Tìm bài trả lời thơ

After this gallant and warm-hearted greeting
         Again had been given three or four times more,
         Sordello stepped back and asked, "Who are you?"
 
         "Before those souls worthy of climbing up
5         To God were turned toward this mountaintop,
         My bones were buried by Octavian:
 
         "I am Virgil, and for no other fault
         Have I lost heaven than for want of faith."
         This then was the answer my guide gave him.
 
10       As one who sees suddenly before him
         Something to make him wonder, in belief
         And disbelief he says, "It is ... It isn’t so!"
 
         So that shade seemed, and then he bowed his head
         And, humbly coming to my guide again,
15       Embraced him as a minion clasps his lord.
 
         "O glory of the Latin race," he cried,
         "Who proved the power of our native tongue,
         O everlasting honor of my birthplace,
 
         "What merit or what grace brings you to me?
20       Should I be worthy to hear your words, tell me
         If you come here from hell, and from which cell?"
 
         "Through all the circles of that realm of pain,"
         He answered him, "have I come to this place.
         Heaven’s might moved me: by its help I came.
 
25       "Not what I did but what I did not do
         Lost me the sight of that high sun you crave
         And which I came to recognize too late.
 
         "There is a place down there not cursed by tortures
         But only by the darkness, and distress
30       Has not the sound of cries but of deep sighs.
 
         "There I stay with the infant innocents
         Bit off by the strong teeth of death before
         They were delivered from our human guilt.
 
         "There I stay with those souls who did not don
35       Three holy virtues, but who, free from vice,
         Knew all the other virtues and followed them.
 
         "But if you know and are allowed to tell,
         Teach us how we may reach most quickly
         Where purgatory properly begins."
 
40       He answered, "No particular place is set us:
         I am permitted to amble up and around:
         As far as I may travel I shall guide you.
 
         "But look! already daylight is declining,
         And it is not possible to climb at night:
45       It’s best to think then of a resting-place.
 
         "Some souls are off here to the right, apart:
         By your leave I will take you both to them,
         And you will find delight in their acquaintance."
 
         "How do you mean?" my guide asked. "Would someone
50       Wishing to mount by night be stopped by others,
         Or would he not go on because he cannot?"
 
         Good Sordello drew his finger on the ground
         And answered, "Look! even beyond this line
         You could not dare cross once the sun has set.
 
55       "Nor is there anything else that blocks the path
         For going up except the dark of night:
         That blinds the will with inability.
 
         "One might, indeed, at nightfall turn back down
         And go wandering around the mountainside
60       While the horizon seals the daylight shut."
 
         At that my master, seemingly amazed,
         Said, "Lead us then to the place that you mention,
         Where we may find delight in our delay."
 
         We had gone on just a short way from there
65       When I observed that the hill was hollowed out,
         As valleys carve out mountains here on earth.
 
         "Out there," the shade now told us, "we shall walk
         To where the slope shapes out a lap of stone,
         And we shall all wait there for the new day."
 
70       Half steep, half level was a rambling path
         Which led us to the border of that hollow
         Whose edge fades to the middle of the slope.
 
         Gold, fine silver, white lead, cochineal,
         Indigo, self-glowing polished wood,
75       Fresh emerald at the instant it is split,
 
         The grass and flowers blooming in that valley
         Outshine them all in color — were they there —
         As finer works surpass inferior.
 
         But nature had not only painted that place:
80       Out of the sweetness of a thousand scents
         She made there one unknown and secret perfume.
 
         "Salve Regina" — I saw the souls who sang
         This hymn seated on the flowering green:
         They had been hidden till then in the valley.
 
85       "Do not wish me to guide you there among them,"
         The Mantuan conducting us began,
         "Before the setting sun drops to its nest.
 
         "From this knoll you will discover better
         The movements and the faces of them all
90       Than if you were down with them in their glen.
 
         "The one who sits highest and wears the look
         Of having failed to do what he should have done
         And neglects to move his lips with others singing
 
         "Was Rudolph the Emperor, who could have cured
95       The wounds that meant the death of Italy:
         Though someone else should help, it is too late.
 
         "The other shade who seems to comfort him
         Once ruled the land where spring up those waters
         Which the Moldau drifts to the Elbe and the sea:
 
100      "Ottokar was his name, and in babyhood
         He was braver than his grown son Wenceslaus
         In his beard, fed on idleness and lust.
 
         "That snub-nosed one who seems so thick in talk
         With the kind-looking soul next to him
105      Died fleeing and dishonoring the lily:
 
         "Watch him there — look how he beats his breast!
         See too that other one who cradles his cheek
         In the palm of his hand, the while he sighs:
 
         "They’re father and father-in-law of the Plague
110      Of France — they know his vile and vicious life,
         And that is why grief stabs them to the heart.
 
         "That one who seems so strong in build and who
         Chimes his singing with the big-nosed shade
         Was cinctured with the cord of worthiness,
 
115      "And if the young man seated at his rear
         Had succeeded him to his throne, then
         His worth would have passed on from urn to urn,
 
         "A thing that never happened to his heirs.
         James and Frederick now hold the kingdoms,
120      But neither gained the better heritage.
 
         "The sap of human goodness rarely rises
         Through its branches, and this He wills who gives
         The gift that we may call on Him for it.
 
         "My words apply to him with the big nose
125     And to the one who sings with him, Peter,
         Who caused Apulia and Provence distress.
 
         "So stunted has the family tree become
         That Constance can still boast about her husband
         More than Beatrice and Margaret could of theirs.
 
130      "See there the king who led a simple life,
         Sitting all alone, Henry of England:
         He in his branches has a sturdier stock.
 
         "The one who sits with them on lower ground,
         Gazing upward, is William the Marquis,
135      Through whom Alessandria and its war
 
         "Make Montferrat and Canavese weep."

When a game of dice breaks up, the loser
         Loiters behind in a downhearted mood,
         Casting his throws again and sadly wiser,
 
         While all the bystanders leave with the winner:
5         One strolls ahead, one tugs him from the rear,
         And one begs for his attention at his side.
 
         He does not stop, but hears this one and that;
         When he gives one a handout, one more leaves,
         And in that way he wards off the whole crowd.
 
10       I was the same within that pressing throng,
         Turning my face this side and that to all,
         Until by promises I slipped scot-free.
 
         The Aretine was there who met his death
         At the cruel hands of Ghino di Tacco,
15       And the other one who drowned in hot pursuit.
 
