At that moment, I say most truly that the spirit of life, which hath its dwelling in the secretest chamber of the heart, began to tremble so violently that the least pulses of my body shook therewith; and in trembling it said these words: Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi [Here is a deity stronger than I; who, coming, shall rule over me].
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.), ch. 1]

At that moment (I speak it in all truth) the spirit of life, which abides in the most secret chamber of the heart, began to trumble with a violence that showed horribly in the minutest pulsations of my fram, and tremulously it spoke these words: -- "Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi! Behold a god stronger than I, who cometh to triumph over me!"
[tr. Martin (1862), ch. 1]

At that instant, I say truly that the spirit of life, which dwells in the most secret chamber of the heart, began to tremble with such violence that it appeared fearfully in the least pulses, and, trembling, said these words: Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur mihi [Behold a god stronger than I, who coming shall rule over me].
[tr. Norton (1867), ch. 2]

At that moment, I say truly that the vital spirit, the one that dwells in the most secret chamber of the heart, began to tremble so violently that even the least pulses of my body were strangely affected; and trembling, it spoke these words: “Here is a god stronger than I, who shall come to rule over me.”
[tr. Musa (1971), ch. 2]

At that very moment, and I speak the truth, the vital spirit, the one that dwells in the most secret chamber of the heart, began to tremble so violently that even the most minute veins of my body were strangely affected; and trembling, it spoke these words: Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi.
[tr. Hollander (1997), ch. 2]

At that moment I say truly that the vital spirit, that which lives in the most secret chamber of the heart began to tremble so violently that I felt it fiercely in the least pulsation, and, trembling, it uttered these words: "Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi: Behold a god more powerful than I, who, coming, will rule over me."
[tr. Kline (2002), ch. 2]

At that moment, I say truly, the vital spirit, which resides in the most secret chamber of the heart, began to tremble so strongly that it was terribly evident in my slightest heartbeats, and tremblingly it spoke these words: "Behold a god stronger than I, who is coming and will dominate me."
[tr. Appelbaum (2006), ch. 2]

At that time, truly, I say, the vital spirit, which dwells in the innermost chamber of the heart, started to tremble so powerfully that its disturbance reached all the way to the slightest of my pulses. And trembling it spoke these words: “Ecce deus fortior me, qui veniens dominabitur michi” [Here is a god stronger than I, who comes to rule me].
[tr. Frisardi (2012), ch. 1]

Of a surety I have now set my feet on that point of life, beyond the which he must not pass who would return.
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.)]

I have set my foot in that part of life, to pass beyond which with purpose to return is impossible.
[tr. Martin (1862)]

I have held my feet on that part of life beyond which no man can go with intent to return.
[tr. Norton (1867)]

I have placed my feet on those boundaries of life beyond which no one can go further and hope to return.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

I have just set foot on that boundary of life beyond which no one can go, hoping to return.
[tr. Hollander (1997)]

I have set foot in that region of life where it is not possible to go with any more intention of returning.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

My feet were at the edge of life beyond which one cannot pass with an expectation of returning.
[tr. Appelbaum (2006)]

I have set my feet in that place in life beyond which one cannot go with the intention of returning.
[tr. Frisardi (2012), ch. 7]

All choicest gifts in nature’s power are her’s:
In her example beauty finds its test.
[tr. Lyell (1845)]

She is as high as Nature’s skill can soar;
Beauty is tried by her comparison.
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.)]

She is the sum of all on earth most rare;
Beauty by her bright standard tests its claim.
[tr. Martin (1862)]

Whate’er of good Nature can make she is,
And by her pattern beauty tries itself.
[tr. Norton (1867)]

She is the sum of nature's universe.
To her perfection all of beauty tends.
[tr. Reynolds (1969)]

She is the highest nature can achieve
And by her mold all beauty tests itself.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

She is the best that Nature can achieve and by her mold all beauty tests itself.
[tr. Hollander (1997)]

She is the greatest good nature can create:
beauty is proven by her example.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

She is the highest good that nature can make;
beauty is tested with her as the touchstone.
[tr. Appelbaum (2006)]

In that part of the book of my memory before the which is little that can be read, there is a rubric, saying, Incipit Vita Nova.
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.)]

In that part of the book of my memory, anterior whereto is little that can be read, stands a rubric, which says : -- "Incipit Vita Nova. Here beginneth the New Life."
[tr. Martin (1862)]

In that part of the book of my memory before which little can be read is found a rubric which says: Incipit Vita Nova [The New Life begins].
[tr. Norton (1867), "Proem"]

In the book of my memory, after the first pages, which are almost blank, there is a section headed Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Reynolds (1969)]

In that part of my book of memory before which there would be little to read is found a chapter heading which says: “Here begins the new life.”
[tr. Musa (1971)]

In my Book of Memory, in the early part where there is little to be read, there comes a chapter with the rubric: Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Hollander (1997)]

In that part of the book of my memory before which little may be read is found a rubric which says: "The new life begins."
[tr. Appelbaum (2006)]

In the book of my memory -- the part of it before which not much is legible -- there is the heading Incipit vita nova.
[tr. Frisardi (2012)]

In that book which is
My memory ...
On the first page
That is the chapter when
I first met you
Appear the words ...
"Here begins a new life."

This raging Beast, which here you so much dread
Permits not any to pass on their way,
And never leaves them 'till their death she gains:
Her nature so perversely is dispos'd
That she never satisfies her greedy will;
But with each meal her hunger is increas'd.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 84ff]

Monster so fell, Numidia never bore,
As she, who riots there in human gore,
By inextinguishable famine stung.
The Fiend her hunger tries to sate in vain.
Still grows her appetite with growing pain.
And ceaseless rapine feeds the rising blaze.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 17-18]

This beast,
At whom thou criest, her way will suffer none
To pass, and no less hindrance makes than death:
So bad and so accursed in her kind,
That never sated is her ravenous will,
Still after food more craving than before.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

For the fell beast who late, thy steps waylaying,
Caused thee to shriek, lets none a passage find
Across her walk, but hindereth e'en to slaying.
Baleful she is, and of so curst a kind.
Her ravenous maw no glut can satisfy.
But eats and leaves a hungrier greed behind.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Because this beast, for which thou criest, lets not men pass her way; but so entangles that she slays them;
and has a nature so perverse and vicious, that she never satiates her craving appetite; and after feeding, she is hungrier than before.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

The beast for which you utter such a cry
Suffers none else to pass her way, and will
Obstruct so far their passage as to kill:
Of nature so malignant to the core,
Insatiate hungers, ever longs for more;
And after eating hungrier than before.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

For lo! this creature, cause of thy great cry,
Lets none pass her, but so bars the way,
And with such deadly malice, that she slays.
So evil is her nature and so foul,
Her lustful appetite is never quench'd
And after eating she still craves the more.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

Because this beast, at which thou criest out,
Suffers not any one to pass her way,
But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
That never doth she glut her greedy will,
And after food is hungrier than before.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Because this beast, for the which thou criest out, lets not any pass by her way, but hinders him in such wise that she slays him. And she has a nature so evil and guilty that she never fulfils her greedy will, and after her repast has more hunger than before.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

That beast, at which thou criest, by this way
Permits not one to pass, for evermore,
But bars the passage so, that she will slay.
Of wickedness her nature has such store
That her keen craving ne'er is satisfied,
But after food she's hungrier than before.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

For this beast, because of which thou criest out, lets not any one pass along her way, but so hinders him that she kills him! and she has a nature so malign and evil that she never sates her greedy will, and after food is hungrier than before.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Because this beast, by reason of which thou criest aloud, suffereth none to come her way, but hindereth so rudely, that she slayeth them. So baneful and accursed is her nature, that she can never glut her ravening greed ; and after feeding she is hungrier than before.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

For this same beast, for cause whereof thou criest.
To pass along her way allows no stranger,
But hindereth him so far that she doth slay him.
Nature hath she so wicked and malicious
That never doth she sate her ravenous craving,
And after food is hungrier than before it.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

For this beast on account of which thou criest lets no man pass her way, but hinders them till she takes their life, and she has a nature so vicious and malignant that her greedy appetite is never satisfied and after good she is hungrier than before.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

Because this beast, at which thou criest still,
Suffereth none to go upon her path,
But hindereth and entangleth till she kill,
And hath a nature so perverse in wrath,
Her craving maw never is satiated
But after food the fiercer hunger hath.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

For that mad beast that leers
before you there, suffers no man to pass.
She tracks down all, kills all, and knows no glut,
but, feeding, she grows hungrier than she was.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 90ff]

For this beast, the cause of your complaint, lets no man pass her way, but so besets him that she slays him; and she has a nature so vicious and malign that she never sates her greedy appetite and after feeding is hungrier than before.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

This beast, the one you cry about in fear,
allows no soul to succeed along her path,
she blocks his way and puts an end to him.
She is by nature so perverse and vicious,
her craving belly is never satisfied,
still hungering for food the more she eats.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

The beast that is the cause of your outcry
allows no man to pass along her track,
but blocks him even to the point of death;
her nature is so squalid, so malicious
that she can never sate her greedy will;
when she has fed, she's hungrier than ever.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

For that beast, which has made you so call out,
Does not allow others to pass her way,
But holds them up, and in the end destroys them;
And is by nature so wayward and perverted
That she never satisfies her willful desires,
But, after a meal, is hungrier than before.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

