PURGATORY. Данте Алигьери
Читать онлайн книгу.
to do the best I could. First, the good judge
stabbed in court by that man of blood, Tacco;
Guccio who, fleeing Campoldino,
10 was swallowed too by Arno’s stormy flood;
the Pisan who forgave the enemies
who slew his son; Frederick Novello;
13 Count Orso; Peter Brosse wrongly hanged
by the Queen of Brabant. (Let her beware
of joining ugly company in Hell.)
16 When free of these and others begging me
to tell their kindred they needed prayers
I begged my guide, “Master, enlighten me.
19 Your Aeneid says that divine decree
cannot be altered by the human will.
Surely that means these beg my help in vain?”
“I wrote plain truth,” said he, “but wrote before 22
God came in mercy to humanity,
was born as a divinely honest man
who suffered and defeated wretched death. 25
Since then, when justice is embraced by love
in a last moment of pure penitence,
justice and mercy form one healing flame. 28
Be patient if you do not understand.
Enlightenment awaits you high above,
smiling in bliss. Her name is Beatrice.” 31
I shouted, “Master, let us hurry up!
I am not tired now, and before sun sets
will climb up very fast to reach the top.” 34
“Before that Heavenly event,” said he,
“the sun will set twice more, but just ahead
sits one who may know an easier ascent.” 37
Him we approached was Lombard. With calm pride
he gazed on us as resting lions do
out of moving eyes. When Virgil asked 40
where lay the way up he did not say,
but asked from where we came. My leader said,
“Mantua,” at which the soul, leaping up, 43
embraced him, cried, “My city! Know that I,
Sordello, am poet of Mantua,
only excelled by one born long ago.” 46
Then Virgil happily embraced him too.
O Italy, you hostelry of slaves!
49 You vessel, captainless in stormy sea!
Why cannot souls who love their cities well
co-operate to keep their country whole?
52 Even within a single city wall
new money fights with old, each wrestling for
a strangle-hold, making alliances
55 with foreigners through bribery, bad pacts
which are not kept, preventing unity.
There is no peace within Italian shores.
58 Unlike beehives who recognise a queen
you are a brothel, ruled by squabbling whores.
The Emperor Justinian once made
61 a legal code to pacify his land
which other lands employ – not Italy,
which won’t submit to legal spurs and bit.
64 None is allowed to take the reins in hand.
Devout priests should obey our Lord’s command
and let a Caesar ride our Latin steed.
67 O German Albert, Holy Roman King,
all Europe should be yours, but you don’t heed
its central garden which has run to seed.
70 Come, govern us! Our wretched noblemen,
Montagues, Capulets, Filippeschi,
Monaldi dread each other! Unite us
73 under one head we all should recognise!
Rome, a poor widow, weeps for your great work
of restoration. Pity and help Rome
become the Queen of Christendom again 76
or pity your reputation. And may
almighty Jove, once crucified for us,
not turn away from our chaotic state. 79
Tyrants dominate Italian towns
where mob-rule is not led by rascal clowns.
My Florence, this digression won’t touch you 82
where citizens take public good to heart
and to their tongue. You are too smart for rule
by mob or tyrant. Athens and Sparta 85
did not legislate constantly like you.
Elsewhere folk dodge the burdens of the state –
your people grab for office before asked, 88
and so are peaceful, rich – except when not!
You change your constitution in a week,
laws, government and coinage restlessly, 91
improving nothing like a sick woman
tossing and turning in her bed and sure
each new position may achieve a cure. 94
7: The Climb Halts
1 Those Mantuans, Sordello and my guide,
embraced each other happily until
the first drew back enquiring, “Who are you?”
4 “A soul from Hell,” the greater poet said.
“Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome,
buried my bones before the Christian faith
7 let saved souls make a staircase of this hill,
so I, Virgil, will not reach paradise.”
Like one who thinks, “This is . . . it cannot be!
10 It must . . . but surely not?” Sordello stood
wondering, as if his eyes perceived
a marvel far too great to be believed,
13 then bowed as low as anybody could.
“You are the glory of the Latin race!”
he cried, “Through you our language is as strong,
16 will live as long, as Gospel scriptures do.
Tell me the miracle that brings you here,
and if you think me fit to know, from which
19 cloister of Hell.” Said Virgil, “I have come
through all the rings of Hell, but dwell with souls
who do not suffer pain. Ours is the state
of babies who die before christening 22
cleans