The Dark Wood: Canto I of Dante’s Inferno, Translated by Stephen Binns

.

The Dark Wood: Canto I of Dante’s Inferno

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

Midway along the journey of our days
__I found myself astray in a dark wood,
__for lost was right direction in that maze.
How hard a thing to speak of how it stood:
__how dense the wood, how difficult the course.
__The very thought renews the chill of blood.
So bitter was it, death is scarcely worse,
__and yet to tell of all the good I’d see,
__all other things I saw I’ll now rehearse.
My entrance there is lost to memory.
__I felt filled up with sleep, deep in a daze,
__when from truth’s way I wandered waywardly.
But after I had reached a mountain’s base,
__delimiting the valley, rising tall
__above what pierced my heart in that low place,
I lifted up my eyes and saw a shawl
__of light around its shoulders, the sun’s bright ____the “shoulders” of the mount
__and warming rays, which are a guide to all.
And so came ease to dread, however slight,
__the dread that plumbed my heart’s lake to its depth
__while I so piteously passed the night.
And as a swimmer who, with labored breath,
__will crawl to safety from a parlous sea,
__then turn to memorize his own near death,
just so my soul, which still seemed trying to flee:
__I looked upon that pass of mortal fear,
__which never let a living being be. ____suggestive of Jeremiah 2:6
Then after time to rest my body there,
__I made my way through deserts high and wide,
__and always kept a firm-fixed foot at rear. ____he was climbing
Not far along the slope of mountainside,
__a leopard, light of step, did then appear, ____first of three beasts also in Jeremiah 5:6
__bedecked all over with its maculate hide. ____leopard perhaps a symbol of lust
It would not move, but stood as barrier.
__I turned and every turn it would deter.
__I turned round to turn back; no way was clear.
This happened when the morning was astir.
__The sun was rising with the Aries sign, ____as was the case, it was believed, at Creation
__the stars revolving, as they ever were,
once given motion by divine design.
__And so the lissome, gaily colored beast
__seemed of a piece with that time, gladsome, fine,
the season and the hour of day, at least
__until new vistas brought new fear to bear:
__a lion made advance and never ceased. ____perhaps a symbol of pride or wrath
It was, I then could see as it pressed near,
__irate with hunger, holding high its head.
__There seemed a tremor to the very air.
A she-wolf then. Though lean, as though ill-fed, ____perhaps a symbol of avarice
__she looked well-glutted with mere appetite,
__that one who’d made so many so wretched.
The terror coming from her very sight!
__The pain she caused me was so great, again
__I lost all hope of mounting one more height,
and like that miser, happy to obtain,
__who when times change and fortune follows suit
__will weep for every loss of every gain,
just so was I, sore vexed, irresolute.
__The beast was coming at a stealthy creep,
__which drove me back to where the sun is mute.
As I went rushing down, by bound, by leap,
__before my eyes a figure halted me,
__weak-voiced and wan, it seemed, from silent sleep.
Across the waste, I called vociferously:
__“Whatever you may be, a ghost or man,
__have mercy on me.” That was my one plea.
“Not man, though once I was,” he then began. ____Virgil
