There it appeared to me that in a vision Ecstatic on a sudden I was rapt, And in a temple many persons saw;
And at the door a woman, with the sweet Behaviour of a mother, saying: “Son, Why in this manner hast thou dealt with us?
Lo, sorrowing, thy father and myself Were seeking for thee;”—and as here she ceased, That which appeared at first had disappeared.
Then I beheld another with those waters Adown her cheeks which grief distils whenever From great disdain of others it is born,
And saying: “If of that city thou art lord, For whose name was such strife among the gods, And whence doth every science scintillate,
Avenge thyself on those audacious arms That clasped our daughter, O Pisistratus;” And the lord seemed to me benign and mild
To answer her with aspect temperate: “What shall we do to those who wish us ill, If he who loves us be by us condemned?”
Then saw I people hot in fire of wrath, With stones a young man slaying, clamorously Still crying to each other, “Kill him! kill him!”
And him I saw bow down, because of death That weighed already on him, to the earth, But of his eyes made ever gates to heaven,
Imploring the high Lord, in so great strife, That he would pardon those his persecutors, With such an aspect as unlocks compassion.
Soon as my soul had outwardly returned To things external to it which are true, Did I my not false errors recognize.
My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: “What ails thee, that thou canst not stand?
But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?”
“O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I’ll tell thee,” said I, “what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta’en away.”
And he: “If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut Thy cogitations, howsoever small.
What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.
I did not ask, ‘What ails thee?’ as he does Who only looketh with the eyes that see not When of the soul bereft the body lies,
But asked it to give vigour to thy feet; Thus must we needs urge on the sluggards, slow To use their wakefulness when it returns.”
We passed along, athwart the twilight peering Forward as far as ever eye could stretch Against the sunbeams serotine and lucent;
And lo! by slow degrees a smoke approached In our direction, sombre as the night, Nor was there place to hide one’s self therefrom.
This of our eyes and the pure air bereft us.
Purgatorio: Canto XVI
Darkness of hell, and of a night deprived Of every planet under a poor sky, As much as may be tenebrous with cloud,
Ne’er made unto my sight so thick a veil, As did that smoke which there enveloped us, Nor to the feeling of so rough a texture;
For not an eye it suffered to stay open; Whereat mine escort, faithful and sagacious, Drew near to me and offered me his shoulder.
E’en as a blind man goes behind his guide, Lest he should wander, or should strike against Aught that may harm or peradventure kill him,
So went I through the bitter and foul air, Listening unto my Leader, who said only, “Look that from me thou be not separated.”
Voices I heard, and every one appeared To supplicate for peace and misericord The Lamb of God who takes away our sins.
Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Complete · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.