyond the margent green, She seemed to me far more her ancient self To excel, than others here, when she was here.
From the most holy water I returned Regenerate, in the manner of new trees That are renewed with a new foliage, Pure and disposed to mount unto the stars.
the glory of Him who moveth everything I Doth penetrate the universe, and shine In one part more and in another less. Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go.
"The greatest gift that in his largess God Creating made, and unto his own goodness Nearest conformed, and that which he doth prize Most highly, is the freedom of the will, Wherewith the creatures of intelligence Both all and only were and are endowed.
Neither their wax, nor that which tempers it, Remains immutable, and hence beneath The ideal signet more and less shines through; Therefore it happens, that the selfsame tree After its kind bears worse and better fruit, And ye are born with characters diverse. If in perfection tempered were the wax, And were the heaven in its supremest virtue, The brilliance of the seal would all appear; But nature gives it evermore deficient, In the like manner working as the artist, Who has the skill of art and hand that trembles.
So from the lights that there to me appeared Upgathered through the cross a melody, Which rapt me, not distinguishing the hymn. Well was I ware it was of lofty laud, Because there came to me, "Arise and conquer!"
Some people say that you either hate Dante, or you love him.
I'm still not sure.
I'm still not sure.
I have finished the whole thing! Inferno to Paradiso, and what a journey it was! I feel like you miss something if you only read Inferno. You miss the creativity and ingenuity of Purgatorio and the iridescent mysticism if Paradiso.