__“My parents both were born in Lombardy,
__and both of them were native Mantuan.
I came to birth sub Julio, tardily, ____in Julius Caesar’s last days
__and under good Augustus lived at Rome,
__in times of false and lying deity.
I was a poet, and my poem sang home ____the Aeneid
__the just son of Anchises, who’d left Troy,
__Aeneas, who to our own shores had come ____Italy
when Greece had laid the fires to destroy
__proud Ilium. But you, why return thence, ____Troy
__to troubles? Why not climb that Mount of Joy,
joy’s cause, its reason, its sole provenance?”
__“And you are, then, that Virgil, and that fount
__of speech that deepens into eloquence?”
I answered, and I bowed my shame-filled front.
__“O every other poet’s honored light!
__May my great love avail, my diligent
close study of your volume day and night.
__My master, author worthiest of praise:
__You see the beast that made me turn in flight.
Save me from her, you of the style whose grace
__has on myself so much honor bestowed. ____for Dante’s “sweet style,” inspired by Virgil
__My very blood is traveling apace!”
“Now you must travel by another road,”
__he said when he saw tears upon my face,
__“if you wish to escape this wild wood.
That beast, of which you cry, in no known case
__has left a person free to pass this way,
__but each impedes, all those strayed souls she slays.
She is by nature of such malign sway
__her avid appetite stays with her still,
__and even grows, the more she eats away.
And many are the animals who will
__be mate to her, until a day at hand:
__the hound will make of her a painful kill. ____perhaps Cangrande della Scala of Verona
That hound will not be fed with pelf or land,
__but feed on wisdom, virtue’s truest friend, ____Cangrande (Big Dog) was a Dante patron
__and rise between where those two Feltri stand. ____Verona, between Feltre and Montefeltro
Italia’s humbled lowlands he’ll defend,
__for which Camilla and Euryalus died,
__and Nisus, Turnus, wounded without mend. ____all discussed in the Aeneid
That hound will hunt through towns and countryside
__until he has returned her to her Hell,
__whence she was freed first by invidious pride.
I therefore think and judge you would do well
__to follow me, and I will lead you where
__the wicked go, that place perpetual,
where you will hear the shrieks of their despair,
__where ancient spirits cry out, as one choir,
__for second death, in pain they cannot bear. ____perhaps drawn from Revelation 9:6
And you’ll see some contented in a fire: ____in Purgatory
__they hope that, late or soon, they’ll reach the end
__where blessed ones go; to this they may aspire. ____in Heaven
And if you wish, yourself, so to ascend,
__another then will be your guiding star, ____Beatrice
__one worthier. On her you must depend.
The Emperor who’s reigning there must bar ____God, rarely named in the Inferno
__all coming through me to His great city,
__because I did not know what His laws are. ____he died before the time of Christianity
He rules in every part, as you will see.
__That Emperor has there a throne on high.
__Oh, happy His elect will ever be!”
“O Poet, what I ask,” was my reply,
__“is that, by God, the God you never knew,
__so from this and worse evil I might fly,
now lead me to the limits of your view,
__to see St. Peter’s gate and those consigned,
__as you have said, to sorrows—guide me through.”
And then he moved. I followed hard behind.