This beast,
The cause of your complaint, lets no one pass
Her way -- but harries all to death. Her nature
Is so malign and vicious she cannot appease
Her voracity, for feeding makes her hungrier.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 72ff]

For this beast at which you cry out lets no one pass by her way, but so much impedes him that she kills him;
and she has a nature so evil and cruel that her greedy desire is never satisfied, and after feeding she is hungrier than before.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

This creature, that distresses you, allows no man to cross her path, but obstructs him, to destroy him, and she has so vicious and perverse a nature, that she never sates her greedy appetite, and after food is hungrier than before.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

That beast -- you cry out at the very sight --
lets no one through who passes on her way.
She blocks their progress; and there they all die.
She is by her nature cruel, so vicious
she can never sate her voracious will,
but, feasting well, is hungrier than before.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

For the beast that moves you to cry out
lets no man pass her way,
but so besets him that she slays him.
Her nature is so vicious and malign
her greedy appetite is never sated --
after she feeds she is hungrier than ever.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

Because this beast you complain of never lets
Anyone pass her along this road, harassing
And hindering them until she sees them dead,
Her nature being so malign and savage
That she is never able to finish her feasting,
Hungrier after she eats than before.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

You're bound to lose:
Bound by the spell of this beast pledged to keep
you crying, you or anyone else who tries
To get by. In a bad mood it can kill,
And it's never in a good mood. See those eyes?
So great a hunger nothing can fulfil.
It eats, it wants more, like the many men
Infected by its bite.
[tr. James (2013)]

The cat that drove you back and made you cry
Ends the life to any who try
To pass her on their way through.
She's insane and insatiable. She eats more
And that just makes her more malignant with craving.
She kills all she comes in contact with. All with whom she comes.
[tr. Bang (2013)]

Through me you to the doleful City go;
Through me you go where there is eternal Grief;
Through me you go among the Sinners damn'ed.
With strictest justice is this portal made,
By Power, Wisdom, and by Love divine.
Nothing before me e'er created was;
Unless eternal, as I also am.
Ye who here enter to return despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]

Thro' me, the newly-damn'd for ever fleet,
In ceaseless shoals, to Pain's eternal seat;
Thro' me they march, and join the tortur'd crew.
The mighty gulph offended Justice made;
Unbounded pow'r the strong foundation laid,
And Love, by Wisdom led, the limits drew.

Long ere the infant world arose to light,
I found a being in the womb of night.
Eldest of all -- but things that ever last! --
And I for ever last! -- Ye hear is of Hell,
Here bid at once your ling'ring hope farewell,
And mourn the moment of repentance past!
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 1-2]

Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
"All hope abandon ye who enter here."
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Through me the path to city named of Wail;
Through me the path to woe without remove;
Through me the path to damned souls in bale!
Justice inclined my Maker from above;
I am by virtue of the Might Divine,
The Supreme Wisdom, and the Primal Love.
Created birth none antedates to mine,
Save endless things, and endless I endure:
Ye that are entering -- all hope resign.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Through me is the way into the doleful city; through me the way into the eternal pain; through me the way among the people lost.
Justice moved my High Maker; Divine Power made me, Wisdom Supreme, and Primal Love.
Before me were no things created, but eternal; and eternal I endure: leave all hope, ye that enter.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Through me the way into the sad city --
Through me the way into eternal grief --
Through me to nations lost without relief.
Justice it was that moved my Maker high,
The power divine of Architect above,
The highest wisdom and the earliest love.
The things of time were not before me, and
'Mid eternal eternally I stand.
All you that enter must leave hope behind.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

I am the way unto the dolorous city;
I am the way unto th' eternal dole;
I am the way unto the spirits lost.
By Justice was my mighty Maker mov'd;
Omnipotence Divine created me,
Infinite Wisdom and Primeval Love.
Prior to me no thing created was
But things eternal -- I eternal am;
Leave hope behind all ye who enter here.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

Through me the way is to the city dolent;
Through me the way is to eternal dole;
Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice incited my sublime Creator;
⁠Created me divine Omnipotence,
⁠The highest Wisdom and the primal Love.
Before me there were no created things,
⁠Only eterne, and I eternal last.
All hope abandon, ye who enter in!
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

THROUGH ME IS THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY TO THE ENTERNAL WOE; THROUGH ME IS THE WAY AMONG THE LOST FOLK. JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER; MY MAKER WAS THE POWER OF GOD, THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE. BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED SAVE THINGS ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ABIDE; LEAVE EVERY HOPE, O YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Through me ye pass into the city of woe,
Through me into eternal pain ye rove;
Through me amidst the people lost ye go.
My high Creator justice first did move;
Me Power Divine created, and designed,
The highest wisdom and the primal love.
Previous to me was no created kind,
Save the Eternal; I eternal last.
Ye who here enter, leave all hope behind.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Through me is the way into the woeful city; through me is the way into eternal woe; through me is the way among the lost people. Justice moved my lofty maker: the divine Power, the supreme Wisdom and the primal Love made me. Before me were no things created, unless eternal, and I eternal last. Leave every hope, ye who enter!
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Through me lieth the way to the city of tribulation; through me lieth the way to the pain that hath no end; through me lieth the way amongst the lost. Justice it was that moved my august maker; God's puissance reared me, wisdom from on high, and first-born love. Before me created things were not, save those that are eternal; and I abide eternally. Leave every hope behind, ye that come within.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Through me the road is to the city doleful:
Through me the road is to eternal dolour:
Through me the road is through the lost folk's dwelling:
Justice it was that moved my lofty Maker:
Divine Omnipotence it was that made me,
Wisdom supreme, and Love from everlasting:
Before me were not any things created.
Save things eternal: I endure eternal:
Leave every hope behind you, ye who enter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE WOEFUL CITY,
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH,
DIVINE POWER MADE ME
AND SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE;
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED
BUT ETERNAL THINGS AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YE THAT ENTER.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY IS TO THE CITY OF WOE:
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE ETERNAL PAIN;
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST BELOW.
RIGHTEOUSNESS DID MY MAKER ON HIGH CONSTRAIN.
ME DID DIVINE AUTHORITY UPREAR;
ME SUPREME WISDOM AND PRIMAL LOVE SUSTAIN.
BEFORE I WAS, NO THINGS CREATED WERE
SAVE THE ETERNAL, AND I ETERNAL ABIDE.
RELINQUISH ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO THE CITY OF DESOLATION,
THROUGH ME THE ROAD TO SORROWS DIUTURNAL,
THROUGH ME THE ROAD AMONG THE LOST CREATION.
JUSTICE MOVED MY GREAT MAKER; GOD ETERNAL
WROUGHT ME: THE POWER, AND THE UNSEARCHINBLY
HIGH WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE SUPERNAL.
NOTHING ERE I 2WAS MADE WAS MADE TO BE
SAVE THINGS ENTERNE, AND I ETERNE ABIDE;
LAY DOWN ALL HOPE, YOU THAT GO IN BY ME.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

I AM THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE.
I AM THE WAY TO A FORSAKEN PEOPLE.
I AM THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW.
SACRED JUSTICE MOVED MY ARCHITECT.
I WAS RAISED HERE BY DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE,
PRIMORDIAL LOVE, AND ULTIMATE INTELLECT.
ONLY THOSE ELEMENTS TIME CANNOT WEAR
WERE MADE BEFORE ME, AND BEHOND TIME I STAND.
ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE WOEFUL CITY,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER ETERNAL GRIEF,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER:
THE DIVINE POWER MADE ME,
THE SUPREME WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS CREATED
IF NOT ETERNAL, AND ETERNAL I ENDURE.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE DOLEFUL CITY,
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL GRIEF,
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG A RACE FORSAKEN.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HEAVENLY CONSTRUCTOR;
DIVINE OMNIPOTENCE CREATED ME,
AND HIGHEST WISDOM JOINED WITH PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS
WERE MADE, AND I SHALL LAST ETERNALLY.
ABANDON HOPE, FOREVER, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY,
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST.
JUSTICE URGED ON MY HIGH ARTIFICER;
MY MAKER WAS DIVINE AUTHORITY,
THE HIGHEST WISDOM, AND THE PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME NOTHING BUT ETERNAL THINGS
WERE MADE, AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

Through me you go into the city of weeping;
Through me you go into eternal pain;
Through me you go among the lost people.
Justice is what moved my exalted Maker;
I was the invention of the power of God,
Of his wisdom, and of his primal love.
Before me there was nothing that was created
Except eternal things; I am eternal:
No room for hope, when you enter this place.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO THE CITY OF WOES,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER THE POPULATION OF LOSS.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER, IN POWER DIVINE,
WISDOM SUPREME, LOVE PRIMAL. NO THINGS WERE
BEFORE ME NOT ENTERNAL; ETERNAL I REMAIN.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE GRIEVING CITY,
2THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO ETERNAL SORROW,
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY HIGH MAKER;
DIVINE POWER MADE ME,
HIGHEST WISDOM, AND PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME WERE NO THINGS CREATED
EXCEPT ETERNAL ONES, AND I ENDURE ETERNAL.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE INFERNAL CITY:
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL SADNESS:
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE LOST PEOPLE.
JUSTICE MOVED MY SUPREME MAKER:
I WAS SHAPED BY DIVINE POWER,
BY HIGHEST WISDOM, AND BY PRIMAL LOVE.
BEFORE ME, NOTHING WAS CREATED,
THAT IS NOT ETERNAL: AND ETERNAL I ENDURE.
FORSAKE ALL HOPE, ALL YOU THAT ENTER HERE.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Through me, into the city full of woe;
through me, the message of eternal pain;
through me, the passage where the lost souls go.
Justice moved my Maker in his high domain;
Power Divine and Primal Love built me,
and Supreme Wisdom; I will aye remain.
Before me there was nothing made to be,
except eternity; eternal I endure;
all hope abandon, ye who go through me.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Through me you go to the grief-wracked city.
Through me to everlasting pain you go.
Through me you go and pass among lost souls.
Justice inspired my exalted Creator.
I am a creature of the Holiest Power,
of Wisdom in the HIghest and of Primal Love.
Nothing till I was made was made, only
eternal beings. And I endure eternally.
Surrender as you enter every hope you have.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

