Death in Life, Life in Death: Canto XXXIII of Inferno, Translated by Stephen Binns

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Death in Life, Life in Death:
Canto XXXIII of Inferno

by Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)
translated by Stephen Binns

The sinner raised his face from that foul meal ____shade eating another’s head
__and wiped his mouth then with hair that once was
__upon the head that he consumed with zeal.
Then he began: “You ask me now to pause
__to speak of grief so great it still brings tears.
__It breaks my heart in two parts, but because
my words to you might be a seed that bears
__the fruit of infamy for him I eat,
__I’ll pour the mournful story in your ears.
Who you may be, by what powers you now meet
__with us in this place, I’d be at a loss
__to guess. Florentine it seems by speech so sweet.
Count Ugolino, you may know, I was. ____Pisan Guelf who conspired with Ghibellines
__With Bishop Ruggieri I am pent. ____archbishop of Pisa, whose head he is eating
__I’ll tell you why we stay so very close.
I trusted him and therefore underwent
__a prison and a death by treachery.__
__You must know this, but news was never sent
in detail of the most cruel agony
__of my sore death. This now will I fulfill,
__then you decide if he offended me.
A slit of window in that house of ill
__called Hunger Tower for me, name too true— ____in Pisa
__within which others are now rotting still—
allowed my eyesight many moons to view ____months
__between the bars. I slept the sleep of want,
__in which tomorrow’s veil was rent in two. ____in dreams
This one appeared as leader of a hunt. ____Archbishop Ruggieri in one dream
__There was a wolf and pups that he had chased ____representing Ugolino and his sons
__where Lucca’s blocked from Pisa. Out in front ____by Monte di San Giuliano
of shrewd and starved and avid pack he’d placed
__Gualandi, Sismondi, and Lanfranchi ____Pisan Ghibellines
__to find the prey. The father and sons traced
but a short course when they slowed wearily
__and weakened. Then I thought I saw ahead
__their flanks ripped by the hounds’ teeth, totally. ____of the sons, or “pups”
Before the dawn, the dream and I in bed,
__I woke and heard my sons, who seemed to sleep,
__who cried out woes and seemed to ask for bread.
You’re heartlessness itself if you can keep
__your tears inside at thought of what I’d feel
__within my heart. And if you do not weep,
what makes you weep? The hour when the meal
__was usually brought drew nigh. They all had stirred, ____his four sons
__and each was saddened by what dreams reveal.
And from the base of that drear tower I heard
__the sound of gates now being boarded up.
__I looked to them. I did not say a word.
Most stonily my own face I had kept.
__‘What is it, Papa? How strange you appear,’
__Anselmo, smallest, youngest of them, wept.
I did not say a thing nor shed a tear,
__not all day long nor in the night till dawn,
__until I saw a second sun blaze clear.
When wisps of light fell into my prison
__and I saw staring back from their dismay
__four faces full of what I’d undergone,
I bit my hands in my mad grief, and they,
__who thought this was from hunger, then did move
__at once together, and I heard them pray:
‘Papa, it would far less painfully prove
__if you were eating us: you dressed us with
__this wretched flesh. Our flesh again remove.’
I set to spare them. Earth of living death!
__Why did you never open, open wide?
__For two days we were still. Before the fifth,
Gaddo, the eldest, collapsed and fell and cried
__down at my feet against the prison wall.
__‘And, Papa, you don’t help me?’ Then he died.
Just as you see me now, I saw them fall
__and one by one for two days, forced to see.
__And then, now blinded, I commenced to call ____from hunger
to each of them and shook each vigorously.
__Two days I cried their names. The answer: none. ____fifth and sixth days
__Then hunger overwhelmed my misery.” ____he died
His eyes were closed when all was said and done.
__He seized the skull again between his hands
__and gnawed it as a dog will gnaw a bone.
O Pisa, putrid pustule on the lands
