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Enjoy, Florence, because you so great are
That on seas and ground your wings you flutter,
And down in hell your name around spreads far!

I found five, among the stealers’ clutter,
Your citizens which then made me ashamed ,
And you sign of honor do not utter.

But if close to morn truthful dream is claimed,
You shall feel, in a time quite indeed short,
What Prato, and others, as hope declaimed.

And If already were,  it’s late by sort.
So it could be now, since it has to be!
Because, with age, it makes to me more tort.

We went away, and upstairs both we
Which had before descended in a rush,
My duke climbed again drawing me;

And keeping on the lonely way and hush,
Between the spikes and rocks of that mount steep
The foot could not proceed without hand push.

Then I felt pain, and now again pain weep
Putting my thought back to what I saw,
And more restrain then usual my mind deep,

To avoid its run with no virtue draw;
So that, if lucky star or better thing
Gave me the good, I take care with no flaw.

When yokel who to rest body can bring, 
At time when who gives to our world light bright
Puts face less hidden to us in its swing,

As fly to mosquito abandons flight,
He sees fireflies along the valley down,
Maybe just where he harvests and plows right:

Of as many flames shined all around
The eighth circle, so as I then could guess
When I reached where was clear the bottom brown.

And as who revenge with bears could address
Saw Elijah’s chariot go away,
When horses to sky just up moved their crests,  

And could not follow him and eyes array,
Seeing nothing else than only one flame,
Such as a little cloud, to sky up way:

Like that each one is moving in the frame
Of the deep ditch, for not one the theft shows,
And the sinner all flames catches as aim.

I stood up to see over the bridge close,
So that if I could not clamp a big rock
I should have fallen and no hit arose.

And my duke saw me the attention lock,
So told: “Within the fires two souls are;
Each one wraps other  in one fire bloc”.

“Master of mine”, I answered, “ I saw far
Hearing you; but I knew it already
That was so, and yet wanted tell how were:

Who is in that cut fire so heady
In upper part, that from pyre looks to rise
Where Eteocles with brother was ready?”

Answered: “Inside there do the tortured cries
Ulysses and Diomedes, together
To revenge go as well as to rage guise;

And within their flame sorrow them tether
For the horse ambush to open the door
Where came out Romans' gentle seed whether.

Because art is grieved just there since, dead core,
Deidamia Achilles cries still,
And of Palladio pain is outpour”.

“If they inside those flames can and will
Speak”, I told, “master, I beg you so much
And beg again, and thousand beg fulfill,

I don’t ask it comes fast in its crutch
But the horned flame should come at end here;
See I bend my will for a desire such!”.

And he to me: “Your prayer worthy dear
Of  much praise, and thus I accept;
But take your tongue to a stop and clear.

Let me to speak, because I clearly kept
What you now want; and they maybe refuse,
Since were Greek, what you say they don’t accept”.
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