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Canto XXVII Hell transalation

Already was straight up the flame and steady To speak no more, and yet away it went Being the sweet poet to let it ready, When another, which followed in ascent, Made us to turn our eyes to top from low Since emitted sound with confused accent. As the Sicilian ox first had to low With tears of the one, and this was right, Who it annealed before with his rasp though, With the voice of afflicted bellow might, So that, although completely of copper done, It looked as was by pain speared wight; So, having no way and outcome no one Starting from fire, in its language thus Were converted its wretched words to stun. But after they ended their trip with fuss Up to the top, giving that wriggle dart Which gave the tongue when were passing and plus, We heard to tell: “O you whom I impart My voice and who now as a Lombard spoke Telling “you must go, no more I take part” Even though I came with a quite late stroke, Don’t mind to stay and speak a while with me; You see that I do not mind, I invoke! If you just now this lost blind world to see Have fallen from that really sweet land Latin for which of fault I pay the fee, Tell me if Romagna has peace at hand; Since I lived between Urbino’s hills there And the mount where Tiber starts to disband”. I was still down bent to hear him and stare, When my duke touched me on my body side, Telling: “This is Latin; you speak aware”. And I, just having the answer implied, Straightaway started then to speak to him: O soul who are hidden down there beside, Your Romagna was never keen to trim Wars in minds and hearts of its oppressors; But none was there when now I left its rim. Ravenna is as were predecessors: The da Polenta eagle there can brood, So Cervia covers with its lessors. The land which before suffered the long mood And of the French the bloody bunch as well, Under the green domain are just now viewed. The old and Verrucchio new mastiff fell, Who of Montagna bad disposal made, There where they stay then use their teeth to swell. The Lamone’s and Santerno’s cities laid Under the small lion reign with white nest Which season by season changes side grade. And the one which Savio wets at west, As it seats between the flat land and hill, Between tyranny and freedom lives best. Now who you are, I beg you tell now will; You ought to be less tough than others were, If your name in world is well valued still”. When the fire had bellowed much to blur In its own way, it moved then its sharp tip Here, beyond, and then this breath could spur: “If I could believe that my answer grip A person who by chance world could reach just, This flame should then stay at rest with no flip; But since yet never from this site cussed Came back alive no one, if I hear true, With no fear of blemish answer entrust. Man at arms I was, and then friar skew, Sure, so encircled, to my faults repair; And certainly my faith could success view, If not were the great priest, blasted unfair!, Who induced to my prior faults then me; And you understand how, and which, and where. While of flesh and bones I had chance to be Which my mother well gave me, my work was Not of lion, but of fox, I agree. The tricks and hidden ways a juggler does I knew in full, exerting them so far, That at end out of earth came out the buzz. When I saw myself have reached not afar From age where everybody should just Drop the sails and the shrouds collect on spar, What before I liked, I felt then disgust, And repented and avowed I became; Oh wretched weary! And it might adjust. The leader of modern Phariseans same, Having a war Laterano’s nearby, And not with Saracens or Jews, for shame, Since all his enemies were Christian by, And no one had been in Acri to win Nor in Soldano’s land a merchant guy, Neither highest office nor holy skin He considered himself, nor cord in me Which had used to make the girded more thin. But as Constantine Silvestro asked to be Within Soracte his leprosy to heal, So this one asked me to give the key To heal him the arrogant fever appeal; He asked me the advice, and I was still Because his words looked to me mad for real. And then he told again: “Your heart trust will; Absolve you by now, and you teach to do So Palestrina to ground I raze until. I can close or clear heaven’s door to you, As you just well know; but there are two keys Which my predecessor didn’t care for true”. I was then pushed by arguments as these Where to be silent might be then the worst, And told: “Father, since then to wash you please The sin I must fall in which is cursed, A long lasting promise with waiting short Shall make you triumphant to the seat first”. Francis then came, when I was dead by sort To save me; but one of the cherubs black Told him: “Do not abduct; Don’t do me tort. He must come down with my wretched track Because he gave the fraudulent advice, For which I am called to his hair attack; Since can’t be shrived who can’t regret devise, Neither together can’t repent and will For the contradiction which is precise”. Oh painful me! How much a sorrow thrill When he grabbed me sudden telling: “Maybe You did not think I had a logic skill!. He brought me to Minos; who enfolded me Eight times with tail to my breast around; And biting it with rage, so hard to see, Told: “This in sinners fire must be bound”; Thus where you are seeing me I am lost, And so dressed, while going, I am now downed”. When he ended to talk this way at last, The flame went away expressing his pain By twisting the sharp horn also quite tossed. We passed beyond, and I with my duke main, Up to the rock until we reached next arch Which covers the trench of sinners in vain Whose fault of betting compels them to march.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 12/31/2014 6:15:00 AM
Dear Mario: Thank you for the support my friend. Here's wishing you and your loved ones A Happy New Year filled with peace, joy and love. All my best wishes on the last day of 2014, Leon.
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Mario DE PAZ
Date: 12/31/2014 12:37:00 PM
Thank you, Leon, Happy new year to you from Italy!
Date: 12/15/2014 10:57:00 PM
Compelling story made for an enjoyable read, well done my friend!
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Mario DE PAZ
Date: 12/16/2014 8:56:00 AM
Thank you, Lyric, it is good to hear that Hell is enjoyable. With no irony, Dante's masterpiece cannot be reproduced in english at the very high poetry level of the original, which is written in arcaic italian, fabolous!