         Federigo Novello was there begging
         With arms outstretched to me, and there the Pisan
         Whose death made good Marzucco show his valor.
 
         I saw Count Orso, and the soul cut off
20       From its body by spitefulness and hate,
         They say, and not for any crime committed:
 
         Pierre de la Brosse, I mean; and while she lives,
         Let the Lady of Brabant look out lest she
         May end up with the sadder flock for this.
 
25       As soon as I came free of all those shades
         Whose only prayer was that some others pray
         So that the way to their bliss would be hastened,
 
         I then began, "You seem to me expressly
         To deny, O my light, in one written passage
30       That prayer can bend the ordinance of heaven,
 
         "And yet these people pray for this alone:
         Shall then this hope of theirs be empty-handed
         Or is what you said not quite clear to me?"
 
         And he told me, "What I wrote down is plain —
35       The hope of all these souls is not mistaken,
         If you would ponder with an open mind:
 
         "The heights of justice are not brought down low
         Because the fire of love may in one instant
         Fulfill the debt for sin of those lodged here;
 
40       "And there where I asserted this clear point,
         The fault could not be straightened out by prayer
         Because the prayer had been divorced from God.
 
         "But surely you need not remain in so
         Deep a doubt when she who shall be the light
45       Between your mind and truth explains it to you.
 
         "I don’t know if you grasp — I speak of Beatrice.
         You shall see her above, blissful and smiling,
         Upon the summit of this very mountain."
 
         And I: "My lord, let’s walk on with more haste,
50       For now I do not tire as I did then,
         And look! by now the hillside casts a shadow."
 
         "We will walk on as long as daylight lasts,"
         He answered me, "as far as we still can,
         But the reality is not what you suppose.
 
55       "Before you reach that top, you’ll see the sun,
         Now screened behind the hillside so that you
         Do not obstruct its beams, come out again.
 
         "But see, right over there sits one spirit
         All alone, who looks in our direction:
60       He will mark out for us the quickest way."
 
         We came up to him then. O Lombard soul,
         How aloof and disdainful was your manner!
         How solemnly and slowly your eyes moved!
 
         He said not a thing to us, but let us
65       Keep climbing upward, only looking on
         In the same way a lion rests and watches.
 
         Yet Virgil drew up close to him, asking
         That he point out to us the best ascent,
         But he made no reply to his request;
 
70       Instead he questioned us about our country
         And way of life; and the kind guide began,
         "Mantua ... " but the shade, shut in himself,
 
         Now rose toward him from the place he had kept
         And cried, "O Mantuan, I am Sordello
75       From your own city!" And they embraced each other.
 
         Ah, slavish Italy, hostelry for griefs,
         Ship without a captain in huge storms,
         No madam of the provinces but of brothels!
 
         That noble spirit was so eager-hearted,
80       Just at the sweet sound of his city’s name,
         To welcome there his fellow-citizen —
 
         And now all those who dwell within you live
         In war; enclosed by one same wall and moat,
         One person gnaws away at another!
 
85       Search out, you wretched place, around the shores
         Of your own seas, and then look in your heart
         For any part of you that enjoys peace!
 
         What good that Justinian with his code
         Repair the bridle if the saddle’s empty?
90       Without that bit the shame would be less biting!
 
         Ah, people that ought to show reverence
         And allow Caesar to sit in the saddle,
         If you knew well what God prescribes for you!
 
         Look how this beast has become barbarous
95       By its not being checked by any spurs
         Since you have put your hands to the bridle!
 
         O German Albert, you abandon her
         And she has grown uncurbable and wild,
         You who should ride high astride her saddle!
 
100      May the just judgment from the stars fall down
         Upon your bloodline, with so strange and plain
         A sign that may make your heir shake with fear!
 
         Because you and your father, long diverted
         By your greediness back home, have permitted
105     The garden of the empire to waste away.
 
         Come see the Montagues and Capulets,
         The Monaldi and Filippeschi, you reckless man:
         The first two live in grief, the second dread it!
 
         Come, cruel ruler, come see the distress
110      Of your noblemen, come cure their diseases,
         And you shall see how bleak is Santafiora!
 
         Come see your Rome, weeping in widowhood
         All by herself, wailing day and night:
         "My Caesar, why have you abandoned me?"
 
115      Come see how all your people love each other,
         And if no pity moves your heart for us,
         Come feel the shame your fame has won for you!
 
         And if it be allowed me, O highest Jove
         Who on the earth was crucified for us:
120     Are your eyes turned away to somewhere else?
 
         Or is it preparation you provide
         In the depths of your counsel for some good
         Wholly cut off from our discovery?
 
         For all the cities of Italy are filled
125     With tyrants, and any bumpkin who learns how
         To play politics becomes a Marcellus.
 
         My Florence, clearly you can be content
         At this digression which does not touch you,
         Thanks to the earnest efforts of your people!
 
130      Many men have justice in their hearts,
         But thinking makes them slow to let shafts fly:
         Yet your people shoot off with their mouths!
 
         Many men refuse a public office,
         But your people answer with eagerness
135      No call at all, and cry, "I will! I’ll serve!"
 
         Now be glad, since

I had by now parted from these shadows
         And was following in the footsteps of my guide
         When one behind me pointing his finger
 
         Cried, "See, the light does not appear to shine
5         Upon the left side of the lower climber,
         And he seems to act as if he were alive!"
 
         At the sound of these words I turned my eyes,
         And I saw those shades stare at me in wonder,
         Only at me and at the broken light.
 
10       "Why is your mind in such entanglement
         You slacken off your walk?" my master asked,
         "Why do you care what they may whisper here?
 
         "Come after me and let the people chatter.
         Stand steadfast as a tower whose great height
15       Never shakes when struck by gusts of wind:
 
         "For people always who let thought spring up
         On thought fall ever farther from their goal,
         Since one thought saps the strength out of another."
 
         What else could I respond except "I come"?
20       I said it, my face coloring a little,
         As sometimes makes a man deserve forgiveness.
 
         And meantime all across the mountainside
         Came people slightly ahead of us, singing
         The Miserere, verse answering to verse.
 
25       When they had noticed that the rays of light
         Did not pass through my body, they soon changed
         Their chant into a hoarse and drawn-out "Oh!"
 
         And two of them, in roles of messengers,
         Raced up toward us to tender this request:
30       "We’d like to know about your present state."
 
