Paradiso: Canto XXIII
Previous Contents Next
Even as a bird, 'mid the
beloved leaves,
Quiet upon the nest of her sweet
brood
Throughout the
night, that
hideth all
things from us,
Who, that she may
behold their
longed-for looks
And find the food
wherewith to
nourish them,
In which, to her, grave
labours grateful are,
Anticipates the time on open spray
And with an
ardent longing waits the sun,
Gazing intent as soon as
breaks the
dawn:
Even thus my Lady standing was, erect
And vigilant, turned round towards the zone
Underneath which the sun displays less haste;
So that beholding her
distraught and
wistful,
Such I became as he is who desiring
For something yearns, and hoping is
appeased.
But brief the space from one When to the
other;
Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing
The welkin grow resplendent more and more.
And
Beatrice exclaimed: "Behold the hosts
Of
Christ's
triumphal march, and all the
fruit
Harvested by the
rolling of these
spheres!"
It seemed to me her face was all
aflame;
And eyes she had so full of
ecstasy
That I must needs pass on without
describing.
As when in nights serene of the full moon
Smiles
Trivia among the
nymphs eternal
Who paint the
firmament through all its gulfs,
Saw I, above the
myriads of lamps,
A
Sun that one and all of them
enkindled,
E'en as our own doth the
supernal sights,
And through the living light
transparent shone
The lucent substance so intensely clear
Into my sight, that I
sustained it not.
O
Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear!
To me she said: "What
overmasters thee
A virtue is from which naught
shields itself.
There are the wisdom and the
omnipotence
That oped the
thoroughfares 'twixt heaven and earth,
For which there erst had been so long a
yearning."
As fire from out a cloud
unlocks itself,
Dilating so it finds not room therein,
And down, against its nature, falls to earth,
So did my mind, among those
aliments
Becoming
larger, issue from itself,
And that which it became cannot
remember.
"Open thine eyes, and look at what I am:
Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough
Hast thou become to tolerate my smile."
I was as one who still retains the feeling
Of a forgotten
vision, and
endeavours
In vain to bring it back into his mind,
When I this
invitation heard,
deserving
Of so much
gratitude, it never fades
Out of the book that
chronicles the past.
If at this moment sounded all the tongues
That
Polyhymnia and her sisters made
Most
lubrical with their
delicious milk,
To aid me, to a
thousandth of the truth
It would not reach
, singing the holy
smile
And how the holy aspect it
illumed.
And therefore,
representing Paradise,
The sacred poem must
perforce leap over,
Even as a
man who finds his way
cut off;
But whoso thinketh of the
ponderous theme,
And of the
mortal shoulder laden with it,
Should blame it not, if under this it
tremble.
It is no passage for a little
boat
This which goes
cleaving the audacious prow,
Nor for a pilot who would spare himself.
"Why doth my face so much
enamour thee,
That to the garden fair
thou turnest not,
Which under the rays of
Christ is blossoming?
There is the Rose in which the
Word Divine
Became
incarnate; there the lilies are
By whose
perfume the good way was discovered."
Thus
Beatrice; and I, who to
her counsels
Was wholly ready, once again
betook me
Unto the
battle of the
feeble brows.
As in the
sunshine, that
unsullied streams
Through
fractured cloud, ere
now a
meadow of flowers
Mine eyes with
shadow covered o'er have seen,
So troops of
splendours manifold I saw
Illumined from above with
burning rays,
Beholding not the source of the
effulgence.
O power
benignant that dost so
imprint them!
Thou didst exalt thyself to give more
scope
There to mine eyes, that were not strong enough.
The name of that fair flower I e'er invoke
Morning and evening utterly
enthralled
My soul to
gaze upon the
greater fire.
And when in both mine eyes depicted were
The
Glory and
greatness of the
living star
Which there
excelleth, as it here
excelled,
Athwart the heavens a little
torch descended
Formed in a circle like a
coronal,
And
cinctured it, and whirled itself about it.
Whatever melody most
sweetly soundeth
On earth, and to itself most
draws the soul,
Would seem a
cloud that, rent asunder,
thunders,
Compared unto the
sounding of that
lyre
Wherewith was
crowned the
sapphire beautiful,
Which gives the
clearest heaven its
sapphire hue.
"I am
Angelic Love, that circle round
The joy sublime which
breathes from out the womb
That was the hostelry of our
Desire;
And I shall circle, Lady of
Heaven,
while
Thou followest thy Son, and mak'st
diviner
The sphere supreme, because thou
enterest there."
Thus did the
circulated melody
Seal itself up; and all the other
lights
Were making to resound the name of
Mary.
The regal mantle of the volumes all
Of that world, which most fervid is and living
With breath of
God and with his works and ways,
Extended over us its inner
border,
So very distant, that the
semblance of it
There where I was not yet
appeared to me.
Therefore mine eyes did not possess the power
Of
following the
incoronated flame,
Which mounted upward near to its own seed.
And as a little child, that towards its mother
Stretches its arms, when it the milk has taken,
Through impulse kindled into outward flame,
Each of those gleams of
whiteness upward
reached
So with its
summit, that the deep
affection
They had for
Mary was
revealed to me.
Thereafter they
remained there in my sight,
'
Regina coeli' singing with such sweetness,
That ne'er from me has the delight
departed.
O, what
exuberance is garnered up
Within those richest
coffers, which had been
Good husbandmen for sowing here below!
There they enjoy and live upon the treasure
Which was acquired while weeping in the exile
Of
Babylon, wherein the gold was left.
There triumpheth, beneath the exalted Son
Of
God and
Mary, in his
victory,
Both with the ancient
council and the new,
He who doth keep the
keys of
such a
Glory.
Previous Contents Next