It is through me you come to the city of sorrow,
It is through me you reach eternal sadness,
It is through me you join the forever-lost.
Justice moved my makers' wondrous hands;
I was made by Heaven's powers, holy, divine,
Endless wisdom, primal love of man.
Eternal existence preceded mine,
And nothing more. I will exist for ever.
Give up all hope, until the end of time.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

TO ENTER THE LOST CITY, GO THROUGH ME.
THROUGH ME YOU GO TO MEET A SUFFERING
UNCEASING AND ETERNAL. YOU WILL BE
WITH PEOPLE WHO, THROUGH ME, LOST EVERYTHING.

MY MAKER, MOVED BY JUSTICE, LIVES ABOVE.
THROUGH HIM, THE HOLY POWER, I WAS MADE --
MADE BY THE HEIGHT OF WISDOM AND FIRST LOVE,
WHOSE LAWS ALL THOSE IN HERE ONCE DISOBEYED.

FROM NOW ON, EVERY DAY FEELS LIKE YOUR LAST
FOREVER. LET THAT BE YOUR GREATEST FEAR.
YOUR FUTURE NOW IS TO REGRET THE PAST.
FORGET YOUR HOPES. THEY WERE WHAT BROUGHT YOU HERE.
[tr. James (2013)]

Lo, rowing tow'rds us was one white with age,
And bawling out, "woe do you Souls deprav'd,
Heaven expects you not e'er more to see;
I come to waft you to another coast,
Where are eternal Darkness, Heat, and Frost."
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 68ff]

Far off exclaim'd the grizzly mariner,
"Hither, ye Denizens of Hell, repair!
The Stygian barque her wonted load requires;
For you diurnal stars beignant beam,
Prepare ye now to feel the fierce extreme
Of frost corrosive, and outrageous fire."
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 19]

And lo! toward us in a bark
Comes on an old man hoary white with eld,
Crying, "Woe to you wicked spirits! hope not
Ever to see the sky again. I come
To take you to the other shore across,
Into eternal darkness, there to dwell
In fierce heat and in ice.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

When lo! to meet us came
An ancient boatman, hoar with many a year.
Crying, "Woe to you, souls of evil name!
Ne'er hope to see the bright celestial sphere:
I come to waft you to another shore,
Where, cold or heat, still endless night is near.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

And lo! an old man, white with ancient hair, comes towards us in a bark, shouting, "Woe to you, depraved spirits!
hope not ever to see Heaven: I come to lead you to the other shore; into the eternal darkness; into fire and into ice."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

And lo! towards us came one in a bark,
Whose head with hoar antiquity was white,
Cried, "Wow! Ye wicked souls, no more for heaven,
I come to lead you to yon other hold --
Darkness eternal, and to hot and cold!
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

And lo! towards us in a bark approach'd
An aged man and white with hoary hair
Crying -- "Woe, woe to you, ye wicked souls!
Hope not that you can ever Heaven behold;
I come to guide you to the other shore,
To night eternal, endless cold and heat.
[tr. Johnston (1867), l. 92ff]

And lo! towards us coming in a boat
An old man, hoary with the hair of eld,
Crying: "Woe unto you, ye souls depraved!
Hope nevermore to look upon the heavens; ⁠
I come to lead you to the other shore,
To the eternal shades in heat and frost."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

And behold came towards us in a boat an old man white by reason of ancient hair, crying, ‘Woe to you, perverse souls! Hope not again to see the sky; I come to bring you to the other bank, among the eternal gloom, to heat and to cold."
[tr. Butler (1885)]

When lo! upon a bark there towards us came
A very old man, with age-whitened hair.
Crying aloud, "Ah, woe, ye souls of shame!
Hope not again to see the sky so fair.
I come to take ye to the other side.
To shades eterne of heat and freezing there."
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

And lo! coming toward us in a boat, an old man, white with ancient hair, crying, “Woe to you, wicked souls! hope not ever to see Heaven! I come to carry you to the other bank, into eternal darkness, to heat and frost.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

And lo! an old man, hoary with ancient locks, draweth towards us in a boat, crying out: "Curse on you, sinful souls! Never hope to see the sky! I am coming to ferry you to the other shore, into the darkness that is for ever, into flame and into frost."
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

And lo! towards us coming in a vessel
An old man, whom his ancient locks made hoary,
Crying out : "Woe to you, ye souls unrighteous;
Cherish not hope of ever seeing heaven;
Unto the other bank I come to take you,
To heat and frost, in the eternal darkness."
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

And lo, coming towards us in a boat, an old man, his hair white with age, crying: "Woe to you, wicked souls, hope not ever to see the sky. I am come to bring you to the other bank, into the eternal shades, into fire and frost."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

And toward us lo! arriving in a boat
An Ancient, white with hair upon him old,
Crying, "Woe to you, ye spirits misbegot!
Hope not that heaven ye ever shall behold.
I come to carry you to yon shore, and lead
Into the eternal darkness, heat and cold."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

When from the far bank lo!
A boat shot forth, whose white-haired boatman old
Bawled as he came: "Woe to the wicked! Woe!
Never you hope to look on Heaven -- behold!
I come to ferry you hence across the tide
To endless night, fierce fires and shramming cold."
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

And behold, an old man, his hair white with age, coming towards us in a boat and shouting, "Woe to you, wicked souls! Do not hope to see Heaven ever! I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and cold."
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

And suddenly, coming towards us in a boat,
a man of years who ancient hair was white
screamed at us, "Woe to you, perverted souls!
Give up all hope of every seeing heaven:
I come to lead you to the other shore,
into eternal darkness, ice and fire."
[tr. Musa (1971)]

And here, advancing toward us, in a boat,
an aged man -- his hair was white with years --
was shouting: "Woe to you, corrupted souls!
Forget your hope of ever seeing Heaven:
I come to lead you to the other shore,
to the eternal dark, to fire and frost."
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

And then, there came towards us in a boat
An old man who was white with brittle hair,
Calling out: "Woe to you, perverse spirits!
You need not hope that you will ever see heaven;
I have come to take you to the other side,
Into eternal darkness, fire and ice."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

Then, at the river -- an old man in a boat:
White-haired, as he drew closer, shouting at us,
"Woe to you, wicked souls! Give up the thought
Of Heaven! I come to ferry you across
Into eternal dark on the opposite side,
Into fire and ice!"
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 67ff]

And behold coming toward us in a boat an old man, white with the hairs of age, crying, "Woe to you, wicked souls!
Never hope to see the sky: I come to lead you to the other shore, to the eternal shadows, to heat and freezing."
[tr. Durling (1996)]

And see, an old man, with white hoary locks, came towards us in a boat, shouting: "Woe to you, wicked spirits! Never hope to see heaven: I come to carry you to the other shore, into eternal darkness, into fire and ice."
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Then lo! as we approached the place, a boat
materialized, manned by a hoary boatman.
"Woe to ye!" he roared, "abandon hope!
I come to lead you to the dark dominion
of the other shore: into eternal shades of ice and fire,
where no pain is forgotten."
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Look now! Towards us in a boat there came
an old man, yelling, hair all white and aged,
"Degenerates! Your fate is sealed! Cry woe!
Don't hope you'll ever see the skies again!
I'm here to lead you to the farther shore,
into eternal shadow, heat and chill."
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

And now, coming toward us in a boat,
an old man, his hair white with age, cried out:
"Woe unto you, you wicked souls,
give up all hope of ever seeing Heaven.
I come to take you to the other shore,
into eternal darkness, into heat and chill."
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

And suddenly a boat, and an old man in it,
Came gliding through the misty air, approaching
The shore. "Ah!" he shouted, "All you wicked
Souls! Don't wish for a Heaven you have no hope
Of ever seeing! I'm here to take you over
The river, to eternal darkness, to fire and cold."
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

Where suddenly an old man in a boat
Headed towards us, tossing his white hair
As he cried, "Woe to you and to your souls!
Give up your hopes of Heaven! I have come
To take you to the other side. Hot coals
And ice await, to brand you and benumb
In everlasting shadow."
[tr. James (2013), l. 114ff]

Loud Lamentations were not heard from thence,
But heavy Sighs which trembled through the air:
From th' anguish these of Mind, not Body, came
Of many Infants, Women, and of Men.
You do not ask me, my kind Master said,
What are these Spirits in this place you see;
This you should know before we farther pass.
These have not sinn'd; and 'though they had reward
Deserved for their meritorious acts,
'Twould not avail, since they were ne'er baptiz'd;
For this in your Belief's the Gate of Faith.
They who have lived before Christ appear'd
Have not with proper Prayers ador'd their God.
And I myself, alas! am one of those.
For these defects, and not for any crime,
We're lost; and, without other punishment,
We live desiring, yet depriv'd of hope.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 35ff]

