Canto 1

The glory of Him who moves everything penetrates through the universe, and shines in one part more and in another less. In the heaven that receives most of its light I have been, and have seen things which he who descends from thereabove neither knows how nor is able to recount; because, drawing near to its own desire,¹ our understanding enters so deep, that the memory cannot follow. Truly whatever of the Holy Realm I could treasure up in my mind shall now be the theme of my song.

The glory of him who moves everything fills the universe. It shines more brightly in some places than in others. I have been in the heaven that receives the most light. There I saw things that no one who comes down from there knows how or is able to describe. Because, as our understanding draws near to what it desires,¹ it enters so deeply that memory cannot follow. Now my song will tell of whatever I could remember of the Holy Realm.

O good Apollo, for this last labor make me such a vessel of thy power as thou demandest for the gift of the loved laurel.² Thus far one summit of Parnassus has been enough for me, but now with both³ I need to enter the remaining, arena. Enter into my breast, and breathe thou in such wise as when thou drewest Marsyas from out the sheath of his limbs. O divine Power, if thou lend thyself to me so that I may make manifest the image of the Blessed Realm imprinted within my head, thou shalt see me come to thy chosen tree, and crown myself then with those leaves of which the theme and thou will make me worthy. So rarely, Father, are they gathered for triumph or of Caesar or of poet (fault and shame of the human wills), that the Peneian leaf⁴ should bring forth joy unto the joyous Delphic deity, whenever it makes any one to long for it. Great flame follows a little spark: perhaps after me prayer shall be made with better voices, whereto Cyrrha⁵ may respond.

O good Apollo, for this last labor, make me a vessel of your power. Make me worthy of the gift of the beloved laurel.² Until now, one summit of Parnassus has been enough for me. But now I need both³ to enter the remaining arena. Enter my breast and breathe into me as you did when you drew Marsyas from the sheath of his limbs. O divine Power, lend yourself to me so that I may reveal the image of the Blessed Realm imprinted in my mind. If you do, you will see me come to your chosen tree and crown myself with its leaves. My subject and your power will make me worthy of them. Father, those leaves are so rarely gathered to celebrate a Caesar’s or a poet’s triumph. Human desires are at fault, and it is a shame. So whenever anyone longs for the Peneian leaf,⁴ that longing should bring joy to the joyful deity of Delphi. A great flame follows a little spark. Perhaps after me, better voices will offer prayers that Cyrrha⁵ may answer.

The lamp of the world rises to mortals through different passages, but from that which joins four circles with three crosses it issues with better course and conjoined with a better star, and it tempers and seals the mundane wax more after its own fashion⁶ Almost such a passage had made morning there and evening here;⁷ and there all that hemisphere was white, and the other part black, when I saw Beatrice turned upon the left side, and looking into the sun: never did eagle so fix himself upon it. And even as a second ray is wont to issue from the first, and mount upward again, like a pilgrim who wishes to return; thus of her action, infused through the eyes into my imagination, mine was made, and I fixed my eyes upon the sun beyond our use. Much is allowed there which here is not allowed to our faculties, thanks to the place made for the human race as its proper, abode.⁸ Not long did I endure it, nor so little that I did not see it sparkling round about, like iron that issues boiling from the fire. And on a sudden,⁹ day seemed to be added to day, as if He who is able had adorned the heaven with another sun.

The sun, the lamp of the world, rises for mortals along different paths. But one path passes through the meeting of four circles and three crosses. Rising there, the sun follows a better course and joins with a better star. It softens and stamps the wax of the world more nearly in its own likeness.⁶ The sun had risen along almost such a path, bringing morning there and evening here.⁷ The whole hemisphere there was bright, and the other was dark. Then I saw Beatrice turn to her left and look into the sun. No eagle ever stared so steadily at it. A second ray often springs from the first and travels upward again, like a pilgrim wishing to return home. In the same way, Beatrice's action entered my imagination through my eyes and prompted me to do as she did. I fixed my eyes on the sun longer than we can here. Our powers can do much there that they cannot do here, thanks to that place, made as humanity's proper home.⁸ I could not bear to look for long. Yet I looked long enough to see the sun sparkling all around, like iron glowing as it comes from the fire. And suddenly,⁹ day seemed to be added to day, as if he who has the power had placed another sun in the sky.

Beatrice was standing with her eyes wholly fixed on the eternal wheels, and on her I fixed my eyes from thereabove removed. Looking at her I inwardly became such as Glaucus¹⁰ became on tasting of the herb which made him consort in the sea of the other gods. Transhumanizing cannot be signified in words; therefore let the example¹¹ suffice for him to whom grace reserves experience. If I was only what of me thou didst the last create,¹² O Love that governest the heavens, Thou knowest, who with Thy light didst lift me. When the revolution which Thou, being desired, makest eternal,¹³ made me attent unto itself with the harmony which Thou attunest and modulatest, so much of the heaven then seemed to me enkindled by the flame of the sun, that rain or river never made so broad a lake.

