Divine Comedy, Longfellow's Translation, Paradise — Key Ideas to Explore

And even as a second ray is wont To issue from the first and reascend, Like to a pilgrim who would fain return,

Thus of her action, through the eyes infused In my imagination, mine I made, And sunward fixed mine eyes beyond our wont.

There much is lawful which is here unlawful Unto our powers, by virtue of the place Made for the human species as its own.

Not long I bore it, nor so little while But I beheld it sparkle round about Like iron that comes molten from the fire;

And suddenly it seemed that day to day Was added, as if He who has the power Had with another sun the heaven adorned.

With eyes upon the everlasting wheels Stood Beatrice all intent, and I, on her Fixing my vision from above removed,

Such at her aspect inwardly became As Glaucus, tasting of the herb that made him Peer of the other gods beneath the sea.

To represent transhumanise in words Impossible were; the example, then, suffice Him for whom Grace the experience reserves.

If I was merely what of me thou newly Createdst, Love who governest the heaven, Thou knowest, who didst lift me with thy light!

When now the wheel, which thou dost make eternal Desiring thee, made me attentive to it By harmony thou dost modulate and measure,

Then seemed to me so much of heaven enkindled By the sun’s flame, that neither rain nor river E’er made a lake so widely spread abroad.

The newness of the sound and the great light Kindled in me a longing for their cause, Never before with such acuteness felt;

Whence she, who saw me as I saw myself, To quiet in me my perturbed mind, Opened her mouth, ere I did mine to ask,

And she began: “Thou makest thyself so dull With false imagining, that thou seest not What thou wouldst see if thou hadst shaken it off.

Thou art not upon earth, as thou believest; But lightning, fleeing its appropriate site, Ne’er ran as thou, who thitherward returnest.”

If of my former doubt I was divested By these brief little words more smiled than spoken, I in a new one was the more ensnared;

And said: “Already did I rest content From great amazement; but am now amazed In what way I transcend these bodies light.”

Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh, Her eyes directed tow’rds me with that look A mother casts on a delirious child;

And she began: “All things whate’er they be Have order among themselves, and this is form, That makes the universe resemble God.

Here do the higher creatures see the footprints Of the Eternal Power, which is the end Whereto is made the law already mentioned.

In the order that I speak of are inclined All natures, by their destinies diverse, More or less near unto their origin;

Hence they move onward unto ports diverse O’er the great sea of being; and each one With instinct given it which bears it on.

This bears away the fire towards the moon; This is in mortal hearts the motive power This binds together and unites the earth.

Nor only the created things that are Without intelligence this bow shoots forth, But those that have both intellect and love.

The Providence that regulates all this Makes with its light the heaven forever quiet, Wherein that turns which has the greatest haste.

And thither now, as to a site decreed, Bears us away the virtue of that cord Which aims its arrows at a joyous mark.

True is it, that as oftentimes the form Accords not with the intention of the art, Because in answering is matter deaf,

So likewise from this course doth deviate Sometimes the creature, who the power possesses, Though thus impelled, to swerve some other way,

(In the same wise as one may see the fire Fall from a cloud,) if the first impetus Earthward is wrested by some false delight.

Thou shouldst not wonder more, if well I judge, At thine ascent, than at a rivulet From some high mount descending to the lowland.

Marvel it would be in thee, if deprived Of hindrance, thou wert seated down below, As if on earth the living fire were quiet.”

Thereat she heavenward turned again her face.

O Ye, who in some pretty little boat, Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along,

Turn back to look again upon your shores; Do not put out to sea, lest peradventure, In losing me, you might yourselves be lost.

The sea I sail has never yet been passed; Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.