Now thro' the void and viewless shadows drear,
Short sighs, thick-coming, led the list'ning ear,
Trembling in murmurs low along the gale:
No pang is here, no tort'ring hour is known,
Their irrecoverable loss alone
Matrons, and fires, and tender babes bewail.
"And can the mournful train that here abide
Unnotic'd pass thee by?" the Poet cry'd,
"These were of the race renown'd of ancient time:
Unknown a Saviour, unador'd a God,
Their blind presumptuous course in reason's road
They still pursu'd, unconscious of a crime.
No bleeding ransom of their sins they knew
Nor from the fount regeneration drew
The sacred symbol of eternal joy!
In ceaseless languors now forlorn they dwell,
Not heirs of Heav'n, nor denizens of Hell,
And of their sad society am I!"
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 5-7]

Here, as mine ear could note, no plaint was heard
Except of sighs, that made th’ eternal air
Tremble, not caus’d by tortures, but from grief
Felt by those multitudes, many and vast,
Of men, women, and infants. Then to me
The gentle guide: “Inquir’st thou not what spirits
Are these, which thou beholdest? Ere thou pass
Farther, I would thou know, that these of sin
Were blameless; and if aught they merited,
It profits not, since baptism was not theirs,
The portal to thy faith. If they before
The Gospel liv’d, they serv’d not God aright;
And among such am I. For these defects,
And for no other evil, we are lost;
Only so far afflicted, that we live
Desiring without hope.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Here never aught of louder plaint or moan
Disturbed the listener's hearing; but the air
Trembled eternally with sighs alone.
The cause, a grief where torment hath no share,
Endured of crowded hostings not a few,
Men, women, infants, all assembled there.
And thus the good preceptor -- "Canst thou view
So vast a throng, nor ask of whom the spirits?
I will thou learn, ere we our path pursue.
These were not sinners; yet, whatever their merits.
Suffice not them, wanting baptismal rite.
That each partaker of thy faith inherits.
And if they rose before the Christian light.
Duly they honoured not their Maker's name;
But what these are, am I: our fates unite.
For such default, and not for deeper blame,
Heaven have we lost; yet this our only smart.
Our hope is not, our longing still the same."
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Here was no plaint, that could be heard, except of sighs, which caused the eternal air to tremble;
And this arose from the sadness, without torment, of the crowds that were many and great, both of children, and women and men.
The good Master said to me: "Thou askest not what spirits are these thou seest? I wish thee to know, before thou goest further,
that they sinned not; and though they have merit, it suffices not: for they had not Baptism, which is the portal of the faith that thou believest;
and seeing they were before Christianity, they worshipped not God aright; and of these am I myself.
For such defects, and for no other fault, are we lost; and only in so far afflicted, that without hope we live in desire."
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Here was no sound, to any listener's ear,
Of loud complaint, but frequent sighs of care,
Which made to tremble the eternal air.
It happened thus, from grief of torments void,
Possessing crowds beyond our sight and ken
Of infants, and of women, and of men.
The good master said, "You do not ask me
What are these spirits which you now descry --
Wouldst thou discover, ere we yet draw nigh?
These have not sinn'd, though merit they should have --
'Tis not enough, for baptism they have none,
A portion of the faith you also own:
They lived ere Christianity began;
The God of heaven adored not as they ought.
And of these here, I'm also in the fault
For these defects; for other evil none
Are lost, -- afflicted only thus so far:
Live in desire, but want hope's brightening star."
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

There as I listen'd I could hear no sound
Of plaint or moan, but rather that of sighs
Which tremulous did stir th' eternal air;
This came not from the martyrdom of pain
But from the dole of those, many and great,
Of children, and of women, and of men.
My kindly master said -- "Thou askest not
Who be these spirits which thou seest now?
Yet here we further go, be to thee known
They sinned not; yet no merit claim'd by them
Availeth aught, because they never knew
The Grace Baptismal, portal of they creed:
And if they liv'd before the day of Grace
They could not in right spirit worship God:
And of that number I myself am one.
For this default and for no other guilt
We are lost souls; afflicted only thus,
That ever hopeless we must still desire."
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

There, in so far as I had power to hear, ⁠
⁠Were lamentations none, but only sighs,
⁠That tremulous made the everlasting air.
And this arose from sorrow without torment,
⁠Which the crowds had, that many were and great,
⁠Of infants and of women and of men. ⁠
To me the Master good: "Thou dost not ask
⁠What spirits these, which thou beholdest, are?
⁠Now will I have thee know, ere thou go farther,
That they sinned not; and if they merit had,
'T is not enough, because they had not baptism, ⁠
⁠⁠Which is the portal of the Faith thou holdest;
And if they were before Christianity,
⁠⁠In the right manner they adored not God;
⁠⁠And among such as these am I myself.
For such defects, and not for other guilt,
⁠⁠Lost are we, and are only so far punished,
⁠⁠That without hope we live on in desire."
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Here, so far as listening went, lamentation was not, save of sighs which made the everlasting mist tremble. And this befel of woe without torments which the crowds had, that were many and great, both of infants and of women and of men. The good Master to me: 'Thou demandest not what spirits these are whom thou seest ? Now will I that thou know ere thou go further, that they did not sin; and if they have deserts, it suffices not; because they had not baptism, which is a part of the faith which thou believest. And if they were before Christianity, they adored not God duly; and of this sort am I myself. For such defects, not for other crime, we are lost; and we are harmed only in so far as we live without hope in longing.'
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Here, in as far as hearing is aware,
⁠Was no loud weeping, but a sound of sighs.
⁠Which ever trembled in the eternal air,
And these from sorrow without torments rise,
⁠Sorrow that holds the crowds both many and great,
⁠Men, women, children, of all age and size.
Turned my good master to me: "Dost thou wait
⁠To ask what souls are these thou seest here?
⁠I will that thou shouldst know at once their state.
These have not sinned, and if their acts were fair,
⁠'Twas not sufficient, since they baptism lacked,
⁠The gateway of the Faith which thou dost share.
And if they lived ere Christ's law was a fact.
⁠They did not in fit fashion God adore;
⁠And I myself amongst these last am wreckt.
For such deficiencies, and nothing more,
⁠Our penalty is fixed, the lost among,
⁠To yearn for ever on this hopeless shore.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Here, so far as could be heard, there was no plaint but that of sighs which made the eternal air to tremble: this came of the woe without torments felt by the crowds, which were many and great, of infants and of women and of men. The good Master to me, “Thou dost not ask what spirits are these that thou seest. Now I would have thee know, before thou goest farther, that they sinned not; and if they have merits it sufficeth not, because they had not baptism, which is part of the faith that thou believest; and if they were before Christianity, they did not duly worship God: and of such as these am I myself. Through such defects, and not through other guilt, are we lost, and only so far harmed that without hope we live in desire.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Here, so far as I could tell by listening, there was no wailing, but sighs only, making the air to tremble without ceasing; and this arose from the misery, albeit uncaused by torture, which the crowds felt, and they were many and great; babes and women and men. My gentle Master said to me: "Thou dost not ask what shades are these thou seest. I now would have thee know, or ever thou goest farther, that they have not sinned; and though they have good works to their account, it sufficeth not, for they knew not baptism, which is the gateway of the faith the which thou dost believe. And as they were before Christ's coming, they failed to worship God aright ; and of their number am I myself. For shortcomings such as these, and for no other fault, are we lost: and this our only punishment, that without hope we live in yearning.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Therein, so far as listening was of service,
⁠There was no lamentation, save of sighing,
⁠That made the eternal weight of air to quiver.
This came to pass from sorrow without torments.
⁠That the crowds had, which were both great and many.
⁠Of little children, and of men, and women.
To me the master kind: "Dost thou not ask me
⁠What spirits these are here, whom thou beholdest?
⁠Now I would have thee know, ere thou go further,
That they sinned not: and yet that they have merits
⁠Sufficeth not, because they had not baptism.
⁠Which is a portion of the faith thou holdest:
And, if they were before the Christian advent,
⁠They did not render unto God due worship.
⁠And I of such as these myself am also.
For such defects, and not for other forfeit,
⁠Are we among the lost, and only troubled
⁠At this, that without hope we live in longing.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

Here, so far as I could tell by listening, was no lamentation more than sighs which kept the air forever trembling; these came from grief without torments that was borne by the crowds, which were vast, of men and women and little children. The good Master said to me: "Does thou not ask what spirits are these thou seest? I would have the know, then, before thou goest farther, that they did not sin; but though they have merits it is not enough, for they had not baptism, which is the gateway of the faith thou holdest; and if they were here before Christianity they did not worship God aright, and of these I am one. For such defects, and not for any guilt, we are lost, and only so far afflicted that without hope we live in desire."
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

Here was no sound that the ear could catch of rue,
⁠Save only of sighs, that still as they complain
⁠Make the eternal air tremble anew.
And this rose form the sorrow, unracked by pain,
⁠That was in the great multitude below
⁠Of children and of women and of men.
The good Master to me: "Wouldst thou not know
⁠'What spirits are these thou seest and hearest grieve?
⁠I'd have thee learn before thou farther go,
These sinned not: but the merit that they achieve
⁠Helps not, since baptism was not theirs, the gate
⁠Of that faith, which was given thee to believe.
And if ere Christ they came, untimely in date,
⁠They worshipped not with right experience;
⁠And I myself am numbered in their state.
For such defect, and for no other offence,
⁠We are lost, and only in so far amerced
⁠That without hope we languish in suspense."
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

