Paradiso: Canto X
Looking into his
Son with all the Love
Which
each of them eternally breathes forth,
The Primal and unutterable Power
Whate'er before the
mind or eye revolves
With
so much order made, there can be none
Who this beholds without enjoying Him.
Lift up then,
Reader, to the lofty wheels
With
me thy vision straight unto that part
Where the one motion on the other strikes,
And there begin to
contemplate with joy
That
Master's art, who in himself so loves it
That never doth his eye depart therefrom.
Behold how from
that point goes branching off
The
oblique circle, which conveys the planets,
To satisfy the world that calls upon them;
And if their
pathway were not thus inflected,
Much
virtue in the heavens would be in vain,
And almost every power below here dead.
If from the
straight line distant more or less
Were
the departure, much would wanting be
Above and underneath of mundane order.
Remain now, Reader,
still upon thy bench,
In
thought pursuing that which is foretasted,
If thou wouldst jocund be instead of weary.
I've set before
thee; henceforth feed thyself,
For
to itself diverteth all my care
That theme whereof I have been made the scribe.
The greatest of the
ministers of nature,
Who
with the power of heaven the world imprints
And measures with his light the time for us,
With that part
which above is called to mind
Conjoined,
along the spirals was revolving,
Where each time earlier he presents himself;
And I was with him;
but of the ascending
I
was not conscious, saving as a man
Of a first thought is conscious ere it come;
And Beatrice, she
who is seen to pass
From
good to better, and so suddenly
That not by time her action is expressed,
How lucent in
herself must she have been!
And
what was in the sun, wherein I entered,
Apparent not by colour but by light,
I, though I call on
genius, art, and practice,
Cannot
so tell that it could be imagined;
Believe one can, and let him long to see it.
And if our
fantasies too lowly are
For
altitude so great, it is no marvel,
Since o'er the sun was never eye could go.
Such in this place
was the fourth family
Of
the high Father, who forever sates it,
Showing how he breathes forth and how begets.
And Beatrice began:
"Give thanks, give thanks
Unto
the Sun of Angels, who to this
Sensible one has raised thee by his grace!"
Never was heart of
mortal so disposed
To
worship, nor to give itself to God
With all its gratitude was it so ready,
As at those words
did I myself become;
And
all my love was so absorbed in Him,
That in oblivion Beatrice was eclipsed.
Nor this displeased
her; but she smiled at it
So
that the splendour of her laughing eyes
My single mind on many things divided.
Lights many saw I,
vivid and triumphant,
Make
us a centre and themselves a circle,
More sweet in voice than luminous in aspect.
Thus girt about the
daughter of Latona
We
sometimes see, when pregnant is the air,
So that it holds the thread which makes her zone.
Within the court of
Heaven, whence I return,
Are
many jewels found, so fair and precious
They cannot be transported from the realm;
And of them was the
singing of those lights.
Who
takes not wings that he may fly up thither,
The tidings thence may from the dumb await!
As soon as singing
thus those burning suns
Had
round about us whirled themselves three times,
Like unto stars neighbouring the steadfast poles,
Ladies they seemed,
not from the dance released,
But
who stop short, in silence listening
Till they have gathered the new melody.
And within one I
heard beginning: "When
The
radiance of grace, by which is kindled
True love, and which thereafter grows by loving,
Within thee
multiplied is so resplendent
That
it conducts thee upward by that stair,
Where without reascending none descends,
Who should deny the
wine out of his vial
Unto
thy thirst, in liberty were not
Except as water which descends not seaward.
Fain wouldst thou
know with what plants is enflowered
This
garland that encircles with delight
The Lady fair who makes thee strong for heaven.
Of the lambs was I
of the holy flock
Which
Dominic conducteth by a road
Where well one fattens if he strayeth not.
He who is nearest
to me on the right
My
brother and master was; and he Albertus
Is of Cologne, I Thomas of Aquinum.
If thou of all the
others wouldst be certain,
Follow
behind my speaking with thy sight
Upward along the blessed garland turning.
That next
effulgence issues from the smile
Of
Gratian, who assisted both the courts
In such wise that it pleased in Paradise.
The other which
near by adorns our choir
That
Peter was who, e'en as the poor widow,
Offered his treasure unto Holy Church.
The fifth light,
that among us is the fairest,
Breathes
forth from such a love, that all the world
Below is greedy to learn tidings of it.
Within it is the
lofty mind, where knowledge
So
deep was put, that, if the true be true,
To see so much there never rose a second.
Thou seest next the
lustre of that taper,
Which
in the flesh below looked most within
The angelic nature and its ministry.
Within that other
little light is smiling
The
advocate of the Christian centuries,
Out of whose rhetoric Augustine was furnished.
Now if thou
trainest thy mind's eye along
From
light to light pursuant of my praise,
With thirst already of the eighth thou waitest.
By seeing every
good therein exults
The
sainted soul, which the fallacious world
Makes manifest to him who listeneth well;
The body whence
'twas hunted forth is lying
Down
in Cieldauro, and from martyrdom
And banishment it came unto this peace.
See farther onward
flame the burning breath
Of
Isidore, of Beda, and of Richard
Who was in contemplation more than man.
This, whence to me
returneth thy regard,
The
light is of a spirit unto whom
In his grave meditations death seemed slow.
It is the light
eternal of Sigier,
Who,
reading lectures in the Street of Straw,
Did syllogize invidious verities."
Then, as a horologe
that calleth us
What
time the Bride of God is rising up
With matins to her Spouse that he may love her,
Wherein one part
the other draws and urges,
Ting!
ting! resounding with so sweet a note,
That swells with love the spirit well disposed,
Thus I beheld the
glorious wheel move round,
And
render voice to voice, in modulation
And sweetness that can not be comprehended,
Excepting there
where joy is made eternal.
This document (last modifiedJanuary 08, 1998) from Believerscafe.com
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