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Lekhny post -07-Apr-2023

Inferno (English) - Dante Alighieri

 CANTO I


  ONE night, when half my life behind me lay, 
  I wandered from the straight lost path afar. 
  Through the great dark was no releasing way; 
  Above that dark was no relieving star. 
  If yet that terrored night I think or say, 
  As death's cold hands its fears resuming are. 
  
  Gladly the dreads I felt, too dire to tell, 
  The hopeless, pathless, lightless hours forgot, 
  I turn my tale to that which next befell, 
  When the dawn opened, and the night was not. 
  The hollowed blackness of that waste, God wot, 
  Shrank, thinned, and ceased. A blinding splendour hot 
  Flushed the great height toward which my footsteps fell, 
  And though it kindled from the nether hell, 
  Or from the Star that all men leads, alike 
  It showed me where the great dawn-glories strike 
  The wide east, and the utmost peaks of snow. 
  
  How first I entered on that path astray, 
  Beset with sleep, I know not. This I know. 
  When gained my feet the upward, lighted way, 
  I backward gazed, as one the drowning sea, 
  The deep strong tides, has baffled, and panting lies, 
  On the shelved shore, and turns his eyes to see 
  The league-wide wastes that held him. So mine eyes 
  Surveyed that fear, the while my wearied frame 
  Rested, and ever my heart's tossed lake became 
  More quiet. 
  Then from that pass released, which yet 
  With living feet had no man left, I set 
  My forward steps aslant the steep, that so, 
  My right foot still the lower, I climbed. 
                           
    Below 
  No more I gazed. Around, a slope of sand 
  Was sterile of all growth on either hand, 
  Or moving life, a spotted pard except, 
  That yawning rose, and stretched, and purred and leapt 
  So closely round my feet, that scarce I kept 
  The course I would. 
                  That sleek and lovely thing, 
  The broadening light, the breath of morn and spring, 
  The sun, that with his stars in Aries lay, 
  As when Divine Love on Creation's day 
  First gave these fair things motion, all at one 
  Made lightsome hope; but lightsome hope was none 
  When down the slope there came with lifted head 
  And back-blown mane and caverned mouth and red, 
  A lion, roaring, all the air ashake 
  That heard his hunger. Upward flight to take 
  No heart was mine, for where the further way 
  Mine anxious eyes explored, a she-wolf lay, 
  That licked lean flanks, and waited. Such was she 
  In aspect ruthless that I quaked to see, 
  And where she lay among her bones had brought 
  So many to grief before, that all my thought 
  Aghast turned backward to the sunless night 
  I left. But while I plunged in headlong flight 
  To that most feared before, a shade, or man 
  (Either he seemed), obstructing where I ran, 
  Called to me with a voice that few should know, 
  Faint from forgetful silence, "Where ye go, 
  Take heed. Why turn ye from the upward way?" 
  
  I cried, "Or come ye from warm earth, or they 
  The grave hath taken, in my mortal need 
  Have mercy thou!" 
                  He answered, "Shade am I, 
  That once was man; beneath the Lombard sky, 
  In the late years of Julius born, and bred 
  In Mantua, till my youthful steps were led 
  To Rome, where yet the false gods lied to man; 
  And when the great Augustan age began, 
  I wrote the tale of Ilium burnt, and how 
  Anchises' son forth-pushed a venturous prow, 
  Seeking unknown seas. But in what mood art thou 
  To thus return to all the ills ye fled, 
  The while the mountain of thy hope ahead 
  Lifts into light, the source and cause of all 
  Delectable things that may to man befall?" 
  
  I answered, "Art thou then that Virgil, he 
  From whom all grace of measured speech in me 
  Derived? O glorious and far-guiding star! 
  Now may the love-led studious hours and long 
  In which I learnt how rich thy wonders are, 
  Master and Author mine of Light and Song, 
  Befriend me now, who knew thy voice, that few 
  Yet hearken. All the name my work hath won 
  Is thine of right, from whom I learned. To thee, 
  Abashed, I gran

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