We heard no loud complaint, no crying there,
⁠No sound of grief except the sound of sighing
⁠Quivering for ever through the eternal air;
Grief, not for torment, but for loss undying,
⁠By women, men, and children sighed for so,
⁠Sorrowers thick-thronged, their sorrows multiplying.
Then my good guide: "Thou dost not ask me who
⁠These spirits are,” said he, “whom thou perceivest?
⁠Ere going further, I would have thee know
They sinned not; yet their merit lacked its chiefest
⁠Fulfilment, lacking baptism, which is
⁠The gateway to the faith which thou believest;
Or, living before Christendom, their knees
⁠Paid not aright those tributes that belong
⁠To God; and I myself am one of these.
For such defects alone -- no other wrong --
⁠We are lost; yet only by this grief offended:
⁠That, without hope, we ever live, and long.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

No tortured wailing rose to greet us here
⁠but sounds of sighing rose from every side,
⁠sending a tremor through the timeless air,
a grief breathed out of untormented sadness,
⁠the passive state of those who dwelled apart,
⁠men, women, children -- a dim and endless congress.
And the Master said to me: "You do not question
⁠what souls these are that suffer here before you?
⁠I wish you to know before you travel on
that these were sinless. And still their merits fail,
⁠for they lacked Baptism's grace, which is the door
⁠of the true faith you were born to. Their birth fell
before the age of the Christian mysteries,
⁠and so they did not worship God's Trinity
⁠in fullest duty. I am one of these.
For such defects are we lost, though spared the fire
⁠and suffering Hell in one affliction only:
⁠that without hope we live on in desire."
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

Here there was no plaint, that could be heard, except of sighs, which caused the eternal air to tremble; and this arose from the sadness, without torments, of the crowds that were many and great, both of children and of women and men. The good master said to me, “Do you not ask what spirits are these that you see ? Now, before you go farther, I will have you know that they did not sin; but if they have merit, that does not suffice, for they did not have baptism, which is the portal of the faith you hold; and if they were before Christianity, they did not worship God aright, and I myself am one of these. Because of these shortcomings, and for no other fault, we are lost, and only so far afflicted that without hope we live in longing.”
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

Here, for as much as hearing could discover,
⁠there was no outcry louder than the sighs
⁠that caused the everlasting air to tremble.
The sighs arose from sorrow without torments,
⁠out of the crowds -- the many multitudes --
⁠of infants and of women and of men.
The kindly master said: “Do you not ask
⁠who are these spirits whom you see before you?
⁠I'd have you know, before you go ahead,
they did not sin; and yet, though they have merits,
⁠that’s not enough, because they lacked baptism,
⁠the portal of the faith that you embrace.
And if they lived before Christianity,
⁠they did not worship God in fitting ways;
⁠and of such spirits I myself am one.
For these defects, and for no other evil,
⁠we now are lost and punished just with this:
⁠we have no hope and yet we live in longing.”
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

There, in so far as listening could tell me,
⁠The only lamentations were the sighs,
⁠Yet they made the eternal air tremble.
They came from the sadness, without any torment,
⁠Felt by the crowds -- there were many of them, and huge --
⁠Of infants and of men and of men.
The master said: "Are you not going to ask
⁠What sprits these are which you see in this place?
⁠I think you should know before you go on;
They have committed no sin, and if they have merits,
⁠That is not enough, because they are not baptized,
⁠Which all must be, to enter the faith which is yours.
And if they lived before the Christian era,
⁠They did not adore God as he should be adored:
⁠And I am one of those in that position.
For these deficiencies, and no other fault,
⁠We are lost; there is no other penalty
⁠Than to live here without hope, but with desire."
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Here we encountered
No laments that we could hear -- except for sighs
That trembled the timeless air: they emanated
From the shadowy sadnesses, not agonies,
Of multitudes of children and women and men.
He said, "And don't you ask, what spirits are these?
Before you go on, I tell you: they did not sin:
If they have merit, it can't suffice without
Baptism, portal to the faith you maintain.
Some lived before the Christian faith, so that
They did not worship God aright -- and I
Am one of these. Through this, no other fault,
We are lost, afflicted only this one way:
That having no hope, we live in longing."
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 19ff]

⁠Here, as far as could be heard, there was no weeping except of sighs which caused the eternal air to tremble;
⁠these resulted from grief without torture, felt by the crowds, which were many and large, of infants and of women and of men.
⁠My good master to me: “You do not ask what spirits are these you see? Now I wish you to know, before you walk further,
⁠that they did not sin; and if they have merits, it is not enough, because they did not receive baptism, which is the gateway to the faith that you believe.
⁠And if they lived before Christianity, they did not adore God as was needful: and of this kind am I myself.
⁠Because of such defects, not for any other wickedness, we are lost, and only so far harmed that without hope we live in desire.”
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Here there was no sound to be heard, except the sighing, that made the eternal air tremble, and it came from the sorrow of the vast and varied crowds of children, of women, and of men, free of torment. The good Master said to me: ‘You do not demand to know who these spirits are that you see. I want you to learn, before you go further, that they had no sin, yet, though they have worth, it is not sufficient, because they were not baptised, and baptism is the gateway to the faith that you believe in. Since they lived before Christianity, they did not worship God correctly, and I myself am one of them. For this defect, and for no other fault, we are lost, and we are only tormented, in that without hope we live in desire.’
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Here, there was no pandemonium of tortured groans;
only interminable sighs, which trembled the air
with a murderous hum; and this arose
from all the sadnesses, albeit painless,
of the multitude of men and women,
and children of every size.
Then he to me: "Why don't you ask me who these spirits are?
Before you go much further
on, I'd like it to be understood that they are
innocent of sin; however,
lacking Baptism, they could not claim
its saving grace, and thus are doomed forever;
living, as they did, before Christ came
they did not pay the Lord his due respect;
and I myself am classed as one of them.
For these faults, not for any other defect,
are we lost; our only pain
is hopeless, unfulfilled desire. These are the facts.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Here, there was no pandemonium of tortured groans; only interminable sighs, which trembled the air with a murmurous hum; and this arose from all the sadnesses, albeit painless, of the multitude of men and women, and children of every size. Then he to me: "Why don't you ask me who these spirits are? Before you go much further on, I'd like it to be understood that they are innocent of sin; however, lacking Baptism, they could not claim its saving grace, and thus are doomed forever; living, as they did, before Christ came, they did not pay the Lord his due respect; and I myself am classed as one of them. For these faults, not for any other defect, are we lost; our only pain is hopeless, unfulfilled desire. These are the facts.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Here in the dark (where only hearing told)
⁠there were no tears, no weeping, only sighs
⁠that caused a trembling in the eternal air --
sighs drawn from sorrowing, although no pain.
⁠This weighs on all of them, those multitudes
⁠of speechless children, women and full-grown men.
'You do not ask,' my teacher in his goodness said,
⁠'who all these spirits are that you see here?
⁠Do not, I mean, go further till you know:
these never sinned. And some attained to merit.
⁠But merit falls far short. None was baptized.
⁠None passed the gate, in your belief, to faith.
They lived before the Christian age began.
⁠They paid no reverence, as was due to God.
⁠And in this number I myself am one.
For such deficiencies, no other crime,
⁠we all are lost yet only suffer harm
⁠through living in desire, but hopelessly.'
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

Here, as far as I could tell by listening,
⁠was no lamentation other than the sighs
⁠that kept the air forever trembling.
These came from grief without torment
⁠borne by vast crowds
⁠of men, and women, and little children.
My master began: 'You do not ask about
⁠the souls you see? I want you to know,
⁠before you venture farther,
they did not sin. Though they have merit,
⁠that is not enough, for they were unbaptized,
⁠denied the gateway to the faith that you profess.
And if they lived before the Christians lived,
⁠they did not worship God aright.
⁠And among these I am one.
For such defects, and for no other fault,
⁠we are lost, and afflicted but in this,
⁠that without hope we live in longing.'
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

And here there was no weeping; the only signs
⁠Of sorrow I heard were sighs that caused a gentle
⁠Trembling, stirring eternal air, yet rising
Not from tortured pain or punishment
⁠But only because there were so many, men
⁠And women and children. My Master asked this question
Of me: "Don't you mean to inquire, again,
⁠Who and what are the spirits you see in here?
⁠I want you to know, before you take another step,
These are not sinners; no matter what they deserve ⁠It can't be enough, for none have been baptized -- ⁠The gateway to Heaven in your faith's clearest terms. All those born before the coming of Christ
⁠Cannot be Christians, worshipping god as He
⁠Requires, and one of many such men am I.
These imperfections, and nothing more, no crimes,
⁠Bar us from Paradise, not punished, not hurt.
⁠We have no hope, we live for our great desire.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠To the extent
That I could hear at all, all cries were sighs.
The air without end shook to the lament
Not just of men and women: with surprise
I saw young children too. Why were they sent?
I thought, and once again my Master saw
Into my mind, and said: “You do not ask
Who these ones are, why here, and by what law?
I'll tell you, before we resume our task,
Of pain without a sin. But though they be
Ever so virtuous, no unbaptized
Souls are exempted from this penalty,
And if they lived before His Son, they prized
God insufficiently. And I was one
Of those. For such defects, and for no crime
More grave, we're lost: for something left undone
We're doomed to live without hope for all time.”
[tr. James (2013), l. 31ff]

