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After the flame had come here for news
When to my duke right seemed time and too place,
In such a way I heard him to diffuse:

“You two who are in the same fire space,
If with you in my life had merit some,
If my merit left you more or less trace

When in world I wrote verses high to come,
Do not move now, but one of you should say
Where, for him, lost and dead had to become”.

The larger horn of ancient flame array
Started then to shake himself while grumbling,
Like just as the one which wind hits away;

Then the summit back and forth was fumbling,
Like had its tongue just moving as to speak,
“When”, it loudly threw out his voice rumbling, 

“From Circe I left, who held me for freak 
More than one year there Gaeta just near,
Before Aeneas so named it, antique,

Neither the son’s sweetness, nor pity mere
Of ancient father, nor even love due
Which ought to Penelope give good cheer,

Could win in me the ardor hitherto
Which I had of world expert to become
And of human vices and value true;

But I put myself  in open sea come
With only a boat and those friend mates
Not many but who with me remained, some.

I saw then many shores and the Spain’s gates
Down to Morocco, and Sardi’s isle,
And others that sea wet around creates.

Me and companions were then old a while
When that narrow outlet we reached just close
There where Hercules put his true end pile

And hinder men go beyond to impose;
I left Sibilia on my right hand ,
On other left already Setta’s coasts.

“Brothers”, I told, “who for thousands of grand
Hazards now have just reached the extreme west,
To this so short time of life which is spanned

To our senses which then remains at best
You should not the experience deny,
Of back sun, world by no people possessed.

Consider now of your seed pearls the why:
You were made not just much as brutes to live,
But to follow virtue and knowledge high”.

My companions I made so keen to strive,
With this small oration, for the way start,
That then stop them hardly I might contrive;

And turned our stern at morning to depart,
Of oars we made then wings to our mad flight,
Always were gaining on the left hand part.

Already on the other pole stars’ light 
Saw night, and our sun too was so much low,
That did not rise above the marine site.

Five times was lighted up, as many no,
The light under the journey of the moon,
After start the arduous pass to go,

When far appeared a mountain, color brune
Due to the distance, and it looked so tall
That never I saw before and saw noone.

We were happy but we had to appall;
Since from the novel land a whirl was born
And then hard stroke of boat the first side wall.

Three times it made to swirl us with no warn;
At fourth it made the poop to be bent up
And too the bow go down, to give us mourn,

Until sea closed us to a final drop”.
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