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(Continues after part 1)

Stopped to talk, and then “Since his voice now dries”,
Told poet to me, “your time don’t lose, be fast;
But speak, and ask him, if like that more arise”.

And I to him: “Let you again questions cast
About what you imagine for me are good;
‘Cause I can’t, by pity being harassed”.

Thus he started: “If this man to do should
Freely what you asked him acting with pray,
Soul imprisoned, please yet again you could

Tell us how souls are bonded in such way
Within these knots; and tell us, if you can,
If any of those  can ever go away”.

Then strongly blew the trunk, and such a fan
Became in short a voice which sudden made:
“In brief an answer out of here will span.

When the wild spirit is finally conveyed
Out of body from which itself  could rip,
Minos sends it to the seventh down grade.

It falls in the wood, and for choice no tip;
But only where the randomness throws it,
There sprouting as a grain of spelt ends trip.

It grows as bush and as wild tree to fit;
And Harpies, wildly eating then its leaves,
Cause real pain, and also to pain new slit.

As others each one its spoils back achieves,
But then no one with those  again might dress
Because of their own life they had been thieves.

Here we shall drag back, and in distress
Of  this wood will be hanged our bodies then,
Each one to bramble of his shadow mess”.

We were still to the trunk attentive men,
Thinking from him we had to hear words more,
When we were surprised by a noise again,

Similar to the one which makes the boar
Approaching when is hunted in the wood,
And barking dogs, and twigs are rustling fore.

And now two guys who on the left coast stood
Naked and scratched, were so much escaping fast,
That in the wood all branches break they could.

The one further: “Now come, come, death to blast!”
And the other, who too late looked to be,
Shouted: “Lano, not were so unsurpassed

Your legs at Toppo’s  rides indeed to see!”
And then perhaps because his force he lost,
His body joined to a shrub no more free.

To follow them the wood was crowded crossed
By black *****es, running and so greedy went
As were greyhounds both unchained and tossed.

In the one who stopped then their teeth indent,
And tearing him with wildness piece by piece;
Carry away dismembered with torment.

And my guide kept my hand with act so nice,
And brought me close to the  shrub which cried
For the bloody ruptures in vain to cease.

“O Jacopo”, told, from Santandrea tied,
How helped you to use me to you as screen?
How is my fault with your bad life implied?”

When my master was over him to  lean,
Told “who were you, that were just wounded so
That blow painful words in a gory scene?” 

And to us: “O souls who came here to know
And see the shameful agony of  here
Where my branches were broken and thrown low,

Gather them around the sad bush quite near.
I was from city where  the Baptist came
Replacing the first lord; and he to veer

Always with his arts will then hurt and blame;
And if it were not true that Arno site
Has no sign of him at all and no fame,

Those citizens who it refounded quite
Over the ashes which Attila had left,
Would have worked for nothing then despite.

I made gibbet of  my house  life's bereft”
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