Those who such torments suffered, I learnt,
Were condemn'd to them for their carnal Sins,
Their reason by their Passion being subdued.
And as the Birds, who at the first approach
Of cold, take wing, and gather in thick clouds,
So does the Storm these wretched Spirits drive,
From 'bove, below, and ev'ry side around.
They have no hope of ever being releas'd:
And e'en of lighter punishments despair.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 32ff]

These were the hapless slaves of lawless love,
Soft pleasure's vot'ries in the world above,
Who the still voice of reason held in scorn;
And as a flight of starlings wing their way,
Riding the wintry blast in long array,
The phantoms fleet, in airy tumult borne.
Aloft we saw the moody revel ride,
Then, in long eddies, like the swallowing tide,
With its full freight the hurricane descends:
Around the sinner sweep, above, below,
Nor respite of their cares rest they, nor refuge know
From the resistless storm that never ends.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 8-9]

I understood that to this torment sad
The carnal sinners are condemn'd, in whom
Reason by lust is sway'd. As in large troops
And multitudinous, when winter reigns,
The starlings on their wings are borne abroad;
So bears the tyrannous gust those evil souls.
On this side and on that, above, below,
It drives them: hope of rest to solace them
Is none, nor e'en of milder pang.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Then understood I of that woe's intent,
How framed with sinners in the flesh to deal
Who to their passion have their reason bent.
And like as starlings in their aery wheel
Some winter's day float wide upon the wing.
So doth those guilty souls the whirlwind's reel
Now up, now down, now this, now that way fling;
Nor aught to comfort them may soothing hope.
If not of rest, of milder sufferance bring.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

I learnt that to such torment [are] doomed the carnal sinners, who subject reason to lust.
And as their wings bear along the starlings, at the cold season, in large and crowded troop: so that blast, the evil spirits;
hither, thither, down, up, it leads them. No hope ever comforts them, not of rest, but even of less pain.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Of torment such as this, I understood,
Were carnal sinners made to drink their fill,
Their reason who subject unto their will.
And as the starlings spread their wings aloft
In the cold time, in long and crowded flock,
Such are the evil spirits to the shock:
From here to there, from low to high, it leads;
Nor hope nor comfort in their breast remain,
Not of a pause, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

Then I perceiv'd this torment was to those
Whose condemnation was for carnal sins,
Who made their reason subject to their lusts.
As starlings in their wingèd strength are borne
In winter season, flocking wide and deep;
So are the wicked spirits by this blast
Upwards and downwards, hither, thither swept,
Having to comfort them of no hope of rest
From their great woe, nor e'en of lesser pain.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

I understood that unto such a torment
The carnal malefactors were condemned,
Who reason subjugate to appetite.
And as the wings of starlings bear them on
In the cold season in large band and full,
So doth that blast the spirits maledict;
It hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them;
No hope doth comfort them forevermore,
Not of repose, but even of lesser pain.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

I was aware that to a torment thus fashioned are condemned the carnal sinners who made their reason subject to their inclination. And as their wings bear away the starlings in the cold season, in a broad and thick flock, so did that blast the evil spirits. On this side, on that, up and down it sways them; no hope ever comforts them, I say not of rest, but of a lesser penalty.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Then did I understand that this was pain
Reserved for those who sin in carnal things,
And over reason their desires maintain.
And, like the summer starlings, stretch their wings
In the cold time, in large and ample train,
So that wild wind those evil spirits swings
Hither and thither, up and down again;
No hope can comfort them of far repose
For evermore, nor even of lesser pain.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

I understood that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to appetite. And as their wings bear along the starlings in the cold season in a troop large and full, so that blast the evil spirits; hither, thither, down, up it carries them; no hope ever comforts them, not of repose, but even of less pain.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

I came to know that to tortures of such a kind were doomed sinners in the flesh, who make their better judg- ment the thrall of lust. And as in winter time starlings are borne on their wings, in large and crowded flock; even so beareth this blast these sinful spirits. Hither and thither, high and low, it whirleth them, nor ever cometh hope of any rest to cheer them, nor even of lesser punishment.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

I understood that unto such like torment
Are damned eternally the carnal sinners.
Who make their reason subject to their passions.
And as their pinions bear along the starlings,
In the chill time, in wide and full battahon,
In such wise doth that blast the wicked spirits:
Hither and thither, up and down, it bears them;
Nor any hope encourages them ever.
Not to say hope of rest, but of less torment.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners who subject reason to desire. As in the cold season their wings bear the starlings along in a broad, dense flock, so does that blast the wicked spirits. Hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them; no hope ever comforts them, not to say of rest, but of less pain.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

I learnt that in such restless violence blown
This punishment the carnal sinners share
Whose reason by desire was over thrown.
And as their beating wings the starlings bear
At the cold season, in broad, flocking flight,
So those corrupted spirits were rapt in air
To and fro, down, up, driven in helpless plight
Comforted by no hope ever to lie
At rest, nor even to bear a pain more light.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

Into this torment carnal sinners are thrust,
So I was told -- the sinners who make their reason
Bond thrall under the yoke of their lust.
Like as the starlings wheel in the wintry season
In wide and clustering flocks wing-borne, wind-borne,
Even so they go, the souls who did this treason,
Hither and thither, and up and down, outworn,
Hopeless of any rest -- rest, did I say?
Of the least minishing of their pangs forlorn.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

I learned that to such torment are condemned the carnal sinners, who subject reason to desire.
And as their wings bear the starlings along in the cold season, in wide, dense flocks, so does that blast the sinful spirits; hither, thither, downward, upward, it drives them. No hope of less pain, not to say of rest, ever comforts them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

I learned that to this place of punishment
all those who sin in lust have been condemned,
those who make reason slave to appetite;
and as the wings of starlings in the winter
bear them along in wide-spread crowded flocks,
so does that wind propel the evil spirits:
here, then there, and up and down, it sweeps them
forever, without hope to comfort them
(hope, not of taking rest, but of suffering less).
[tr. Musa (1971)]

I learned that those who undergo this torment
are damned because they sinned within the flesh,
subjecting reason to the rule of lust.
And as, in the cold season, starlings' wings
bear them along in broad and crowded ranks,
so does that blast bear on the guilty spirits:
now here, now there, now down, now up, it drives them.
There is no hope that ever comforts them --
no hope for rest and none for lesser pain.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

I understood it is to this torment
That are condemned those who sin in the flesh,
And let their reason give way to their wishes.
And, as starlings are carried on their wings
In the cold weather, in a vast wavering troop,
So that breath carries the unfortunate spirits:
It drives them here and there, now down, now up;
There is no hope ever to comfort them;
They cannot stop, or ever suffer less pain.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

I learned
They suffer here who sinned in carnal things --
Their reason mastered by desire, suborned.
As winter starlings ride on their wings
Form crowded flocks, so spirits dip and veer
Foundering in the wind's rough buffetings,
Upward or downward, driven here and there
With never ease from pain nor hope of rest.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 34ff]

I understood that to this torment were damned the carnal sinners, who subject their reason to their lust.
nd as their wings carry off the starlings in the cold season, in large, full flocks, so does that breath carry the evil spirits
here, there, down, up; no hope ever comforts them, not of lessened suffering, much less of rest.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust.
And, as their wings carry the starlings, in a vast, crowded flock, in the cold season, so that wind carries the wicked spirits, and leads them here and there, and up and down. No hope of rest, or even lesser torment, comforts them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

And then I learned such torments are incurred
by those who like to practice carnal sin,
when reason is by furtive lust ensnared.
As starlings, when the evenings draw in,
assemble in tremendous seething flocks,
so are those dark souls gathered by the wind,
and hurtled to and fro in random flecks
devoid of hope of rest, or rest from pain
to which they are eternally affixed.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Caught in this torment, as I understood,
were those who -- here condemned for carnal sin --
made reason bow to their instinctual bent.
As starlings on the wing in winter chills
are borne along in wide and teeming flocks,
so on these breathing gusts the evil souls.
This way and that and up and down they're borne.
Here is no hope of any comfort ever,
neither of respite nor of lesser pain.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

I understood that to such torment
the carnal sinners are condemned,
they who make reason subject to desire.
As, in cold weather, the wings of starlings
bear them up in wide, dense flocks,
so does that blast propel the wicked spirits.
Here and there, down and up, it drives them.
Never are they comforted by hope
of rest or even lesser punishment.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

I learned that sinners blown, tormented in bursting
Gales, are those condemned by acts of lust,
Which melt our reason down in desire and thirst.
Just as their wings, stretched wide, hold starlings up
In great, wide flocks fleeing freezing weather,
So those windstorms force the wicked souls
This way, that way, down and up together.
No hope can ever ease their pain, giver comfort;
They never rest, never suffer less.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

I learned this special kind of torment is reserved
For those whose ravenous appetite for carnal knowledge
Allowed lust to triumph over reason.
Like wings carry starlings off in crowded flocks
When the end of October hints at winter, so the wind
Carried these sinners: up, down, and at an angle.
In broad and compact masses.
What is there to comfort them? Neither more peace
Nor less pain, although they beg for both.
[tr. Bang (2012)]

