A review by anders_holbaek
The Inferno by Dante Alighieri

5.0

"In that season of the youthful year
when the sun cools his locks beneath Aquarius
and the dark already nears but half the day.

and when the hoarfrost copies out upon the fields
the very image of her snowy sister -
although her pen-point is not sharp for long -

the peasant, short of fodder, rises,
looks out, and sees the countryside
turned white, at which he slaps his thigh,

goes back indoors, grumbling here and there
like a wretch who knows not what to do,
then goes outside again and is restored to hope,

seeing that the world has changed its face
in that brief time, and now picks up his crook
and drives his sheep to pasture."