         And my master replied, "You can return
         And report back to those who sent you here
         That this man’s body is in fact his flesh.
 
         "If they halted at the sight of his shadow,
35       As I suppose, that answer is enough:
         Let them honor him that they may benefit."
 
         I never saw meteors cut so swiftly
         Through the limpid sky at early nighttime
         Or lightning flash through August clouds at sunset
 
40       As swiftly as these shades turned back uphill
         And once there with the others veered around
         Toward us like cavalry charging with free rein.
 
         "These people pressing on us now are numerous,
         And they approach with prayer," the poet said,
45       "Be on your way, and listen as you walk!"
 
         "O soul, who move ahead to be made blessed
         In the same limbs you had when you were born,"
         They came crying, "a short while stay your steps!
 
         "Look if you ever have seen one of us
50       That you may carry news of him back there.
         Ah, why press on? Ah, why not stop right here?
 
         "All of us shades met with a violent death
         And remained sinners up to our last hour.
         The light of heaven then had so forewarned us
 
55       "That we, by true repenting and forgiving,
         Came out of our life, our peace made with the God
         Who fills our hearts with longing to see him."
 
         And I said, "Even though I search your faces,
         I recognize none of you, but if I now
60       In any way can please you, bliss-born souls,
 
         "Tell me and I will do it, by that peace
         Which I, in the steps of so good a guide,
         Am here made to pursue from world to world."
 
         And one began, "Each one of us has trust
65       In your benefices without your oaths,
         As long as no self-weakness thwarts your will.
 
         "So I, who speak alone before the rest,
         Pray you, if ever you look on that country
         Which lies between Romagna and Charles’ land,
 
70       "That you be gracious to me with your prayers
         In Fano, where devotions be made for me
         So that I here can purge my serious sins.
 
         "I came from there, but then the deep-gashed wounds
         From which flowed out the blood that gave me life
75       Were dealt me at the lap of the Antenors,
 
         "In the place where I thought I was most safe:
         Azzo of Este had it done, in anger
         Against me far beyond what justice called for.
 
         "If I had fled instead toward La Mira
80       When I was ambushed at Oriaco,
         I should still be there where men breathe the air.
 
         "I ran into the marsh, and reeds and mud
         So tangled me up I fell, and there I watched
         A pool from my veins spill into the soil."
 
85       Then said another, "Ah, so may that longing
         That draws you up the mountain be fulfilled,
         From kind compassion lend aid to my longing.
 
         "I am Buonconte once of Montefeltro.
         Giovanna and the others care not for me,
90       So I trudge with these souls, my brow bowed low."
 
         And I then asked him, "What force or what chance
         Led you so far astray from Campaldino
         That your gravesite, till now, remains unknown?"
 
         "Oh!" he replied, "below the Casentino,
95       A stream, called the Archiano, crosses
         From above the hermitage in the Apennines.
 
         "There, where its name then changes to the Arno,
         I came with my throat cut wide open, fleeing
         On foot and dripping blood upon the valley.
 
100      "There I lost my sight and then my speech:
         I ended with the name of Mary, and there
         I fell, and my flesh lay there all alone.
 
         "I’ll tell the truth — retell it to the living.
         God’s angel took me up and hell’s cried out,
105     ‘O you from heaven, why must you steal from me?
 
         " ‘His immortal part you haul off with you
         For one tiny tear which tears him from me,
         But I’ve made other plans for what remains!’
 
        "You know how in the atmosphere damp vapor
110      Condenses and turns once more into water
         As soon as it floats up to where cold strikes it:
 
         "Bad will that only plots bad deeds he added
         To intellect, and stirred the mist and wind
         By the power which his fiendish nature gave him.
 
115      "Then, when day was spent, he filled the valley
         From Pratomagno to the mountain range
         With clouds, and he so charged the sky aloft
 
         "That the overburdened air changed into water:
         The rains fell, and into the gullies flushed
120      Whatever the ground refused to sop back up,
 
         "And gathering together in huge torrents,
         They rushed head-onward toward the royal river
         So rapidly that nothing blocked their course.
 
         "The raging Archiano found my body
125      Frozen near its mouth and swept it on
         Into the Arno and unclenched the cross
 
         "Which on my breast I’d formed when pain felled me.
         Along its bed and on its bank it rolled me
         And then swaddled and wound me in its spoils."
 
130      "Pray, when you are come back into the world
         And are well rested from your lengthy journey,"
         A third spirit followed up the second,
 
         "Remember me, I who am La Pia.
         Siena made — Maremma unmade me —
135      As he knows well who plighted me his troth
 
         "And sealed the contract with his jeweled ring."

When the stress of pleasure or of pain,
         Which any of our senses apprehends,
         So concentrates the soul on that one sense
 
         That it is heedless of its other powers —
5         And this refutes the error which asserts
         One soul above another kindles in us —
 
         Then, when anything is heard or seen
         Which keeps the soul steadily drawn to it,
         Time passes on and we are unaware,
 
10       Because the sense perceiving time is other
         Than the one controlling the whole soul:
         The second is bound while the first is free.
 
         I had a real experience of this truth,
         Listening to that spirit and marveling,
15       For the sun had climbed fifty full degrees
 
         Without my noticing it, when we arrived
         There at a place where those souls called to us
         In unison, "Here, this is what you seek!"
 
         Often a peasant shuts a wider opening
20       In his hedges with a little forkful
         Of thorns, when his grapes grow dark and ripe,
 
         Than was the gap through which my leader climbed
         With me behind him, the two of us alone,
         While that flock was departing from us there.
 
25       Walk up San Leo or trek down to Noli,
         Mount to the summit of Bismantova,
         Still on two feet — but here a man must fly:
 
         I mean, fly with the rapid wings and feathers
         Of mighty longing, on behind that guide
30       Who brought me hope and who became my light.
 
         Upward we scaled inside the fissured rockface
         With walls on each side squeezed in close on us
         And hands and feet both needed for the stone.
 
         After we had reached the topmost rim
35       Of the high cliff, out on an open slope,
         "My master," I asked, "what way do we now take?"
 
         And he told me: "Make none of your steps downward,
         But up the mountain keep climbing after me
         Until some knowing guide appear to us."
 
40       The summit was so high I could not see it
         And the slope was much steeper than a line
         Drawn from mid-quadrant to a circle’s center.
 
         I was worn-out, when I began to moan,
         "O tender father, turn about and look:
45       I shall be left alone if you won’t pause!"
 