__

Italian Original
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.
Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte
che nel pensier rinova la paura!
Tant’ è amara che poco è più morte;
ma per trattar del ben ch’i’ vi trovai,
dirò de l’altre cose ch’i’ v’ho scorte.
Io non so ben ridir com’ i’ v’intrai,
tant’ era pien di sonno a quel punto
che la verace via abbandonai.
Ma poi ch’i’ fui al piè d’un colle giunto,
là dove terminava quella valle
che m’avea di paura il cor compunto,
guardai in alto, e vidi le sue spalle
vestite già de’ raggi del pianeta
che mena dritto altrui per ogne calle.
Allor fu la paura un poco queta
che nel lago del cor m’era durata
la notte ch’i’ passai con tanta pieta.
E come quei che con lena affannata
uscito fuor del pelago a la riva
si volge a l’acqua perigliosa e guata,
così l’animo mio, ch’ancor fuggiva,
si volse a retro a rimirar lo passo
che non lasciò già mai persona viva.
Poi ch’èi posato un poco il corpo lasso,
ripresi via per la piaggia diserta,
sì che ’l piè fermo sempre era ’l più basso.
Ed ecco, quasi al cominciar de l’erta,
una lonza leggera e presta molto,
che di pel macolato era coverta;
e non mi si partia dinanzi al volto,
anzi ’mpediva tanto il mio cammino,
ch’i’ fui per ritornar più volte vòlto.
Temp’ era dal principio del mattino,
e ’l sol montava ’n sù con quelle stelle
ch’eran con lui quando l’amor divino
mosse di prima quelle cose belle;
sì ch’a bene sperar m’era cagione
di quella fiera a la gaetta pelle
l’ora del tempo e la dolce stagione;
ma non sì che paura non mi desse
la vista che m’apparve d’un leone.
Questi parea che contra me venisse
con la test’ alta e con rabbiosa fame,
sì che parea che l’aere ne tremesse.
Ed una lupa, che di tutte brame
sembiava carca ne la sua magrezza,
e molte genti fé già viver grame,
questa mi porse tanto di gravezza
con la paura ch’uscia di sua vista,
ch’io perdei la speranza de l’altezza.
E qual è quei che volontieri acquista,
e giugne ’l tempo che perder lo face,
che ’n tutti suoi pensier piange e s’attrista;
tal mi fece la bestia sanza pace,
che, venendomi ’ncontro, a poco a poco
mi ripigneva là dove ’l sol tace.
Mentre ch’i’ rovinava in basso loco,
dinanzi a li occhi mi si fu offerto
chi per lungo silenzio parea fioco.
Quando vidi costui nel gran diserto,
Miserere di me,” gridai a lui,
“qual che tu sii, od ombra od omo certo!”
Rispuosemi: “Non omo, omo già fui,
e li parenti miei furon lombardi,
mantoani per patrïa ambedui.
Nacqui sub Iulio, ancor che fosse tardi,
e vissi a Roma sotto ’l buono Augusto
nel tempo de li dèi falsi e bugiardi.
Poeta fui, e cantai di quel giusto
figliuol d’Anchise che venne di Troia,
poi che ’l superbo Ilión fu combusto.
Ma tu perché ritorni a tanta noia?
perché non sali il dilettoso monte
ch’è principio e cagion di tutta gioia?”
“Or se’ tu quel Virgilio e quella fonte
che spandi di parlar sì largo fiume?”
rispuos’ io lui con vergognosa fronte.
“O de li altri poeti onore e lume
vagliami ’l lungo studio e ’l grande amore
che m’ha fatto cercar lo tuo volume.
Tu se’ lo mio maestro e ’l mio autore;
tu se’ solo colui da cu’ io tolsi
lo bello stilo che m’ha fatto onore.
Vedi la bestia per cu’ io mi volsi:
aiutami da lei, famoso saggio,
ch’ella mi fa tremar le vene e i polsi.”
“A te convien tenere altro vïaggio,”
rispuose poi che lagrimar mi vide,
“se vuo’ campar d’esto loco selvaggio;
ché questa bestia, per la qual tu gride,
non lascia altrui passar per la sua via,
ma tanto lo ’mpedisce che l’uccide;
e ha natura sì malvagia e ria,
che mai non empie la bramosa voglia,
e dopo ’l pasto ha più fame che pria.
Molti son li animali a cui s’ammoglia,
e più saranno ancora, infin che ’l veltro
verrà, che la farà morir con doglia.
Questi non ciberà terra né peltro,
ma sapïenza, amore e virtute,
e sua nazion sarà tra feltro e feltro.
Di quella umile Italia fia salute
per cui morì la vergine Cammilla,
Eurialo e Turno e Niso di ferute.
Questi la caccerà per ogne villa,
fin che l’avrà rimessa ne lo ’nferno,
là onde ’nvidia prima dipartilla.
Ond’ io per lo tuo me’ penso e discerno
che tu mi segui, e io sarò tua guida,
e trarrotti di qui per loco etterno,
ove udirai le disperate strida,
vedrai li antichi spiriti dolenti,
ch’a la seconda morte ciascun grida;
e vederai color che son contenti
nel foco, perché speran di venire
quando che sia a le beate genti.

A le quai poi se tu vorrai salire,
anima fia a ciò più di me degna:
con lei ti lascerò nel mio partire;
ché quello imperador che là sù regna,
perch’ i’ fu’ ribellante a la sua legge,
non vuol che ’n sua città per me si vegna.
In tutte parti impera e quivi regge;
quivi è la sua città e l’alto seggio:
oh felice colui cu’ ivi elegge!”
E io a lui: “Poeta, io ti richeggio
per quello Dio che tu non conoscesti,
acciò ch’io fugga questo male e peggio,
che tu mi meni là dov’or dicesti,
sì ch’io veggia la porta di san Pietro
e color cui tu fai cotanto mesti.”
Allor si mosse, e io li tenni dietro.

.

.

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.

Trending now: