1 Upon the little valley’s verdant floor
I, Virgil, Sordello, Nino the judge
and Conrad Malespina spoke no more
4 and I, imperfect man, slept deep until
that early hour when swallows, sensing dawn,
mournfully cheep and sleepers, not disturbed
7 by dreams of bodily and mental stress
sometimes see visions of pure blessèdness.
A golden-feathered eagle seemed to be
10 hovering overhead with wings outspread.
I thought, “That bird seized Ganymede to be
butler in Paradise, so fair was he.
13 He won’t want me!” Then like a thunderbolt
it swooped and, snatching, soared with me up, up,
up to the height of Empyrean fire
16 where the imagined heat fused us in one
before at last (of course) awaking me.
The mother of Achilles carried him
19 asleep from Crete to a Greek island where
his opening eyes knew nothing he could see.
Two hours after day dawned I woke like that,
cold, weak, and staring at the ocean’s shore 21
far, far below. My comforter and guide
seated at my side said, “Do not be afraid.
Your state is excellent. Before day broke, 25
as you were fast asleep upon the flowers
that clothe the lower dell, a lady came.
She said, I, Lucy, come to lift this man 28
and take him, sleeping, further on his way.
Sordello stayed with other noble souls
as when this clear day dawned she took you up, 31
I following until she laid you here
and pointed to that gate before she left.”
Made confident once more I rose to face 34
the rampart of the mountainside, my guide
leading me up to a much higher place
than we had been before. Reader, please know 37
I must rise to a higher theme, sustained
by greater art. We reached what at first seemed
a cleft in that rock wall, but was a gate 40
above three coloured steps, each different.
On the threshold a silent warder sat,
his face so bright I could not bear the sight, 43
and in his hand he held a naked sword
I also could not look on steadily,
for it reflected light so dazzlingly. 46
“Where are you from? What do you seek?” he said.
“If no Heavenly escort brings you here,
49 beware! This upward climb may do you harm.”
“A messenger from Heaven,” said my guide,
“recently pointed us toward this gate.
52 Her name was Lucy.” “Enter then, and climb,”
the courteous warder said, so I set foot
on a white marble slab so polished smooth
55 it mirrored me exactly as I am.
The second step was purple, rough and cracked
throughout its length and breadth. The topmost step
58 resembled porphyry, as red as blood
spurted from vein. The angel’s feet reposed
on this. The threshold where he sat above
61 was clearly of the hardest adamant.
On these three steps my leader led me up,
saying, “Now ask him to fling wide the gate.”
64 I threw myself down at his holy feet,
and after beating on my breast three times
begged him to mercifully let me through.
67 With his sword point he etched upon my brow
seven Ps, then said, “As you climb within
these will be healed away.” Out of his robe
70 of ashen colour he removed two keys,
one gold, one silver. Turning in the lock
the white first, then the yellow, he explained,
73 “When both keys do not turn the gate stays shut.
One is more precious but the other needs
more skill, more wisdom, to make it unlock.
Peter who gave them told me if I erred 76
to err on mercy’s side, so in you come
but don’t look back or you will be expelled.”
When Caesar burst in through a temple door 79
to rob Tarpeian gold, they thundered loud.
The hinges here roared louder grinding round,
but entering I heard sweet voices sound 82
blending with organ chords, and ringing clear
in the Te Deum, mighty mirthful hymn,
which most of all on Earth I love to hear. 85