         "My son," he answered, "drag yourself up here,"
         And pointed to a ledge not much higher up
         Which circles the whole mountain on that side.
 
         His words so spurred me onwards that I forced
50       Myself to clamber up there after him
         Until the ledge was underneath my feet.
 
         We now sat down together on that spot,
         Facing the east from which we just had climbed,
         Since to gaze back that way often gives comfort.
 
55       I first turned my eyes to the shore below,
         Then raised them to the sun, and wondered
         How its rays shone on us from the left side.
 
         Sharply the poet noticed my amazement
         At seeing there the chariot of light
60       Begin its course between us and the north.
 
         So he said to me, "Were Castor and Pollux
         To keep close company with that bright mirror
         Which leads its light up and down the sky,
 
         "Then you would see the glowing Zodiac
65       Revolving even nearer to the Bears,
         Unless the sun should stray from its old path.
 
         "If you would understand how this can be,
         Then inwardly reflect: imagine Zion
         With this mountain so placed on the earth
 
70       "That they both share the same horizon but
         Two different hemispheres, so that the road
         Which Phaethon failed to drive on properly,
 
         "As you shall see, must pass around this mountain
         On one side and pass Zion on the other,
75       If your mind clearly comprehends this point."
 
         "Surely, my master," I said, "never before
         Have I seen so clearly as I now discern
         How defective was my understanding:
 
         "The middle circle of the heavenly motion,
80       Which in astronomy is called the Equator
         And which lies ever between summer and winter,
 
         "Is just as far away toward the north,
         For the reason that you give, as the Hebrews
         Used to see it toward the warmer climates.
 
85       "But if it please you, I should like to know
         How far we have to travel, for the hillside
         Leaps up higher than my eyes can reach."
 
         And he told me, "This mountain is such that
         Always at the start the climb is the hardest,
90       But the higher that one mounts the less one tires.
 
         "Therefore, when it seems to you so gentle
         That walking up is just as easy for you
         As riding down a river in a boat,
 
         "Then you will be at the end of this path:
95       There you can hope to rest from your fatigue.
         I say no more, but this I know is true."
 
         And after he had finished with these words,
         I heard a voice nearby cry out, "Perhaps
         Before then you will need to sit and rest!"
 
100      At that sound both of us then turned around,
         And we saw at our left a massive boulder
         Which neither of us had observed before.
 
         There we drew near, and up here there were people
         Tarrying in the shade behind the rock,
105      Like men spread out to loaf in idleness.
 
         And one of them, who looked to me all wayworn,
         Sat with his arms clasped fast around his knees,
         Bending his head down low between his legs.
 
         "O my sweet lord," I said, "fix your eyes sharply
110      On that one there who shows himself more lazy
         Than if slothfulness were his own sister!"
 
         Then he turned toward us to give us attention,
         Hardly raising his face above his legs,
         And said, "Then you go up if you’re so able!"
 
115      I knew then who he was, and that weariness
         Which still had left me short of breath did not
         Hinder me from walking to him, and when
 
         I came to him, he scarcely raised his head
         To say, "Have you really seen how the sun
120     Draws his chariot over your left shoulder?"
 
         His drowsy gestures and short-winded speech
         Moved my lips a little to a smile;
         Then I began, "Belacqua, I do not grieve
 
         "For you now; but tell me: what makes you sit
125      Here in this spot? Do you await an escort?
         Or have you simply slipped back to old ways?"
 
         And he: "O brother, why bother going up?
         God’s angel who is sitting at the gate
         Would not permit me to pass to the torments.
 
130      "First the heavens must revolve around me,
         With me outside them, as often as in life,
         Because I put off repenting to the end —
 
         "Unless there first comes to my aid a prayer
         Which rises from a heart that lives in grace:
135      What use are others if unheard in heaven?"
 
         By now the poet was bounding up before me,
         Calling back, "Come on now! See how the sun
         Touches the meridian, and on the shore
 
         "Night already sets foot on Morocco."

While sudden flight was scattering those shades
         Across the plain, twirling them toward the hilltop
         Where Justice and right reason probe the soul,
 
         I drew in closer to my true companion:
5         For how could I have run my course without him?
         Who would have led me up along the mountain?
 
         He looked as though heart-stricken with remorse.
         O pure and noble conscience! How sharp the sting
         A single trivial fault can give to you!
 
10       When he restrained his

The sun by now sank down to the horizon
         And the highest point of the meridian
         Circle arched above Jerusalem,
 
         And night, circling on the opposite side,
5         Rose out of the Ganges with the Scales
         Which topple from her hand when she grows longer,
 
         So, where I was, Aurora’s rose-white cheeks
         For all her beauty were turning golden-orange,
         As if they changed with ever increasing age.
 
10       We were there yet, alongside the sea’s margin,
         Like people who reflect about their route,
         Moving in mind and standing still in body.
 
         And look! just as Mars in the early dawn
         Burns with a deep red glow through heavy mists
15       Low in the west above the ocean’s surface,
 
         So appeared to me (may I see it again!)
         A light coming across the sea so fast
         Nothing in flight could match its rapid motion.
 
         When for a moment I’d withdrawn my eyes
20       From the light to ask my guide a question,
         Again I saw it grow in size and brightness.
 
         Then there appeared to me on each of its sides
         A whitish blur, and t

1         To race for safer waters, the small ship
         Of my poetic powers now hoists sail,
         Leaving in her wake that cruel sea.
 
         And I shall sing this second kingdom where
5         The human spirit purifies itself,
         Becoming fit to mount up into heaven.
 
         But let dead poetry here rise once more,
         O sacred Muses, since I am all your own,
         And let Calliope rise a step higher,
 
10       Accompanying my singing with that strain
         Which struck the wretched Magpies with such force
         That they despaired of ever finding pardon.
 
         Soft coloring of oriental sapphire,
         Collecting in the calm face of the sky,
15       Clear right up to the edge of the horizon,
 
         Brought back delight again into my eyes
         As soon as I stepped out from the dead air
         Which overburdened both my sight and breast.
 
        The beautiful, love-provoking planet
20       Was making the whole east break into smiles,
         Veiling the Fishes that follow in her train:
 
         I turned then to the right and fixed my mind
         On the other pole, and I saw there four stars
         Which, after the first people, none have seen.
 
25       The heavens seemed ecstatic in their flames.
         O widowed northern hemisphere, you are
         Deprived forever of wonder at their sight!
 