__where sì will sound. The nearest to your kind ____Italy, where sì is “yes”
__are slow to charge into where foulness stands,
so may Caprara or Gorgona take a mind ____two islands at the mouth of the Arno
__and dam up Arno, making it a shore, ____river through Pisa (and Florence)
__until it drowns all there that it can find.
For if to Ugolino goes this store ____Ugolino della Gherardesca
__for treason, why would you treat sons the same?
__Why would you give to children pains so sore?
You modern Thebes! They were too young for blame— ____known for cruelty
Brigatta, Uguccione, the others of the lot, ____the two sons not named above
__the other ones I’ve wept for in my rhyme.
__We passed on farther, where the frozen plot
entombs another group, of greater cries.
__These ghosts lie flat; bowed over they are not.
__Their very weeping seals up all their eyes,
and grief that has no outlet, no release,
__turns inward, where the pain forever lies.
__The first tears that they cry will simply freeze
within the sockets; as they hold that place, ____their tears
__a crystal blindfold forms where they there cease.
__Despite this I stood still upon that base.
I was as numb as any callus growth,
__with all sensation deadened in my face,
__then felt a wind begin to blow us both. ____him and Virgil
At that I said: “What goes so bracingly?
__You said that nothing stirs here, by your troth.”
__My master said to me: “Soon you will be
where your own eyes will see and you will know,
__shown all the answers to your mystery.” ____winds caused by Satan’s flapping wings
__And one of those locked in that frozen way
cried out to us: “O souls so cruel, such bane,
__that you are sent to that most extreme bay: ____Judecca, the lowest Hell
__release me for a little from the strain
of this ice mask; I’d weep for just this day,
__before the weeping freezes my eyes again.”
__And I: “If I did not release this vise
and be of service when you’ve told your name,
__may I fall to the depth of all this ice.”
__“I am Frer Alberigo” came promptly, ____ordered a brother and nephew killed at a banquet
“the man whose fruits grew in a place of vice. ____signal to the killers: “Bring on the fruit course!”
____Here dates for figs are given back to me.” ____dates costlier than figs; punishment exceeds sin
__I burst: “Oh then! You are already dead?”
“What happened to me—meaning bodily—
__I do not know. I get no news,” he said.
__“One privilege in Ptolomea, it appears: ____zone named for a Ptolomy in 1 Maccabees
great many souls fall down into this stead
__before Atropos cuts the thread with shears. ____the Fate who cuts the thread of life
__So you might scrape the tears that coat my face: ____frozen tears coating his eyes
when soul betrays as I did, ere death nears,
__it falls from flesh. A devil for a spell
__will rule the body, till its time is spare,
while ruined soul lies down within this well.
__So there’s still evidence, I will now dare,
__on earth above, of what was once a man,
who’s now a shade, who’s here behind my own.
__If only now your tour down here began,
__in your sweet world you surely must have known
him: Branca d’Oria, here he’s dead, ____murdered his father-in-law at another banquet
__and years have passed since from the earth he’d gone.”
__“You’re trying now to fool me,” I then said.
“Ser Branca d’Oria has a life, for which
__he eats, he drinks, he sleeps the night in bed.”
__“Michel Zanche had not yet reached the ditch ____the father-in-law
of the Black Talons, where the unredeemed, __demons of the Eighth Circle
__the worst of sinners, simmer in black pitch,
__when this one left his body to a fiend,
as did the nephew, second at treachery,
__and fell like lead to where we’re quarantined.
__But now reach out your hand, then let me be.”
I did not keep my promise, stretch it out, ____to clear the ice from his eyes
__for rudeness to him was a courtesy.
__Ah, Genova, corruption’s strong redoubt,
forgetting all of good, how far you fell!
__Why have you not from earth been given rout?
__For with the worst Romagnan shades in Hell
I found a Genovese there within, ____Branca d’Oria
__who bathes in icy filth in that eternal
__glacier of Coctyus for his dark sin,
while he would seem in space and time again.