I understood this was the punishment
For carnal sinners, who let appetite
Rule reason, and who, once drawn, are now sent --
Like winter starlings by their wings in flight --
Across the bleak sky in a broad, thick flock:
Here, there, now up, now down, the winds dictate
Their track. Small hope of pausing to take stock
Of whether anguish might not soon abate
At least a little, and no hope at all
Of peace.
[tr. James (2013), l. 47ff]

No greater grief assails us [...]
Than in unhappy hours to recollect
A better time.
[tr. Rogers (1782)]

Oh! how grievous to relate
Past joys, and tread again the paths of fate.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 23]

No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy, when mis'ry is at hand!
[tr. Cary (1814)]

No keener pang hath hell.
Than to recall, amid some deep distress,
Our happier time.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

There is no greater pain than to recall a happy time in wretchedness.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

There is no greater grief
Than to remember happiness in woe.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

No greater grief than this,
Mem'ry to hold of the past happy time
In misery.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

There is no greater sorrow
Than to be mindful of the happy time
In misery.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

No greater woe is there than to call to mind the happy time in your misery.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

There is no greater grief
Than to remember us of happy time
In misery.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

There is no greater woe than in misery to remember the happy time.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

No deeper sorrow is, than to recall a time of happiness, in misery's hour.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

There is no greater sorrow
Than to recall to memory times of gladness
In misery.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

There is no greater pain than to recall the happy time in misery.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

No grief surpasses this [...]
In the midst of misery to remember bliss.
[tr. Binyon (1943)]

The bitterest woe of woes
Is to remember in our wretchedness
Old happy times.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

The double grief of a lost bliss
is to recall its happy hour in pain.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), ll. 118-19]

There is no greater sorrow than to recall, in wretchedness, the happy time.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

There is no greater pain
than to remember, in our present grief,
past happiness!
[tr. Musa (1971)]

There is no greater sorrow
than thinking back upon a happy time
in misery.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

There is no greater sorrow
Than to think backwards to a happy time,
When one is miserable.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

No sadness
Is greater than in misery to rehearse
Memories of joy.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 107ff]

There is no greater pain than to remember the happy time in wretchedness.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

There is no greater pain, than to remember happy times in misery.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

There is no greater pain, I fear,
than to recall past joy in present hell.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

There is no sorrow greater
than, in times of misery, to hold at heart
the memory of happiness.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

There is no greater sorrow
than to recall our time of joy
in wretchedness.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

No sadness afflicts the heart
More than recalling, in times of utter disaster,
Sweetened days in which we knew no darkness.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

What's sadder than remembering
The happy past when you're feeling wretched?
[tr. Bang (2012)]

Together we, for pleasure, one day read
How strictly Lancelot was bound by love;
We, then alone, without suspicion were:
T'admire each other, often from the book
Our eyes were ta'en, and oft our colour chang'd;
That was the point of time which conqurer'd us,
When, reading that her captivating smile
Was by the Lover the adored kiss'd;
This, my Companion, always with me seen,
Fearful, and trembling, also kiss'd my mouth.
The Writer, Galeotto, nam;d the Book.
But from that day we never read in't more.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 113ff]

One day (a day I ever must deplore!)
The gentle youth, to spend a vacant hour,
To me the soft seducing story read,
Of Launcelot and fair Geneura's love,
While fascinating all the quiet grove
Fallacious Peace her snares around us spread.
Too much I found th' insidious volume charm,
And Paulo's mantling blushes rising warm;
Still as he read the guilty secret told:
Soon from the line his eyes began to stray;
Soon did my yielding looks my heart betray,
Nor needed words our wishes to unfold.
Eager to realize the story'd bless,
Trembling he snatch'd the half resented kiss,
To ill soon lesson'd by the pandar-page!
Vile pandar-page! it smooth'd the paths of shame.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 24-26]

One day
For our delight we read of Lancelot,
How him love thrall’d. Alone we were, and no
Suspicion near us. Ofttimes by that reading
Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue
Fled from our alter’d cheek. But at one point
Alone we fell. When of that smile we read,
The wished smile, rapturously kiss’d
By one so deep in love, then he, who ne’er
From me shall separate, at once my lips
All trembling kiss’d. The book and writer both
Were love’s purveyors. In its leaves that day
We read no more.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

'Twas on a day when we for pastime read
Of Lancelot, whom love ensnared to ruin:
We were alone, nor knew suspicious dread.
That lesson oft, the conscious look renewing,
Held us suspense, and turned our cheeks to white;
But one sole moment wrought for our undoing:
When of the kiss we read, from smile so bright.
So coveted, that such true-lover bore.
He, from my side who ne'er may disunite,
Kissed me upon the mouth, trembling all o'er.
The broker of our Vows, it was the lay,
And he who wrote -- that day we read no more.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

One day, for pastime, wwe read of Lancelot, how love restrained him; we were alone, and without all suspicion.
Several times that reading urged our eyes to meet, and changed the color of our faces; but one moment alone it was that overcame us.
When we read how the fond smile was kissed by such a lover, he, who shall never be divided from me,
kissed my mouth all trembling: the book, and he who wrote it, was a Galeotto; that day we read in it no farther.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

We were reading one day, for our delight,
In Lancilotto, bound in love so strict.
We were alone, and neither could suspect
Suspended were our eyes, and more than once,
In reading, and the visage colorless;
One point it was lone that conquered us.
When we read first of that -- the longed-for smile
At being kissed by one who loved so well;
Galeotti was the book -- he wrote it:
That Day we read not there any farther.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

One day we read, to pass a pleasant time,
How Lancelot was bound in chains of love;
Alone we were and no suspicion knew.
often we sigh'd; and as we read our eyes
Each other sought, the color fled our cheeks;
But we were vanquish'd by one point alone.
When we had read how the smile long desir'd
Was kiss'd by him who lov'd with such deep love,
This one, from me no more to be apart,
Trembling all over, kiss'd me on the mouth.
Galeotto was the writer and the book;
In it we read no further on that day.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

One day we reading were for our delight
⁠Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthrall.
⁠Alone we were and without any fear.
Full many a time our eyes together drew
⁠That reading, and drove the color from our faces;
⁠But one point only was it that o'ercame us.
Whenas we read of the much longed-for smile
⁠Being by such a noble lover kissed,
⁠This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided,
Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating.
⁠Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it.
⁠That day no farther did we read therein.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

We were reading one day, for delight, of Lancelot, how Love constrained him; alone were we, and without any suspicion. Many times did that reading impel our eyes, and change the hue of our visages; but one point only was it that overcame us. When we read that the wished-for smile was kissed by such a lover, this one who never from me shall be parted kissed me on the mouth all trembling. A Gallehault was the book, and he who wrote it. That day we read no further in it.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

We read one day for pleasure, in the song
Of Launcelot, how Love him captive made;
We were alone without one thought of wrong.
Many and many a time our eyes delayed
The reading, and our faces paled apart;
One point alone it was that us betrayed.
In reading of that worshipt smile o' the heart,
Kissed by such lover on her lips' red core.
This one, who never more from me must part,
Kissed me upon the mouth, trembling all o'er:
For us our Galeotto was that book;
That day we did not read it any more.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

We were reading one day, for delight, of Lancelot, how love constrained him. We were alone and without any suspicion. Many times that reading made us lift our eyes, and took the color from our faces, but only one point was that which overcame us. When we read of the longed-for smile being kissed by such a lover, this one, who never from me shall be divided, kissed my mouth all trembling. Galahaut was the book, and he who wrote it. That day we read in it no farther.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

We read one day, to while the hour, of Lancelot, how love enthralled him: we were alone, with never a thought of harm. And oft and oft that reading brought our eyes together and drave the colour to our cheeks ; but one point, only one, it was that overcame us. When that we came to read of how the smiling lips he loved were kissed by lover such as he, he that no more shall e'er be parted from me, kissed my mouth trembling through. Our Galahad was the book and he that penned it: that day we read in it no more.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

One day, by way of pastime, we were reading
Of Lancelot, how love in fetters held him:
We were alone, and without thought of danger.
Full often did that reading bring together
Our glances, and made colourless our visage;
But just one point was that which overcame us:
When as we read how that the smile much longed for
Was kissed by one so passionately loving,
He who from me shall never be divided
Kissed me upon the mouth, all, all a-quiver: --
A Galehalt was the book and he who wrote it: --
Upon that day we read therein no further.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

We read one day for pastime of Lancelot, how love constrained him. We were alone and had no misgiving. Many times that reading drew our eyes together and changed the color in our faces, but one point alone it was that mastered us; when we read that the longed-fro smile was kissed by so great a lover, he who never shall be parted from me, all trembling, kissed my mouth. A Galeotto was the book and he that wrote it; that day we read in it no farther.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

One day we read for pastime how in thrall
Lord Lancelot lay to love, who loved the Queen;
We were alone -- we thought no harm at all.
As we read on, our eyes met now and then,
And to our cheeks the changing color started,
But just one moment overcame us -- when
We read of the smile, desired of lips long-thwarted,
Such smile, by such a lover kissed away,
He that may never more from me be parted
Trembling all over, kissed my mouth. I say
The book was Galleot, Galleot the complying
Ribald who wrote; we read no more that day.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

One day for dalliance we read the rhyme
of Lancelot, how love had mastered him.
We were alone with innocence and dim time.
Pause after pause that high old story drew
our eyes together while we blushed and paled;
but it was one soft passage overthrew
our caution and our hearts. For when we read
how her fond smile was kissed by such a lover,
he who is one with me alive and dead
breathed on my lips the tremor of his kiss.
That book, and he who wrote it, was a pander.
That day we read no further.
[tr. Ciardi (1954), l. 124ff]