         When at last I left off gazing at them,
         Turning partially to the other pole
30       Where the Wain had already disappeared,
 
         I saw near me an aged man, alive,
         In bearing worthy of such reverence
         As no son ever would refuse his father.
 
         His beard was long and mixed with streaks of white,
35       Exactly like his hair which on both sides
         Fell in two tresses down upon his chest.
 
         Radiance from the four holy stars
         So suffused his countenance with light
         That I saw him as if he faced the sun.
 
40       "Who are you, running against the blind stream,
         Who have fled here from the eternal prison?"
         He asked, shaking his venerable locks.
 
         "Who guided you, or what was the lamp there
         That led you in escaping the deep night
45       Which keeps hell’s valley in unending blackness?
 
         "Are the laws of the abyss so shattered
         Or is some new design decreed in heaven
         That, although damned, you come here to my rocks?"
 
         At that my guide placed his hands upon me
50       And with words and gestures and other signs
         Made me bend my head and knees in reverence.
 
         Then he replied, "I come not on my own:
         A lady came from heaven — by her prayers
         I helped this man with my companionship.
 
55       "But since it is your wish that I unfold
         More about the truth of our condition,
         It is not my wish to deny your bidding.
 
         "This man has yet to see his final evening,
         But by his folly came so close to it
60       That not much time was left for him to turn.
 
         "As I just mentioned, I was sent to him
         For rescue, and there was no other way
         Than this on which I set myself to travel.
 
         "I have shown him all of the sinful people
65       And now I want to show him the spirits who
         Purge themselves beneath your supervision.
 
         "To tell you how I led him would take long:
         From up on high the power comes that helps me
         To guide him here to see and hear you now.
 
70       "Now be pleased to support his coming here.
         He goes in search of freedom, which is so dear,
         As he who gives his life for it would know.
 
         "You know, since death for its sake was not bitter
         To you in Utica, where you have doffed
75       The garment which on doomsday shall be bright.
 
         "We have not broken an eternal edict,
         Since he’s alive and Minos does not bind me:
         But I am of the ring where the chaste eyes
 
         "Of your Marcia gleam; her looks still pray you,
80       Oh holy breast, to hold her for your own.
         For love of her, then, bend to our request:
 
         "Permit us to pass through your seven realms.
         I will report your kindness back to her —
         If you allow such talk of you below."
 
85       "Marcia was so pleasing to my eyes
         While I lived there beyond," he then replied,
         "That every favor she wished of me, I did.
 
         "Now that she dwells across that stream of evil,
         She can no longer move me, by that law
90       Which was imposed when I emerged from there.
 
         "But if, as you say, a lady from heaven
         Moves and commands you, you need not flatter:
         It is enough you ask me for her sake.
 
         "Go then, and make sure that you cincture him
95       With a smooth reed and that you cleanse his face
         Until you have removed all trace of filth.
 
         "For it would not be fitting to go before
         The first angel there on guard from paradise
         With eyes still dulled by the thick murky mists.
 
100      "Around about the base of this small island,
         Below the place where waves beat on the shore,
         Rushes flourish in the soft wet mud.
 
         "No other plant that sprouts its leaves, or stalk
         That hardens, ever could thrive in such a spot
105      Because it would not bend to buffeting waves.
 
         "Then afterwards, do not come back this way.
         The sun, now rising, will point out to you
         An easier route for climbing up the mountain."
 
         With this he vanished. I lifted myself up
110     Without a word, drawing myself closer
         To my guide, and turned my eyes toward him,
 
         And he began, "Son, follow in my footsteps!
         Let us turn back, for the plain slopes downward
         In that direction to its lowest point."
 
115      The dawn was winning over the morning hour
         Which fled before it, so that, still far off,
         I recognized the trembling of the sea.
 
         We traveled along the solitary plain,
         Like a man turning to the road he’s lost
120     And, till he finds it, feels the walking useless.
 
         When we arrived at a meadow where the dew
         Outlasts the sun, since in the cooling shade
         The dew scarcely evaporates in the breeze,
 
         My master gently spread out both his hands
125     And pressed them on the grass. And I, at that,
         Comprehending what he here intended,
 
         Presented to his touch my tear-stained cheeks:
         Completely he revealed their rightful color
          Which hell had hidden underneath the grime.

130      Then we came down to the deserted shore
         Which never saw one man sail on its waters
         Who afterward resolved how to return.

         There, as another willed, he cinctured me.
         O wonderful! when he had picked the humble
135      Plant, the same one instantly sprang up

         Exactly at the spot he plucked it out.

If I possessed the crude and caustic verses
         Suited to this desolate abyss
         Where all the other crushing rocks converge,
 
         I would squeeze out the juice of my conceit
5        More amply, but since I lack the words, it is
         With some timidity I’d start to speak.
 
         To describe the bottom of the whole universe
         Is not a pastime taken up in sport
         Nor baby-talk about Mamma and Daddy.
 
10       However, may those ladies aid my verse
         Who aided Amphion to build the wall of Thebes,
         So that the word not differ from the thing.
 
         O misbegotten mob beyond all others
         Trapped in this place so hard to describe,
15       Better had you been born as sheep or goats!
 
         When we were there below in the darkened hole,
         Far down the slope beneath the giant’s feet,
         And I still stared up at the steep-pitched wall,
 
         I heard someone tell me, "Watch out how you pass!
20       Be careful not to step upon the heads
         Of this weary, wretched brotherhood."
 
         At that I turned around and saw before me
         And underneath my feet a lake of ice
         So frozen that it looked like glass, not water.
 
25       Neither the Danube in Austria nor the Don,
         Far-off under the cold sky, ever fashioned
         So thick a veil in winter for its current
 
         As was here: for if the peaks of Tambernic
         Or Pietrapana had fallen down on it,
30       Not even at its edge would it have creaked.
 
         The way frogs sit to croak with muzzles out
         Of water, in the season when the peasant girl
         Often dreams about her harvesting,
 
         So these mournful shadows were sealed in ice,
35       Livid to where they blush their cheek with shame,
         Teeth chattering with the clatter of a stork.
 
         Each held his face bowed down before the ice,
         Witnessing to the cold by their mouths,
         Witnessing to the heartache with their eyes.
 
40       When I had gazed around me for a while,
         I looked down at my feet and saw two shades
         So clasped, the hair of their heads knit together.
 
