

Paradiso: Canto I
The glory of Him who moveth
everything
Doth penetrate the universe,
and shine
In one part more and in
another less.
Within that heaven which
most his light receives
Was I, and things beheld
which to repeat
Nor knows, nor can, who from
above descends;
Because in drawing near to
its desire
Our intellect ingulphs itself
so far,
That after it the memory
cannot go.
Truly whatever of the holy
realm
I had the power to treasure
in my mind
Shall now become the subject
of my song.
O good Apollo, for this last
emprise
Make of me such a vessel of
thy power
As giving the beloved laurel
asks!
One summit of Parnassus
hitherto
Has been enough for me, but
now with both
I needs must enter the arena
left.
Enter into my bosom, thou,
and breathe
As at the time when Marsyas
thou didst draw
Out of the scabbard of those
limbs of his.
O power divine, lend'st thou
thyself to me
So that the shadow of the
blessed realm
Stamped in my brain I can
make manifest,
Thou'lt see me come unto thy
darling tree,
And crown myself thereafter
with those leaves
Of which the theme and thou
shall make me worthy.
So seldom, Father, do we
gather them
For triumph or of Caesar or
of Poet,
(The fault and shame of human
inclinations,)
That the Peneian foliage
should bring forth
Joy to the joyous Delphic
deity,
When any one it makes to
thirst for it.
A little spark is followed
by great flame;
Perchance with better voices
after me
Shall prayer be made that
Cyrrha may respond!
To mortal men by passages
diverse
Uprises the world's lamp; but
by that one
Which circles four uniteth
with three crosses,
With better course and with
a better star
Conjoined it issues, and the
mundane wax
Tempers and stamps more after
its own fashion.
Almost that passage had made
morning there
And evening here, and there
was wholly white
That hemisphere, and black
the other part,
When Beatrice towards the
left-hand side
I saw turned round, and
gazing at the sun;
Never did eagle fasten so
upon it!
And even as a second ray is
wont
To issue from the first and
reascend,
Like to a pilgrim who would
fain return,
Thus of her action, through
the eyes infused
In my imagination, mine I
made,
And sunward fixed mine eyes
beyond our wont.
There much is lawful which
is here unlawful
Unto our powers, by virtue of
the place
Made for the human species as
its own.
Not long I bore it, nor so
little while
But I beheld it sparkle round
about
Like iron that comes molten
from the fire;
And suddenly it seemed that
day to day
Was added, as if He who has
the power
Had with another sun the
heaven adorned.
With eyes upon the
everlasting wheels
Stood Beatrice all intent,
and I, on her
Fixing my vision from above
removed,
Such at her aspect inwardly
became
As Glaucus, tasting of the
herb that made him
Peer of the other gods
beneath the sea.
To represent transhumanise
in words
Impossible were; the example,
then, suffice
Him for whom Grace the
experience reserves.
If I was merely what of me
thou newly
Createdst, Love who governest
the heaven,
Thou knowest, who didst lift
me with thy light!
When now the wheel, which
thou dost make eternal
Desiring thee, made me
attentive to it
By harmony thou dost modulate
and measure,
Then seemed to me so much of
heaven enkindled
By the sun's flame, that
neither rain nor river
E'er made a lake so widely
spread abroad.
The newness of the sound and
the great light
Kindled in me a longing for
their cause,
Never before with such
acuteness felt;
Whence she, who saw me as I
saw myself,
To quiet in me my perturbed
mind,
Opened her mouth, ere I did
mine to ask,
And she began: "Thou makest
thyself so dull
With false imagining, that
thou seest not
What thou wouldst see if thou
hadst shaken it off.
Thou art not upon earth, as
thou believest;
But lightning, fleeing its
appropriate site,
Ne'er ran as thou, who
thitherward returnest."
If of my former doubt I was
divested
By these brief little words
more smiled than spoken,
I in a new one was the more
ensnared;
And said: "Already did I
rest content
From great amazement; but am
now amazed
In what way I transcend these
bodies light."
Whereupon she, after a
pitying sigh,
Her eyes directed tow'rds me
with that look
A mother casts on a delirious
child;
And she began: "All things
whate'er they be
Have order among themselves,
and this is form,
That makes the universe
resemble God.
Here do the higher creatures
see the footprints
Of the Eternal Power, which
is the end
Whereto is made the law
already mentioned.
In the order that I speak of
are inclined
All natures, by their
destinies diverse,
More or less near unto their
origin;
Hence they move onward unto
ports diverse
O'er the great sea of being;
and each one
With instinct given it which
bears it on.
This bears away the fire
towards the moon;
This is in mortal hearts the
motive power
This binds together and
unites the earth.
Nor only the created things
that are
Without intelligence this bow
shoots forth,
But those that have both
intellect and love.
The Providence that
regulates all this
Makes with its light the
heaven forever quiet,
Wherein that turns which has
the greatest haste.
And thither now, as to a
site decreed,
Bears us away the virtue of
that cord
Which aims its arrows at a
joyous mark.
True is it, that as
oftentimes the form
Accords not with the
intention of the art,
Because in answering is
matter deaf,
So likewise from this course
doth deviate
Sometimes the creature, who
the power possesses,
Though thus impelled, to
swerve some other way,
(In the same wise as one may
see the fire
Fall from a cloud,) if the
first impetus
Earthward is wrested by some
false delight.
Thou shouldst not wonder
more, if well I judge,
At thine ascent, than at a
rivulet
From some high mount
descending to the lowland.
Marvel it would be in thee,
if deprived
Of hindrance, thou wert
seated down below,
As if on earth the living
fire were quiet."
Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.
Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text is Copyright © Richard G Lowe, Jr.