DANTE INFERRED
Canto XXIII

... e giú dal collo de la ripa dura
supin si diede a la pendente roccia,
che l’un de’ lati a l’altra bolgia tura.
Non corse mai sí tosto acqua per doccia
a volger ruota di molin terragno,
quand’ ella piú verso le pale approccia,
come ’l maestro mio per quel vivagno,
portandosene me sovra ’l suo petto,
come suo figlio, non come compagno.
A pena fuoro i piè suoi giunti al letto
del fondo giú, ch’e’ furon in sul colle ...


43









53
 Twenty-third Chance

And so you collapse, at this ripe hour?
Lying down you die like some penitent rock?
The moon running late in its travels,
cursing its taste for dockwater,
and the moles in their vulgar tyranny
squint a bit at the first pale approach
of the maelstrom, killed and coming to life.
Pretend to see its sovereign sweep,
come softly to Ilion, come, be my companion.
A penny for your fire, for the giants - no peace:
Let the fury called “you” be found.
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