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Italian Original

La bocca sollevò dal fiero pasto
quel peccator, forbendola a’ capelli
del capo ch’elli avea di retro guasto.
Poi cominciò: “Tu vuo’ ch’io rinovelli
disperato dolor che ’l cor mi preme
già pur pensando, pria ch’io ne favelli.
Ma se le mie parole esser dien seme
che frutti infamia al traditor ch’i’ rodo,
parlar e lagrimar vedrai insieme.
Io non so chi tu se’ né per che modo
venuto se’ qua giù; ma fiorentino
mi sembri veramente quand’ io t’odo.
Tu dei saper ch’i’ fui conte Ugolino,
e questi è l’arcivescovo Ruggieri:
or ti dirò perché i son tal vicino.
Che per l’effetto de’ suo’ mai pensieri,
fidandomi di lui, io fossi preso
e poscia morto, dir non è mestieri;
però quel che non puoi avere inteso,
cioè come la morte mia fu cruda,
udirai, e saprai s’e’ m’ha offeso.
Breve pertugio dentro da la Muda,
la qual per me ha ’l titol de la fame,
e che conviene ancor ch’altrui si chiuda,
m’avea mostrato per lo suo forame
più lune già, quand’ io feci ’l mal sonno
che del futuro mi squarciò ’l velame.
Questi pareva a me maestro e donno,
cacciando il lupo e ’ lupicini al monte
0per che i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno.
Con cagne magre, studïose e conte
Gualandi con Sismondi e con Lanfranchi
s’avea messi dinanzi da la fronte.
In picciol corso mi parieno stanchi
lo padre e ’ figli, e con l’agute scane
mi parea lor veder fender li fianchi.
Quando fui desto innanzi la dimane,
pianger senti’ fra ’l sonno i miei figliuoli
ch’eran con meco, e dimandar del pane.
Ben se’ crudel, se tu già non ti duoli
pensando ciò che ’l mio cor s’annunziava;
e se non piangi, di che pianger suoli?
Già eran desti, e l’ora s’appressava
che ’l cibo ne solëa essere addotto,
e per suo sogno ciascun dubitava;
e io senti’ chiavar l’uscio di sotto
a l’orribile torre; ond’ io guardai
nel viso a’ mie’ figliuoi sanza far motto.
Io non piangëa, sì dentro impetrai:
piangevan elli; e Anselmuccio mio
disse: ‘Tu guardi sì, padre! che hai?’
Perciò non lagrimai né rispuos’ io
tutto quel giorno né la notte appresso,
infin che l’altro sol nel mondo uscìo.
Come un poco di raggio si fu messo
nel doloroso carcere, e io scorsi
per quattro visi il mio aspetto stesso,
ambo le man per lo dolor mi morsi;
ed ei, pensando ch’io ’l fessi per voglia
di manicar, di sùbito levorsi
e disser: ‘Padre, assai ci fia men doglia
se tu mangi di noi: tu ne vestisti
queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia.’
Queta’mi allor per non farli più tristi;
lo dì e l’altro stemmo tutti muti;
ahi dura terra, perché non t’apristi?
Poscia che fummo al quarto dì venuti,
Gaddo mi si gittò disteso a’ piedi,
dicendo: ‘Padre mio, ché non m’aiuti?’
Quivi morì; e come tu mi vedi,
vid’ io cascar li tre ad uno ad uno
tra ’l quinto dì e ’l sesto; ond’ io mi diedi,
già cieco, a brancolar sovra ciascuno,
e due dì li chiamai, poi che fur morti.
Poscia, più che ’l dolor, poté ’l digiuno.”
Quand’ ebbe detto ciò, con li occhi torti
riprese ’l teschio misero co’ denti,
che furo a l’osso, come d’un can, forti.
Ahi Pisa, vituperio de le genti
0del bel paese là dove ’l sì suona,
