When geomancers their Fortuna Major
See in the orient before the dawnRise by a path that long remains not dim,
There came to me in dreams a stammering woman,Squint in her eyes, and in her feet distorted,With hands dissevered and of sallow hue.
I looked at her; and as the sun restoresThe frigid members which the night benumbs,Even thus my gaze did render voluble
Her tongue, and made her all erect thereafterIn little while, and the lost countenanceAs love desires it so in her did colour.
When in this wise she had her speech unloosed,She ’gan to sing so, that with difficultyCould I have turned my thoughts away from her.
“I am,” she sang, “I am the Siren sweetWho mariners amid the main unman,So full am I of pleasantness to hear.
I drew Ulysses from his wandering wayUnto my song, and he who dwells with meSeldom departs so wholly I content him.”
Her mouth was not yet closed again, beforeAppeared a Lady saintly and alertClose at my side to put her to confusion.
“Virgilius, O Virgilius! who is this?”Sternly she said; and he was drawing nearWith eyes still fixed upon that modest one.
She seized the other and in front laid open,Rending her garments, and her belly showed me;This waked me with the stench that issued from it.
I turned mine eyes, and good Virgilius said:“At least thrice have I called thee; rise and come;Find we the opening by which thou mayst enter.”
I rose; and full already of high dayWere all the circles of the Sacred Mountain,And with the new sun at our back we went.
Following behind him, I my forehead boreLike unto one who has it laden with thought,Who makes himself the half arch of a bridge,
When I heard say, “Come, here the passage is,”Spoken in a manner gentle and benign,Such as we hear not in this mortal region.
With open wings, which of a swan appeared,Upward he turned us who thus spake to us,Between the two walls of the solid granite.
He moved his pinions afterwards and fanned us,Affirming those ‘qui lugent’ to be blessed,For they shall have their souls with comfort filled.
“What aileth thee, that aye to earth thou gazest?”To me my Guide began to say, we bothSomewhat beyond the Angel having mounted.
And I: “With such misgiving makes me goA vision new, which bends me to itself,So that I cannot from the thought withdraw me.”
“Didst thou behold,” he said, “that old enchantress,Who sole above us henceforth is lamented?Didst thou behold how man is freed from her?
Suffice it thee, and smite earth with thy heels,Thine eyes lift upward to the lure, that whirlsThe Eternal King with revolutions vast.”
Even as the hawk, that first his feet surveys,Then turns him to the call and stretches forward,Through the desire of food that draws him thither,
Such I became, and such, as far as cleavesThe rock to give a way to him who mounts,Went on to where the circling doth begin.
On the fifth circle when I had come forth,People I saw upon it who were weeping,Stretched prone upon the ground, all downward turned.
“Adhaesit pavimento anima mea,”I heard them say with sighings so profound,That hardly could the words be understood.
“O ye elect of God, whose sufferingsJustice and Hope both render less severe,Direct ye us towards the high ascents.”
“If ye are come secure from this prostration,And wish to find the way most speedily,Let your right hands be evermore outside.”
Thus did the Poet ask, and thus was answeredBy them somewhat in front of us; whence IIn what was spoken divined the rest concealed,
And unto my Lord’s eyes mine eyes I turned;Whence he assented with a cheerful signTo what the sight of my desire implored.
When of myself I could dispose at will,Above that creature did I draw myself,Whose words before had caused me to take note,
Saying: “O Spirit, in whom weeping ripensThat without which to God we cannot turn,Suspend awhile for me thy greater care.
Who wast thou, and why are your backs turned upwards,Tell me, and if thou wouldst that I procure theeAnything there whence living I departed.”
And he to me: “Wherefore our backs the heavenTurns to itself, know shalt thou; but beforehand‘Scias quod ego fui successor Petri.’