         "Tell me, you who squash your chests together,"
         I said, "who are you?" They bent their necks back
45      And, when they had their faces lifted toward me,
 
         Their eyes, which had before wept inwardly,
         Wet drops down on their lips, and the frost froze
         The tears between the two and locked them tight.
 
         Never was board on board bolted more firmly
50       Than these two, so that they butted one another
         Like two he-goats, such anger drove them wild.
 
         And one shade who had lost both ears from cold,
         With his eyes still cast downward, spoke to me,
         "Why do you have to stare at us so hard?
 
55       "If you desire to know who this pair is,
         The valley from which the Bisenzio cascades
         Belonged to them and to their father Albert.
 
         "One womb bore them both, and you can search
         All Caina and you shall not find a shade
60       More worthy to be riveted in ice:
 
         "Not Modred who had breast and shadow pierced
         With but one blow dealt by the hand of Arthur,
         Not Focaccia, not this one here who blocks
 
         "My view with his head so I see no farther —
65       And his name was Sassol Mascheroni:
         Should you be Tuscan, you now know who he is.
 
         "And that you may not put me through more talk,
         Know this: I was Camiscion de’ Pazzi,
         And I wait for Carlino to absolve me."
 
70       After that I saw a thousand faces so
         Purpled by cold that a shivering still
         Grips me, and it always will, at frozen ponds.
 
         Now while we walked onward toward the center
         To which the whole weight of the world pulls down
75       And while I shuddered with the eternal chill,
 
         Whether it happened by will or fate or chance
         I don’t know, but, moving among the heads,
         I struck my foot hard on one of the faces.
 
         Through tears he screamed, "Why do you kick me?
80       If you haven’t come to take revenge on me
         For Montaperti, why should you pester me?"
 
         And I: "My master, please wait for me here:
         Permit me to clear up a doubt about him,
         Then I shall be as quick as you could wish."
 
85       My guide stood still, and I said to the shade
         Who swore and cursed with hardened bitterness,
         "Who are you, insulting other people?"
 
         "Who are you who stroll through Antenora
         Kicking the cheeks of others?" he responded,
90       "Were you alive, I wouldn’t take that from you!"
 
         "I am alive, and it may be worth your effort,
         Should you seek fame, that I would now note down
         Your name with the others." This was my reply.
 
         And he cried, "I want just the opposite!
95       You have a poor grasp of how to flatter us!
         Get out of here and give me no more trouble!"
 
         At that I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck
         And said, "Either you give me your name now
         Or you won’t have a hair left here on top!"
 
100     Then he cried at me, "Go right ahead and scalp me!
         I wouldn’t tell you who I am or show you
         Though you pummel my head a thousand times!"
 
         I had already twisted his hair in my hand
         And pulled out more than a full hank of it,
105     While he yelped on and kept his eyes down low,
 
         When someone else shouted, "What’s with you, Bocca?
         Don’t you sound off enough with your clattering jaws
         But now you have to bark? What evil’s got you?"
 
         "Now," I said, "I don't need you to blab more,
110     Evil-minded traitor, because to shame you
         I’ll carry back the real news here about you!"
 
         "Go away!" he answered, "Tell all you want!
         But if you do get out of here, do not
         Shut up about this one with the big mouth!
 
115      "He weeps here for the bribe of Frenchman’s silver.
         ‘I saw Buoso da Duera,’ you can report,
         ‘There where all the sinners cool their heels!’
 
         "Should you be questioned, ‘And who else was there?’
         Right at your side you have Beccheria
120     Whose head was cut off by the Florentines.
 
         "Gianni de’ Soldanier I think is farther
         On with Ganelon and Tebaldello
         Who opened Faenza’s gates while it slept fast."
 
         We left them, and soon afterward I saw
125      Two souls frozen in one hole so close
         That one’s head served as the other’s hood.
 
         Just as a hungry man chews on bread crusts,
         So did the one on top sink his teeth into
         The other’s nape at the base of the brain.
 
130      Tydeus gnawed the head of Menalippus
         With no more fury than this sinner showed
         In gnawing on the skull of skin and bone.
 
         "O you who by this sign of bestiality
         Show hatred for the one whom you devour,
135      Tell me why," I said; "and for the favor,
 
         "If you have any reason for your grievance,
         When I know who you are and what his sin,
         I will pay you back in the world above
 
         "Unless my tongue should dry up in my throat."

Tầng Địa ngục thứ IX. Vùng thứ nhất ( Caina): Những bá tước ở Mangogna. Vùng thứ hai ( Atenora): Bocca Abbatti, Galenone.

Nếu tôi có những vần thơ khô khốc và dữ dội,
Phù hợp với hố sâu sầu thảm này,
Mà trên đó chồng chất bao địa ngục khác.

Thì tôi sẽ trình bày cốt lõi tư tưởng tôi,
Đầy đủ hơn, nhưng tôi lại không có,
Mặc dầu vậy, tôi vẫn không ngần ngại mà sẵn sàng bày tỏ.

Đây không phải là một việc làm thiếu suy nghĩ,
Đi miêu tả cái đáy này của thế giới,
Cũng không phải là việc của loại ngôn ngữ chỉ biết gọi “bố mẹ”.

Hỡi những Nàng Thơ đã từng giúp Alfione xây thành Tebe,
Hãy đến đây hỗ trợ thơ tôi,
Để ngôn ngữ, không quá xa sự thực.

Hỡi lũ xấu xa tồi tệ nhất,
Đang ở nơi, thật khó khăn khi phải mô tả,
Đến kiếp dê, cừu vẫn còn hơn!

Chúng tôi đang ở dưới thấp, trong hố tối,
Thấp hơn nhiều so với chân khổng lồ,
Mắt vẫn nhìn về vách đá dựng đứng.

Bỗng có tiếng nói: - “Xin chú ý khi đi qua,
Nếu có thể, xin chớ giẫm lên đầu,
Những anh em đau khổ nơi đây”.

Tôi quay lại và thấy ở phía trước,
Ngay dưới chân tôi một cái hồ đóng băng,
Trông giống thủy tinh hơn là nước.

Chưa bao giờ, về mùa đông, sông Danoia ở Ottelicchi,
Hay sông Tanai dưới bầu trời băng giá,
Lại phủ một lớp băng dày đến thế.

Cho dù núi Tambernichi hay núi Pietrapana,
Có đổ sụp xuống đây,
Thì mặt hồ cũng không bị rạn nứt!

