CANTO XXIII

               As does the bird, among beloved branches,   

                       when, through the night that hides things from us, she   

                       has rested near the nest of her sweet fledglings

4             and, on an open branch, anticipates

                       the time when she can see their longed-for faces

                       and find the food with which to feed them—chore

7             that pleases her, however hard her labors

                       as she awaits the sun with warm affection,

                       steadfastly watching for the dawn to break:

10           so did my lady stand, erect, intent,

                       turned toward that part of heaven under which   

                       the sun is given to less haste; so that,

13           as I saw her in longing and suspense,

                       I grew to be as one who, while he wants

                       what is not his, is satisfied with hope.

16           But time between one and the other when

                       was brief—I mean the whens of waiting and

                       of seeing heaven grow more radiant.

19           And Beatrice said: “There you see the troops   

                       of the triumphant Christ—and all the fruits

                       ingathered from the turning of these spheres!”

22           It seemed to me her face was all aflame,

                       and there was so much gladness in her eyes

                       I am compelled to leave it undescribed.

25           Like Trivia—at the full moon in clear skies—   

                       smiling among the everlasting nymphs

                       who decorate all reaches of the sky,

28           I saw a sun above a thousand lamps;   

                       it kindled all of them as does our sun

                       kindle the sights above us here on earth;

31           and through its living light the glowing Substance   

                       appeared to me with such intensity

                       my vision lacked the power to sustain it.

34           O Beatrice, sweet guide and dear! She said

                       to me: “What overwhelms you is a Power

                       against which nothing can defend itself.

37           This is the Wisdom and the Potency   

                       that opened roads between the earth and Heaven,

                       the paths for which desire had long since waited.”

40           Even as lightning breaking from a cloud,   

                       expanding so that it cannot be pent,

                       against its nature, down to earth, descends,

43           so did my mind, confronted by that feast,

                       expand; and it was carried past itself

                       what it became, it cannot recollect.

46           “Open your eyes and see what I now am;   

                       the things you witnessed will have made you strong

                       enough to bear the power of my smile.”

49           I was as one who, waking from a dream

                       he has forgotten, tries in vain to bring

                       that vision back into his memory,

52           when I heard what she offered me, deserving

                       of so much gratitude that it can never

                       be canceled from the book that tells the past.   

55           If all the tongues that Polyhymnia   

                       together with her sisters made most rich

                       with sweetest milk, should come now to assist

58           my singing of the holy smile that lit

                       the holy face of Beatrice, the truth

                       would not be reached—not its one-thousandth part.

61           And thus, in representing Paradise,   

                       the sacred poem has to leap across,

                       as does a man who finds his path cut off.

64           But he who thinks upon the weighty theme,

                       and on the mortal shoulder bearing it,

                       will lay no blame if, burdened so, I tremble:

67           this is no crossing for a little bark—   

                       the sea that my audacious prow now cleaves

                       nor for a helmsman who would spare himself.

70           “Why are you so enraptured by my face

                       as to deny your eyes the sight of that

                       fair garden blossoming beneath Christ’s rays?   

73           The Rose in which the Word of God became

                       flesh grows within that garden; there—the lilies

                       whose fragrance let men find the righteous way.”

76           Thus Beatrice, and I—completely ready   

                       to do what she might counsel—once again

                       took up the battle of my feeble brows.

79           Under a ray of sun that, limpid, streams

                       down from a broken cloud, my eyes have seen,

                       while shade was shielding them, a flowered meadow;

82           so I saw many troops of splendors here

                       lit from above by burning rays of light,

                       but where those rays began was not in sight.

85           O kindly Power that imprints them thus,   

                       you rose on high to leave space for my eyes

                       for where I was, they were too weak to see You!

88           The name of that fair flower which I always   

                       invoke, at morning and at evening, drew

                       my mind completely to the greatest flame.

91           And when, on both my eye-lights, were depicted   

                       the force and nature of the living star

                       that conquers heaven as it conquered earth,

94           descending through that sky there came a torch,

                       forming a ring that seemed as if a crown:

                       wheeling around her—a revolving garland.

97           Whatever melody most sweetly sounds

                       on earth, and to itself most draws the soul,

                       would seem a cloud that, torn by lightning, thunders,

100         if likened to the music of that lyre

                       which sounded from the crown of that fair sapphire,

                       the brightest light that has ensapphired heaven.

103         “I am angelic love who wheel around

                       that high gladness inspired by the womb

                       that was the dwelling place of our Desire;

106         so shall I circle, Lady of Heaven, until

                       you, following your Son, have made that sphere   

                       supreme, still more divine by entering it.”

109         So did the circulating melody,

                       sealing itself, conclude; and all the other

                       lights then resounded with the name of Mary.

112         The royal cloak of all the wheeling spheres   

                       within the universe, the heaven most

                       intense, alive, most burning in the breath

115         of God and in His laws and ordinance,

                       was far above us at its inner shore,

                       so distant that it still lay out of sight

118         from that point where I was; and thus my eyes

                       possessed no power to follow that crowned flame,

                       which mounted upward, following her Son.

121         And like an infant who, when it has taken

                       its milk, extends its arms out to its mother,

                       its feeling kindling into outward flame,

124         each of those blessed splendors stretched its peak

                       upward, so that the deep affection each

                       possessed for Mary was made plain to me.

127         Then they remained within my sight, singing

                       “Regina coeli” with such tenderness   

                       that my delight in that has never left me.

130         Oh, in those richest coffers, what abundance

                       is garnered up for those who, while below,

                       on earth, were faithful workers when they sowed!   

133         Here do they live, delighting in the treasure   

                       they earned with tears in Babylonian

                       exile, where they had no concern for gold.

136         Here, under the high Son of God and Mary,

                       together with the ancient and the new   

                       councils, he triumphs in his victory

139         he who is keeper of the keys of glory.