poi che i vicini a te punir son lenti,
muovasi la Capraia e la Gorgona,
faccian siepe ad Arno in su la foce,
sì ch’elli annieghi in te ogne persona!
Che se ’l conte Ugolino aveva voce
d’aver tradita te de le castella,
non dovei tu i figliuoi porre a tal croce.
Innocenti facea l’età novella,
novella Tebe, Uguiccione e ’l Brigata
e li altri due che ’l canto suso appella.
Noi passammo oltre, là ’ve la gelata
ruvidamente un’altra gente fascia,
non volta in giù, ma tutta riversata.
Lo pianto stesso lì pianger non lascia,
e ’l duol che truova in su li occhi rintoppo,
si volge in entro a far crescer l’ambascia;
ché le lagrime prime fanno groppo,
e sì come visiere di cristallo,
rïempion sotto ’l ciglio tutto il coppo.
E avvegna che, sì come d’un callo,
per la freddura ciascun sentimento
cessato avesse del mio viso stallo,
già mi parea sentire alquanto vento;
per ch’io: “Maestro mio, questo chi move?
non è qua giù ogne vapore spento?”
Ond’ elli a me: “Avaccio sarai dove
di ciò ti farà l’occhio la risposta,
veggendo la cagion che ’l fiato piove.”
E un de’ tristi de la fredda crosta
gridò a noi: “O anime crudeli
tanto che data v’è l’ultima posta,
levatemi dal viso i duri veli,
sì ch’ïo sfoghi ’l duol che ’l cor m’impregna,
un poco, pria che ’l pianto si raggeli.”
Per ch’io a lui: “Se vuo’ ch’i’ ti sovvegna,
dimmi chi se’, e s’io non ti disbrigo,
al fondo de la ghiaccia ir mi convegna.”
Rispuose adunque: “I’ son frate Alberigo;
i’ son quel da le frutta del mal orto,
che qui riprendo dattero per figo.”
“Oh,” diss’ io lui, “or se’ tu ancor morto?”
Ed elli a me: “Come ’l mio corpo stea
nel mondo sù, nulla scïenza porto.
Cotal vantaggio ha questa Tolomea,
che spesse volte l’anima ci cade
innanzi ch’Atropòs mossa le dea.
E perché tu più volentier mi rade
le ’nvetrïate lagrime dal volto,
sappie che, tosto che l’anima trade
come fec’ ïo, il corpo suo l’è tolto
da un demonio, che poscia il governa
mentre che ’l tempo suo tutto sia vòlto.
Ella ruina in sì fatta cisterna;
e forse pare ancor lo corpo suso
de l’ombra che di qua dietro mi verna.
Tu ’l dei saper, se tu vien pur mo giuso:
elli è ser Branca Doria, e son più anni
poscia passati ch’el fu sì racchiuso.”
“Io credo,” diss’ io lui, “che tu m’inganni;
ché Branca Doria non morì unquanche,
e mangia e bee e dorme e veste panni.”
“Nel fosso sù,” diss’ el, “de’ Malebranche,
là dove bolle la tenace pece,
non era ancora giunto Michel Zanche,
che questi lasciò il diavolo in sua vece
nel corpo suo, ed un suo prossimano
che ’l tradimento insieme con lui fece.
Ma distendi oggimai in qua la mano;
aprimi li occhi.” E io non gliel’ apersi;
e cortesia fu lui esser villano.
Ahi Genovesi, uomini diversi
d’ogne costume e pien d’ogne magagna,
perché non siete voi del mondo spersi?
Ché col peggiore spirto di Romagna
trovai di voi un tal, che per sua opra
in anima in Cocito già si bagna,
e in corpo par vivo ancor di sopra.

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Stephen Binns is an editor at the Smithsonian (the institution, not the magazine). His most recently published poetry appeared in the January 2023 issue of First Things.

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