Dante Alighieri

Clive James

Presents a translation of Dante's allegorical poem.

lead me this way. Beyond this present ill

and worse to dread, lead me to Peter's gate

and be my guide through the sad halls of Hell.

My fears, at this, we’re somewhat quieted,

though terror, awash in the lake of my heart, 

had lasted all the night I’d passed in anguish. 

but, feasting well, is hungrier than before. 

He will not feed on dross or cash or gelt, 

but thrive in wisdom, virtue and pure love. 

Born he shall be between the felt and felt. 

and all those souls that you say are so sad. 

'Supposing I have heard your words aright,' the shadow of that noble mind replied, 'your heart is struck with ignominious dread.

This, very often, is the stumbling block that turns a noble enterprise off-course – as beasts will balk at shadows falsely seen.

"Since you desire to know so inwardly, then briefly," she replied, "I'll tell you why I feel no dread at entering down here.

We only dread an object when (but only wheb) that object has the power to do us harm. Nothing can otherwise occasion fear.

“She brought such heaviness upon my spirit at sight of her savagery and desperation, I died from every hope of that high summit.”