Paradiso: Canto I
Contents Next
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.
Contents Next