Canto I. The Dark Forest. The Hill of Difficulty. The Panther, the Lion, and the Wolf. Virgil.

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      Midway upon the journey of our life

       I found myself within a forest dark,

       For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

      Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say

       What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,

       Which in the very thought renews the fear.

      So bitter is it, death is little more;

       But of the good to treat, which there I found,

       Speak will I of the other things I saw there.

      I cannot well repeat how there I entered,

       So full was I of slumber at the moment

       In which I had abandoned the true way.

      But after I had reached a mountain's foot,

       At that point where the valley terminated,

       Which had with consternation pierced my heart,

      Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,

       Vested already with that planet's rays

       Which leadeth others right by every road.

      Then was the fear a little quieted

       That in my heart's lake had endured throughout

       The night, which I had passed so piteously.

      And even as he, who, with distressful breath,

       Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,

       Turns to the water perilous and gazes;

      So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,

       Turn itself back to re-behold the pass

       Which never yet a living person left.

      After my weary body I had rested,

       The way resumed I on the desert slope,

       So that the firm foot ever was the lower.

      And