by
Dante Alighieri

Canto I.
The Ascent to the First Heaven. The Sphere of Fire

The glory of Him who moveth everything
    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.

Truly whatever of the holy realm
    I had the power to treasure in my mind
    Shall now become the subject of my song.

O good Apollo, for this last emprise
    Make of me such a vessel of thy power
    As giving the beloved laurel asks!

One summit of Parnassus hitherto
    Has been enough for me, but now with both
    I needs must enter the arena left.

Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe
    As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw
    Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his.

O power divine, lend’st thou thyself to me
    So that the shadow of the blessed realm
    Stamped in my brain I can make manifest,

Thou’lt see me come unto thy darling tree,
    And crown myself thereafter with those leaves
    Of which the theme and thou shall make me worthy.

So seldom, Father, do we gather them
    For triumph or of Caesar or of Poet,
    (The fault and shame of human inclinations,)

That the Peneian foliage should bring forth
    Joy to the joyous Delphic deity,
    When any one it makes to thirst for it.

A little spark is followed by great flame;
    Perchance with better voices after me
    Shall prayer be made that Cyrrha may respond!

To mortal men by passages diverse
    Uprises the world’s lamp; but by that one
    Which circles four uniteth with three crosses,

With better course and with a better star
    Conjoined it issues, and the mundane wax
    Tempers and stamps more after its own fashion.

Almost that passage had made morning there
    And evening here, and there was wholly white
    That hemisphere, and black the other part,

When Beatrice towards the left-hand side
    I saw turned round, and gazing at the sun;
    Never did eagle fasten so upon it!

And even as a second ray is wont
    To issue from the first and reascend,
    Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,

Thus of her action, through the eyes infused
    In my imagination, mine I made,
    And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.

There much is lawful which is here unlawful
    Unto our powers, by virtue of the place
    Made for the human species as its own.

Not long I bore it, nor so little while
    But I beheld it sparkle round about
    Like iron that comes molten from the fire;

And suddenly it seemed that day to day
    Was added, as if He who has the power
    Had with another sun the heaven adorned.

With eyes upon the everlasting wheels
    Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her
    Fixing my vision from above removed,

Such at her aspect inwardly became
    As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him
    Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.

To represent transhumanise in words
    Impossible were; the example, then, suffice
    Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.

If I was merely what of me thou newly
    Createdst, Love who governest the heaven,
    Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light!

When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal
    Desiring thee, made me attentive to it
    By harmony thou dost modulate and measure,

Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled
    By the sun’s flame, that neither rain nor river
    E’er made a lake so widely spread abroad.

The newness of the sound and the great light
    Kindled in me a longing for their cause,
    Never before with such acuteness felt;

Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself,
    To quiet in me my perturbed mind,
    Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask,

And she began: “Thou makest thyself so dull
    With false imagining, that thou seest not
    What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.

Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest;
    But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site,
    Ne’er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.”

If of my former doubt I was divested
    By these brief little words more smiled than spoken,
    I in a new one was the more ensnared;

And said: “Already did I rest content
    From great amazement; but am now amazed
    In what way I transcend these bodies light.”

Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh,
    Her eyes directed tow’rds me with that look
    A mother casts on a delirious child;

And she began: “All things whate’er they be
    Have order among themselves, and this is form,
    That makes the universe resemble God.

Here do the higher creatures see the footprints
    Of the Eternal Power, which is the end
    Whereto is made the law already mentioned.

In the order that I speak of are inclined
    All natures, by their destinies diverse,
    More or less near unto their origin;

Hence they move onward unto ports diverse
    O’er the great sea of being; and each one
    With instinct given it which bears it on.

This bears away the fire towards the moon;
    This is in mortal hearts the motive power
    This binds together and unites the earth.

Nor only the created things that are
    Without intelligence this bow shoots forth,
    But those that have both intellect and love.

The Providence that regulates all this
    Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet,
    Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste.

And thither now, as to a site decreed,
    Bears us away the virtue of that cord
    Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark.

True is it, that as oftentimes the form
    Accords not with the intention of the art,
    Because in answering is matter deaf,

So likewise from this course doth deviate
    Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses,
    Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way,

(In the same wise as one may see the fire
    Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus
    Earthward is wrested by some false delight.

Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge,
    At thine ascent, than at a rivulet
    From some high mount descending to the lowland.

Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived
    Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below,
    As if on earth the living fire were quiet.”

Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.

Canto II.
The First Heaven, the Moon: Spirits Who, Having Taken Sacred Vows, Were Forced to Violate Them. The Lunar Spots

O Ye, who in some pretty little boat,
    Eager to listen, have been following
    Behind my ship, that singing sails along,

Turn back to look again upon your shores;
    Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure,
    In losing me, you might yourselves be lost.

The sea I sail has never yet been passed;
    Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo,
    And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.

Ye other few who have the neck uplifted
    Betimes to th’ bread of Angels upon which
    One liveth here and grows not sated by it,

Well may you launch upon the deep salt-sea
    Your vessel, keeping still my wake before you
    Upon the water that grows smooth again.