Canto XXIII

by Dante

　　Even as a bird, 'mid the beloved leaves,

　　   Quiet upon the nest of her sweet brood

　　   Throughout the night, that hideth all things from us,

　　Who, that she may behold their longed-for looks

　　   And find the food wherewith to nourish them,

　　   In which, to her, grave labours grateful are,

　　Anticipates the time on open spray

　　   And with an ardent longing waits the sun,

　　   Gazing intent as soon as breaks the dawn:

　　Even thus my Lady standing was, erect

　　   And vigilant, turned round towards the zone

　　   Underneath which the sun displays less haste;

　　So that beholding her distraught and wistful,

　　   Such I became as he is who desiring

　　   For something yearns, and hoping is appeased.

　　But brief the space from one When to the other;

　　   Of my awaiting, say I, and the seeing

　　   The welkin grow resplendent more and more.

　　And Beatrice exclaimed: "Behold the hosts

　　   Of Christ's triumphal march, and all the fruit

　　   Harvested by the rolling of these spheres!"

　　It seemed to me her face was all aflame;

　　   And eyes she had so full of ecstasy

　　   That I must needs pass on without describing.

　　As when in nights serene of the full moon

　　   Smiles Trivia among the nymphs eternal

　　   Who paint the firmament through all its gulfs,

　　Saw I, above the myriads of lamps,

　　   A Sun that one and all of them enkindled,

　　   E'en as our own doth the supernal sights,

　　And through the living light transparent shone

　　   The lucent substance so intensely clear

　　   Into my sight, that I sustained it not.

　　O Beatrice, thou gentle guide and dear!

　　   To me she said: "What overmasters thee

　　   A virtue is from which naught shields itself.

　　There are the wisdom and the omnipotence

　　   That oped the thoroughfares 'twixt heaven and earth,

　　   For which there erst had been so long a yearning."

　　As fire from out a cloud unlocks itself,

　　   Dilating so it finds not room therein,

　　   And down, against its nature, falls to earth,

　　So did my mind, among those aliments

　　   Becoming larger, issue from itself,

　　   And that which it became cannot remember.

　　"Open thine eyes, and look at what I am:

　　   Thou hast beheld such things, that strong enough

　　   Hast thou become to tolerate my smile."

　　I was as one who still retains the feeling

　　   Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours

　　   In vain to bring it back into his mind,

　　When I this invitation heard, deserving

　　   Of so much gratitude, it never fades

　　   Out of the book that chronicles the past.

　　If at this moment sounded all the tongues

　　   That Polyhymnia and her sisters made

　　   Most lubrical with their delicious milk,

　　To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth

　　   It would not reach, singing the holy smile

　　   And how the holy aspect it illumed.

　　And therefore, representing Paradise,

　　   The sacred poem must perforce leap over,

　　   Even as a man who finds his way cut off;

　　But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme,

　　   And of the mortal shoulder laden with it,

　　   Should blame it not, if under this it tremble.

　　It is no passage for a little boat

　　   This which goes cleaving the audacious prow,

　　   Nor for a pilot who would spare himself.

　　"Why doth my face so much enamour thee,

　　   That to the garden fair thou turnest not,

　　   Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?

　　There is the Rose in which the Word Divine

　　   Became incarnate; there the lilies are

　　   By whose perfume the good way was discovered."

　　Thus Beatrice; and I, who to her counsels

　　   Was wholly ready, once again betook me

　　   Unto the battle of the feeble brows.

　　As in the sunshine, that unsullied streams

　　   Through fractured cloud, ere now a meadow of flowers

　　   Mine eyes with shadow covered o'er have seen,

　　So troops of splendours manifold I saw

　　   Illumined from above with burning rays,

　　   Beholding not the source of the effulgence.

　　O power benignant that dost so imprint them!

　　   Thou didst exalt thyself to give more scope

　　   There to mine eyes, that were not strong enough.

　　The name of that fair flower I e'er invoke

　　   Morning and evening utterly enthralled

　　   My soul to gaze upon the greater fire.

　　And when in both mine eyes depicted were

　　   The glory and greatness of the living star

　　   Which there excelleth, as it here excelled,

　　Athwart the heavens a little torch descended

　　   Formed in a circle like a coronal,

　　   And cinctured it, and whirled itself about it.

　　Whatever melody most sweetly soundeth

　　   On earth, and to itself most draws the soul,

　　   Would seem a cloud that, rent asunder, thunders,

　　Compared unto the sounding of that lyre

　　   Wherewith was crowned the sapphire beautiful,

　　   Which gives the clearest heaven its sapphire hue.

　　"I am Angelic Love, that circle round

　　   The joy sublime which breathes from out the womb

　　   That was the hostelry of our Desire;

　　And I shall circle, Lady of Heaven, while

　　   Thou followest thy Son, and mak'st diviner

　　   The sphere supreme, because thou enterest there."

　　Thus did the circulated melody

　　   Seal itself up; and all the other lights

　　   Were making to resound the name of Mary.

　　The regal mantle of the volumes all

　　   Of that world, which most fervid is and living

　　   With breath of God and with his works and ways,

　　Extended over us its inner border,

　　   So very distant, that the semblance of it

　　   There where I was not yet appeared to me.

　　Therefore mine eyes did not possess the power

　　   Of following the incoronated flame,

　　   Which mounted upward near to its own seed.

　　And as a little child, that towards its mother

　　   Stretches its arms, when it the milk has taken,

　　   Through impulse kindled into outward flame,

　　Each of those gleams of whiteness upward reached

　　   So with its summit, that the deep affection

　　   They had for Mary was revealed to me.

　　Thereafter they remained there in my sight,

　　   'Regina coeli' singing with such sweetness,

　　   That ne'er from me has the delight departed.

　　O, what exuberance is garnered up

　　   Within those richest coffers, which had been

　　   Good husbandmen for sowing here below!

　　There they enjoy and live upon the treasure

　　   Which was acquired while weeping in the exile

　　   Of Babylon, wherein the gold was left.

　　There triumpheth, beneath the exalted Son

　　   Of God and Mary, in his victory,

　　   Both with the ancient council and the new,

　　He who doth keep the keys of such a glory.