Beatrice stood with her eyes fixed entirely on the eternal wheels. I turned my eyes away from them and fixed them on her. As I looked at her, I was inwardly changed, as Glaucus¹⁰ was when he tasted the herb that made him a companion of the other gods in the sea. Transhumanizing cannot be expressed in words. So let the example¹¹ suffice for those whom grace will allow to experience it. O Love that governs the heavens, you lifted me with your light. You know whether I was only the part of me you created last,¹² when the revolution you make eternal by being desired¹³ drew my attention with the harmony you tune and modulate. Then so much of the sky seemed lit by the sun’s flame that no rain or river ever made so broad a lake.

The novelty of the sound and the great light kindled in me a desire concerning their cause, never before felt with such acuteness. Whereupon she, who saw me as I see myself, to quiet my perturbed mind opened her mouth, ere I mine to ask, and began, “Thou thyself makest thyself dull with false imagining, so that thou seest not what thou wouldst see, if thou hadst shaken it off. Thou art not on earth, as thou believest; but lightning, flying from its proper site, never ran as thou who thereunto¹⁴ returnest.”

The unfamiliar sound and the great light made me long to know their cause, more intensely than ever before. She could see into me as clearly as I could see myself. To calm my troubled mind, she spoke before I could ask: “Your own false imaginings make you unable to see what you would see if you shook them off. You are not on earth, as you believe. You are returning there¹⁴ faster than lightning ever flies from its proper place.”

If I was divested of my first doubt by these brief little smiled- out words, within a new one was I the more enmeshed. And I said, “Already I rested content concerning a great wonder; but now I wonder how I can transcend these light bodies.” Whereupon she, after a pitying sigh, directed her eyes toward me, with that look which a mother turns on her delirious son, and she began, “All things whatsoever have order among themselves; and this is the form which makes the universe like to God. Here¹⁵ the high creatures¹⁶ see the imprint of the eternal Goodness, which is the end for which the aforesaid rule is made. In the order of which I speak, all natures are arranged, by diverse lots, more or less near to their source;¹⁷ wherefore they are moved to diverse ports through the great sea of being, and each one with an instinct given to it which may bear it on. This bears the fire upward toward the moon; this is the motive force in mortal hearts; this binds together and unites the earth. Nor does this bow shoot forth.¹⁸ Only the created things which are outside intelligence, but also those which have understanding and love. The Providence that adjusts all this, with its own light makes forever quiet the heaven¹⁹ within which that revolves which hath the greatest speed. And thither now, as to a site decreed, the virtue of that cord bears us on which directs to a joyful mark whatever it shoots. True is it, that as the form often accords not to the intention of the art, because the material is deaf to respond, so the creature sometimes deviates from this course; for it has power, though thus impelled, to incline in another direction (even as the fire of a cloud may be seen to fall²⁰), if the first impetus, bent aside by false pleasure, turn it earthwards. Thou shouldst not, if I deem aright, wonder more at thy ascent, than at a stream if from a high mountain it descends to the base. A marvel it would be in thee, if, deprived of hindrance, thou hadst sat below, even as quiet in living fire on earth would be.”

Her few words, spoken with a smile, freed me from my first doubt, but left me even more entangled in another. I said, “I was satisfied about one great wonder. But now I wonder how I can rise above these bodies of light.” She sighed with pity and looked at me as a mother looks at her delirious son. Then she began, “All things are ordered in relation to one another. This order is what makes the universe resemble God. Here¹⁵ the highest creatures¹⁶ see the imprint of eternal Goodness, the purpose for which this order was made. Within this order, all natures have different places, some nearer to their source and some farther away.¹⁷ So they move toward different ports across the great sea of being. Each has been given an instinct to carry it along. This instinct carries fire upward toward the moon. It moves mortal hearts, and it holds the earth together. This bow sends forth¹⁸ not only created things without intelligence, but also those with understanding and love. “Providence orders all this. With its own light, it keeps forever at rest the heaven¹⁹ within which the fastest-moving thing revolves. The power of that cord now carries us toward that heaven, as our appointed place. The cord directs everything it shoots toward a joyful goal. Yet the finished work often falls short of the artist’s intention because the material does not respond. In the same way, a creature sometimes strays from this course. Though driven forward, it has the power to turn another way, just as fire may be seen falling from a cloud.²⁰ It strays if false pleasure bends its first impulse and turns it toward earth. “If I judge rightly, you should no more wonder at your ascent than at a stream descending from a high mountain to its base. It would be a marvel if, free from hindrance, you had remained below. That would be as strange as living fire on earth remaining still.”

Thereon she turned again toward heaven her face.

Then she turned her face toward heaven again.