Như con ếch đang kêu ì oạp,
Mũi thò lên mặt nước,
Người nông dân nghèo mơ đang mót lúa ngoài đồng.

Những âm hồn đau khổ sống trong băng giá,
Tái xanh tận nơi vẫn biểu hiện niềm xấu hổ,
Răng đập lập cập như cò gặp lạnh.

Mỗi người cúi gằm mặt xuống,
Từ cái miệng rét cóng, từ cặp mắt u buồn,
Mọi bằng chứng đều phơi bày…

Khi tôi đưa mắt nhìn quanh,
Tôi thấy dưới chân tôi hai âm hồn ôm ghì lấy nhau,
Đến nỗi tóc trên đầu hòa lẫn.

Tôi hỏi: - “Các anh là ai, sao ghì nhau chặt vậy?”
Họ liền quay đầu lại,
Và ngẩng mặt nhìn lên.

Hai mắt đã đầm đìa nước mắt,
Chảy dòng dòng xuống môi và đông lại,
Lại gào khóc và ôm ghì nhau mãi.

Chưa bao giờ hai tấm gỗ ghép vào nhau,
Chặt được như vậy; còn họ, như hai con dê đực,
Trong cơn điên giận, húc vào nhau.

Có một âm hồn khác rụng cả hai tai,
Vì lạnh giá, mặt cúi gằm, hỏi tôi:
“Sao nhìn chúng tôi chằm chằm như soi gương vậy?”

Nếu ngươi muốn biết hai hồn này là ai,
Hãy nhớ lại: Thung lũng sông Bisendo,
Xưa là của cha họ, ông Alberto, nay là của họ,

Chúng sinh ra từ một lòng mẹ,
Nhưng nếu ngươi có thể lục tìm khắp ngục Caina,
Thì không ai đáng làm đông thành keo hơn chúng nó.

Cũng không phải tên kia, ngực bị đâm thủng,
Vì một nhát kiếm của Artu;
Cũng không phải tên này, Focarsia hay tên nọ.

Đầu bị che khuất, khiến ta không thấy rõ,
Hắn tên là Sarson Macheroni,
Nếu ngươi là dân Toscana hẳn biết nó là ai.

Bây giờ, để ngươi khỏi bắt ta dông dài hơn nữa,
Ngươi nên biết ta là Canision de Passi
Đang chờ Carlin đến, để được nhẹ bớt tội trạng.”

Tôi còn thấy hàng nghìn gương mặt khác,
Tím bầm vì lạnh, và từ lúc đó tôi cũng run lên,
Và vẫn như thế hễ thấy nước đóng băng.

Trong lúc đó, chúng tôi đi gần vào trung tâm,
Về phía ấy, bồn nén mọi trọng lực,
Và tôi run rẩy trong giá lạnh vĩnh cửu.

Đây là ý muốn, là định mệnh hay ngẫu nhiên,
Tôi không biết, nhưng đang đi qua giữa các cái đầu,
Chân tôi bỗng vấp mạnh vào một khuôn mặt.

Âm hồn đó vừa kêu vừa khóc:
“Sao ngươi lại dẫm lên tôi,
Hay ngươi đến, hành tôi, để trả thù thêm trận Montaberti?”

Tôi nói: “Xin thầy nán lại và đợi con ở đây,
Con muốn thanh toán một nghi vấn với hồn ma này,
Rồi sẽ rảo bước theo mức thầy muốn.”

Thầy tôi dừng lại và tôi nói,
Với kẻ đang lăng nhục tôi dữ dội:
“Ngươi là ai mà quát mắng người khác như thế?”

Hồn nói: “Thế ngươi là ai mà qua miền Antenora,
Và đá mạnh vào má kẻ khác,
Đá mạnh như thể ngươi còn sống?”

Tôi trả lời: - “Ta còn sống,
Chắc việc nổi danh là điều ngươi khao khát
Và muốn ta viết tên ngươi vào thơ của ta?”

Hắn đáp: “Ta mong điều trái lại,
Ngươi đi khỏi đây và chớ làm phiền ta,
Ngươi biết đấy, mua chuộc có nghĩa gì nơi vực thẳm này!”

Nó lại nói: - “Sao lại làm ta trụi tóc,
Ta sẽ chẳng nói họ tên, cũng không cho ngươi biết ta là ai
Cả khi ngươi, một ngàn lần nện xuống đầu ta!”

Tôi đã có trong bàn tay một ít tóc của nó,
Vì tôi nhổ đi nhiều mớ tóc,
Còn nó, mặt vúi gằm xuống đất, miệng sủa lên như chó.

Một tên khác kêu lên: “Bocca, mày sao thế?
Nghiến răng chưa đủ sao,
Lại còn sủa lên, con quỷ nào chọc mày thế?”

Tôi nói với nó: “Giờ ta không cần ngươi nói nữa,
Tên phản bội đê hèn; còn nỗi nhục của ngươi,
Ta sẽ mang lên trên kia với những tin xác thực.”

Hắn trả lời: “Đi đi, cứ kể lại những điều ngươi thích,
Nhưng nếu ngươi ra khỏi chỗ này,
Thì đừng giữ im lặng về cái thằng mỏng môi đó.

Ở đây nó khóc trên bạc vàng của quân Pháp,
Ngươi sẽ có thể nói: Tôi đã thấy Ngài lãnh chúa,
Nơi những tội phạm được giam nơi mát mẻ!

Nếu người ta gặng hỏi ngươi: - Còn những ai nữa,
Thì bên cạnh ngươi là Đức ông Berkeria,
Đã bị dân Firenze cắt cổ.

Xa hơn là Gianni De Soldanieri,
Cùng với Ganelone và Tebaldenalo
Đã mở cửa thành Faensa khi mọi người đang ngủ.”

Chúng tôi rời xa âm hồn này,
Khi đã thấy hai đứa đông lại trong cùng một hố,
Đầu người này đội đầu người kia như đội mũ.

Và giống như người ta ăn bánh khi đói,
Người ở trên cắm răng vào người ở dưới,
Ở nơi bộ óc nối liền với gáy.

Không khác gì Tiedo trong cơn giận dữ,
Gặm thái dương Menalippo,
Chén xong hộp sọ rồi các bộ phận khác.

“Hỡi ngươi – tôi nói – ngươi biểu lộ lòng căm giận
Đối với kẻ mà ngươi ăn, theo cách quá thú vật,
Hãy nói với ta lý do tại sao?

