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Inferno

Год написания книги
2019
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She brought upon me so much heaviness,

With the affright that from her aspect came,

That I the hope relinquished of the height.

And as he is who willingly acquires,

And the time comes that causes him to lose,

Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,

E’en such made me that beast withouten peace,

Which, coming on against me by degrees

Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent.

While I was rushing downward to the lowland,

Before mine eyes did one present himself,

Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.

When I beheld him in the desert vast,

“Have pity on me,” unto him I cried,

“Whiche’er thou art, or shade or real man!”

He answered me: “Not man; man once I was,

And both my parents were of Lombardy,

And Mantuans by country both of them.

‘Sub Julio’ was I born, though it was late,

And lived at Rome under the good Augustus,

During the time of false and lying gods.

A poet was I, and I sang that just

Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,

After that Ilion the superb was burned.

But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?

Why climb’st thou not the Mount Delectable,

Which is the source and cause of every joy?”

“Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain

Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?”

I made response to him with bashful forehead.

“O, of the other poets honour and light,

Avail me the long study and great love

That have impelled me to explore thy volume!

Thou art my master, and my author thou,

Thou art alone the one from whom I took

The beautiful style that has done honour to me.

Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;

Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage,

For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble.”

“Thee it behoves to take another road,”

Responded he, when he beheld me weeping,

“If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;

Because this beast, at which thou criest out,

Suffers not any one to pass her way,

But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;

And has a nature so malign and ruthless,

That never doth she glut her greedy will,

And after food is hungrier than before.

Many the animals with whom she weds,

And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound
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