THE DIVINE COMEDY: Inferno, Purgatorio & Paradiso (3 Classic Translations in One Edition). Dante Alighieri. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Dante Alighieri
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isbn: 9788027233335
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That, while we stay, we may enjoy delight."

       A little space we were remov'd from thence,

       When I perceiv'd the mountain hollow'd out.

       Ev'n as large valleys hollow'd out on earth,

       "That way," the' escorting spirit cried, "we go,

       Where in a bosom the high bank recedes:

       And thou await renewal of the day."

       Betwixt the steep and plain a crooked path

       Led us traverse into the ridge's side,

       Where more than half the sloping edge expires.

       Refulgent gold, and silver thrice refin'd,

       And scarlet grain and ceruse, Indian wood

       Of lucid dye serene, fresh emeralds

       But newly broken, by the herbs and flowers

       Plac'd in that fair recess, in color all

       Had been surpass'd, as great surpasses less.

       Nor nature only there lavish'd her hues,

       But of the sweetness of a thousand smells

       A rare and undistinguish'd fragrance made.

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       "Salve Regina," on the grass and flowers

       Here chanting I beheld those spirits sit

       Who not beyond the valley could be seen.

       "Before the west'ring sun sink to his bed,"

       Began the Mantuan, who our steps had turn'd,

       "'Mid those desires not that I lead ye on.

       For from this eminence ye shall discern

       Better the acts and visages of all,

       Than in the nether vale among them mix'd.

       He, who sits high above the rest, and seems

       To have neglected that he should have done,

       And to the others' song moves not his lip,

       The Emperor Rodolph call, who might have heal'd

       The wounds whereof fair Italy hath died,

       So that by others she revives but slowly,

       He, who with kindly visage comforts him,

       Sway'd in that country, where the water springs,

       That Moldaw's river to the Elbe, and Elbe

       Rolls to the ocean: Ottocar his name:

       Who in his swaddling clothes was of more worth

       Than Winceslaus his son, a bearded man,

       Pamper'd with rank luxuriousness and ease.

       And that one with the nose depress, who close

       In counsel seems with him of gentle look,

       Flying expir'd, with'ring the lily's flower.

       Look there how he doth knock against his breast!

       The other ye behold, who for his cheek

       Makes of one hand a couch, with frequent sighs.

       They are the father and the father-in-law

       Of Gallia's bane: his vicious life they know

       And foul; thence comes the grief that rends them thus.

       "He, so robust of limb, who measure keeps

       In song, with him of feature prominent,

       With ev'ry virtue bore his girdle brac'd.

       And if that stripling who behinds him sits,

       King after him had liv'd, his virtue then

       From vessel to like vessel had been pour'd;

       Which may not of the other heirs be said.

       By James and Frederick his realms are held;

       Neither the better heritage obtains.

       Rarely into the branches of the tree

       Doth human worth mount up; and so ordains

       He who bestows it, that as his free gift

       It may be call'd. To Charles my words apply

       No less than to his brother in the song;

       Which Pouille and Provence now with grief confess.

       So much that plant degenerates from its seed,

       As more than Beatrice and Margaret

       Costanza still boasts of her valorous spouse.

       "Behold the king of simple life and plain,

       Harry of England, sitting there alone:

       He through his branches better issue spreads.

       "That one, who on the ground beneath the rest

       Sits lowest, yet his gaze directs aloft,

       Us William, that brave Marquis, for whose cause

       The deed of Alexandria and his war

       Makes Conferrat and Canavese weep."

       Now was the hour that wakens fond desire

       In men at sea, and melts their thoughtful heart,

       Who in the morn have bid sweet friends farewell,

       And pilgrim newly on his road with love

       Thrills, if he hear the vesper bell from far,

       That seems to mourn for the expiring day:

       When I, no longer taking heed to hear

       Began, with wonder, from those spirits to mark

       One risen from its seat, which with its hand

       Audience implor'd. Both palms it join'd and rais'd,

       Fixing its steadfast gaze towards the east,

       As telling God, "I care for naught beside."

       "Te Lucis Ante," so devoutly then

       Came from its lip, and in so soft a strain,

       That all my sense in ravishment was lost.

       And the rest after, softly and devout,

       Follow'd through all the hymn, with upward gaze

       Directed to the bright supernal wheels.

       Here, reader! for the truth makes thine eyes keen:

       For of so subtle texture is this veil,

       That thou with ease mayst pass it through unmark'd.

       I saw that gentle band silently next

       Look up, as if in expectation held,

       Pale and in lowly guise; and from on high

       I saw forth issuing descend beneath

       Two angels with two flame-illumin'd swords,

       Broken and mutilated at their points.

       Green as the tender leaves but newly born,

       Their vesture was, the which by wings as green

       Beaten, they drew behind them, fann'd in air.

       A little over us one took his stand,

       The other lighted on the' Opposing hill,

       So that the troop were in the midst contain'd.

       Well I descried the whiteness on their heads;

       But in their visages the dazzled eye