Nếu ngươi có lý để oán hận nó,
Xin cho biết ngươi là ai và tội trạng của nó,
Ta sẽ minh oan cho ngươi trên trần thế,
Nếu ngôn từ ta nói không thành khô cạn”

The same tongue which had first so stung me
         That it made the blood rush to both my cheeks
         Then delivered the antidote to me.
 
         So I have heard the lance that Achilles
5        Had from his father used to be the cause
         First of a hurtful, then of a healing, stroke.
 
         We turned our backs upon the woeful pit,
         Climbing up the bank that rings it round
         And crossing it without a word between us.
 
10       Here it was less than night and less than day,
         So that my sight could scarcely press ahead —
         But then I heard so loud a bugle blast
 
         It would have made a thunderclap sound faint.
         At this, my eyes, following their way backward,
15       Drew their full focus straight to a single spot.
 
         After the heartbreaking debacle, when
         Charlemagne had lost his sacred rearguard,
         The horn of Roland sounded less foreboding.
 
         To that spot I had briefly turned my head
20       When I seemed to see high serried towers.
         "Tell me, master," I asked, "what city is this?"
 
         And he replied, "Because you penetrate
         Into the darkness from too far away,
         Your imagination strays into confusion.
 
25       "When you reach there, then you shall clearly see
         How much the distance has deceived your senses:
         For that reason, spur yourself on faster,"
 
         Then lovingly he took me by the hand
        And said, "Before we move any farther forward,
30      That the reality may seem less strange,
 
         "Know this: they are not towers, they are giants!
         And all of them around the steep embankment
         Are plunged up to their navels in the well."
 
         Just as, when foggy mist is blowing off,
35       The staring eyes bit by bit figure out
         What it is the airy vapors hide,
 
         So, while I pierced the thick dark atmosphere
         And came up closer and closer to the brink,
         Error fled from me and fear grew stronger.
 
40       For, as upon its rounded rampart wall
         Montereggion is crowned with towers,
         So here these huge horrendous giants, whom Jove
 
         Still threatens from heaven when he thunders,
         With half their bodies towered high above
45       The bank that winds around the sunken hole.
 
         And by now I’d made out the face of one,
         His shoulders and chest, much of his stomach,
         And, down along his sides, both of his arms.
 
         Nature surely, when she quit the art
50       Of shaping brutes like these, did the right thing
         To rob Mars of such executioners.
 
         And even though she has not yet repented
         Of elephants and whales, he who looks wisely
         Will hold that here she is more just and prudent,
 
55       Since where the reasoning faculty of the mind
         Is joined to evil will and naked power,
         Then people can find no defense against it.
 
         His face appeared to me as long and broad
         As is the pine cone at Saint Peter’s in Rome,
60       And all his other bones were in proportion,
 
         So that the bank, which acted as an apron
         From the middle downward, revealed in full
         So much of him above that three Frieslanders
 
         Would boast in vain of reaching to his hair,
65       For I viewed thirty spans of him down from
         The place a person buckles up his cloak.
 
         "Raphel mai amecche zabi almi!"
         He began babbling with his beastly mouth
         For which no sweeter psalm was better suited.
 
70       And my guide turned toward him, "You stupid soul,
         Stick to your horn and vent yourself with that
         Whenever rage or other passions grip you!
 
         "Grope at your neck and you will find the strap
         That holds your horn on tight, you scatterbrain,
75       And look at where it rests on your large chest!"
 
         Then he told me, "He stands there self-accused:
         This is Nimrod, by whose bad idea
         The world no longer uses just one language.
 
         "Leave him there and we won’t lose time in talk,
80       For every language is the same to him
         As is his to others: all are unknown tongues."
 
         After that we took up our long journey,
         Turning leftward, and at a bowshot’s distance,
         We found one more far fiercer, larger giant.
 
85       Who might the master be who tied him up
         I cannot say, but someone there had pinned
         His left arm to his back, his right in front,
 
         Both shackled by a chain which held him bound
         From the neck down, and on the part exposed
90       It looped five times down around his torso.
 
         "This proud giant wished to test his prowess
         Against the power of the most high Jove,"
         My guide told me; "this is the prize he won!
 
         "His name is Ephialtes. He proved his huge
95       Strength when the giants struck fear in the gods.
         The arms he used, he shall not move again."
 
         And I told him, "If possible, I’d like
         My own eyes to have the experience
         Of that prodigious hulk Briareus."
 
100     To this he answered, "Near here you shall see
         Antaeus, who can talk and goes unfettered:
         He’ll place us on the bottom pit of sin.
 
         "The one you want to see lies farther off,
         And he is chained and shaped like this one here
105      Except his looks are even more ferocious."
 
         No shock of earthquake ever shook a tower
         With greater violence than did Ephialtes
         All of a sudden shake himself with rage.
 
         Then more than ever did I fear to die,
110     And the fear might have been enough to do it
         If I had not already spied his shackles.
 
         We left him to continue on our way,
         And came to Antaeus, who rose five ells,
         Not reckoning his head, above the rockbed.
 
115     "O you — who, in that fortunate valley
         Where Scipio became the heir of glory
         When Hannibal withdrew with all his men,
 
         "Took once a thousand lions as your prey
         And, if you had been with your brothers there
120      In their high war, as seems some still believe,
 
         "The sons of earth would have won victory —
         Set us down below, where cold locks in
         Cocytus, and do not disdain to do it!
 
         "Force us not to go to Tityus or Typhon:
125     This man can grant you what they long for here;
         And so bend down and do not curl your lip.
 
         "He still can make you famous in the world,
         For he lives, and looks forward to long life,
         Unless grace calls him back before his time."
 
130      So spoke my master, and in haste the giant
         Stretched out his hands, whose tremendous grip
         Hercules once felt, and clasped my guide.
 
         Virgil, when he felt hands grasping him,
         Called to me, "Come here, so I can hold you!"
135     And then he made himself and me one bundle.
 
         As the Garisenda tower appears to look
         From under its leaning side when clouds pass over
         On the opposite direction it hangs in,
 
         So Antaeus looked to me while I watched
140     Him bending over, and at such a moment
         I wished that I had gone some other way.
 
         But gently at that bottom which swallows
         Lucifer with Judas, he put us down
         And did not stay bent over us for long,
 
145     But rose up like the mainmast of a ship.