One day, for pastime, we reqd of Lancelot, how love constrained him; we were alone, suspecting nothing. Several times that reading urged our eyes to meet and too the color from our faces, but one moment alone it was that overcame us. When we read how the longed-for smile was kissed by so great a lover, this one, who never shll be parted from me, kissed my mouth all trembling. A Gallehault was the book and he who wrote it; that day we read no farther in it.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

One day we read, to pass the time away,
of Lancelot, how he had fallen in love;
we were alone, innocent of suspicion.
Time and again our eyes were brought together
by the book we read; our faces flushed and paled.
To the moment of one line alone we yielded:
it was when we read about those longed-for lips
now being kissed by such a famous lover,
that this one (who shall never leave my side)
then kissed my mouth, and trembled as he did.
The book and its author was our galehot!
That day we read no further.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

One day, to pass the time away, we read
of Lancelot -- how love had overcome him.
We were alone, and we suspected nothing.
And time and time again that reading led
our eyes to meet, and made our faces pale,
and yet one point alone defeated us.
When we had read how the desired smile
was kissed by one who was so true a lover,
this one, who never shall be parted from me,
while all his body trembled, kissed my mouth.
A Gallehault indeed, that book and he
who wrote it, too; that day we read no more.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

One day, when we were reading, for distraction,
How Lancelot was overcome by love --
We were alone, without any suspicion;
Several times, what we were reading forced
Our eyes to meet, and then we changed color:
But one page only was more than we could bear.
When we read how that smile, so much desired,
Was kissed by such a lover, in the book,
He, who will never be divided from me,
Kissed my mouth, he was trembling as he did so;
The book, the writer played the part of Galahalt:
That day we got no further with our reading.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

One day, for pleasure,
We read of Lancelot, by love constrained:
Alone, suspecting nothing, at our leisure.
Sometimes at what we read our glances joined,
Looking from the book each to the other's eyes,
And then the color in our faces drained.
But one particular moment alone it was
Defeated us: the longed-for smile, it said,
Was kissed by that most noble lover: at this,
This one, who now will never leave my side,
Kissed my mouth, trembling. A Galeotto, that book!
And so was he who wrote it; that day we read
No further.
[tr. Pinsky (1994), l. 112ff]

We were reading one day, for pleasure, of Lancelot, how Love beset him; we were alone and without any suspicion.
Many times that reading drove our eyes together and turned our faces pale; but one point alone was the one that overpowered us.
When we read that the yearned-for smile was kissed by so great a lover, he, who will never be separated from me,
kissed my mouth all trembling. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it: that day we read there no further.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

We read, one day, to our delight, of Lancelot and how love constrained him: we were alone and without suspicion. Often those words urged our eyes to meet, and coloured our cheeks, but it was a single moment that undid us. When we read how that lover kissed the beloved smile, he who will never be separated from me, kissed my mouth all trembling. That book was a Galeotto, a pandar, and he who wrote it: that day we read no more.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

One day, to pass the time, we read of
Lancelot, who loved illicitly.
Just the two of us; we had not thought of what, as yet, was not.
From time to time that reading urged our eyes to meet.
and made our faces flush and pale,
but one point in the story changed our lives;
for when we read of how the longed-for smile
was kissed by such a noble knight,
the one who for eternity is by my side all trembling
kissed my trembling mouth.
The man who wrote this was a Galeotto; so was the book.
That day the rest of it remained unscanned.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

One day we read together for pure joy
how Lancelot was taken in Love's palm.
We were alone. We knew no suspicion.
Time after time, the words we read would lift
our eyes and drawn all color from our faces.
A single point, however, vanquished us.
For when at last we read the longed-for smile
of Guinevere -- at last her lover kissed --
he, who from me will never now depart,
touched his kiss, trembling to my open mouth.
This book was Galehault -- pander-penned, the pimp!
That day we read no further down those lines.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

One day, to pass the time in pleasure,
we read of Lancelot, how love enthralled him.
We were alone, without the least misgiving.
More than once that reading made our eyes meet
and drained the color from our faces.
Still, it was a single instant overcame us:
When we read how the longed-for smile
was kissed by so renowned a lover, this man,
who never shall be parted from me,
all trembling, kissed me on my mouth.
A Galeotto was the book and he that wrote it.
That day we read in it no further.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

One day we read the story of Lancelot
And how his love attacked and held him tight.
We were alone and unaware of our thoughts.
More than once the story forced our eyes
To meet, and as we looked our faces turned pale,
But just one single moment hung and decided
Us. We read how a smile we longed for stayed
On her lips until the greatest of lovers kissed them,
And then this man, who cannot be taken away
From me, kissed my mouth, his body trembling.
A famous go-between had written that tale.
That day, our time for reading suddenly ended.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

One day, to amuse ourselves, we were reading
The tales of love-struck Lancelot; we were all alone,
And naively unaware of what could happen.
More than once, while reading, we looked up
And saw the other looking back. We'd blush, then pale,
Then look down again. Until a moment did us in.
We were reading about the longed-for kiss
The great lover gives his Guinevere, when that one
From whom I'll now never be parted,
Trembling, kissed my lips.
That author and his book played the part
Of Gallehault. We read no more that day.
[tr. Bang (2012)]

Reading together one day for delight
Or Lancelot, caught up in Love's sweet snare,
We were alone, with no thought of what might
Occur to us, although we stopped to stare
Sometimes at what we read, and even paled.
But then the moment came we turned a page
And all our powers of resistance failed:
When we read of that great knight in a rage
To kiss the smile he so desired. Paolo,
This one so quiet now, made my mouth still --
Which, loosened by those words, had trembled so --
With his mouth. And right then we lost the will --
For Love can will will's loss, as well you know --
To read on. But let that man take a bow
Who wrote the book we called our Galahad,
The reason nothing can divide us now.
[tr. James (2013), l. 149ff]

Cerb'rus, a beast implacable and fierce,
Incessant's barking with his triple throat
At the poor wretches who are here confin'd.
His eyes are fiery read, his greasy Beard
Is black and nasty, and his Belly's swoln.
He the Sprites scratches with his hooked claws,
Flays off their skins, and into quarters tears.
[tr. Rogers (1782), l. 12ff]

Hell's bloodhound there his triple form extends.
And ever and anon the savage rends
Some wand'ring wretch, and dyes his fangs in gore;
His flaming eyes the troubled deep survey.
Loud gnash his teeth and hold the damn'd at bay,
Whose captive bands in vain his rage deplore.
[tr. Boyd (1802), st. 3]

Cerberus, cruel monster, fierce and strange,
Through his wide threefold throat barks as a dog
Over the multitude immers’d beneath.
His eyes glare crimson, black his unctuous beard,
His belly large, and claw’d the hands, with which
He tears the spirits, flays them, and their limbs
Piecemeal disparts.
[tr. Cary (1814)]

Cerberus, a ruthless beast of uncouth mould,
Barks hell-hound like, with triple gorge and grim,
O'er those whom yonder slough engulphed doth hold.
Red are his eyes, black and of greasy trim
His beard, and huge his paunch ; his clawed hands quell
The mangled sprites; he flays, and limb from limb
Rends them.
[tr. Dayman (1843)]

Cerberus, a monster fierce and strange, with three throats, barks dog-like over those that are immersed in it.
His eyes are red, his beard [greasy] and black, his belly wide, and clawed his hands; he clutches the spirits, flalys, and piecemeal rends them.
[tr. Carlyle (1849)]

Cerberus -- wild beast, cruel, monstrous --
While as three throats the dog of famine urge,
To bark o'er those the waters thus submerge:
His eyes vermilion, unctuous beard and black;
His belly large, and claws upon each hand --
Cuts, flays, and quarters spirits at command.
[tr. Bannerman (1850)]

The monster Cerberus, cruel, fierce and strange,
Barks like a dog from out his triple throat
over the multitude sumergèd there.
With eyes vermilion, black and filthy beard,
With belly large, with sharp and piercing claws
He tears those spirits, flays, dismembers them.
[tr. Johnston (1867)]

Cerberus, monster cruel and uncouth,
⁠With his three gullets like a dog is barking
⁠Over the people that are there submerged. ⁠
Red eyes he has, and unctuous beard and black,
⁠And belly large, and armed with claws his hands;
⁠He rends the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Longfellow (1867)]

Cerberus, beast cruel and uncouth, with three throats barks in dog-wise over the folk that there is submerged. Scarlet eyes has he, and his beard greasy and black, and his belly large, and his paws armed with nails. He claws the spirits, mouths them and tears them up.
[tr. Butler (1885)]

Wild Cerberus, of twofold nature rare.
With three throats hurleth out the doglike bark
Upon the people that are cowering there.
His eyes are red, his greasy beard is dark.
His belly large and fingers armed with nails;
He tears, and flays, and rends the spirits stark.
[tr. Minchin (1885)]

Cerberus, a beast cruel and monstrous, with three throats barks doglike above the people that are here submerged. He has vermilion eyes, and a greasy and black beard, and a big belly, and hands armed with claws: he tears the spirits, flays them, and rends them.
[tr. Norton (1892)]

Cerberus, the pitiless and outlandish beast, barks in dog-like fashion through triple throat above the souls that lie immersed there. Red are the eyes he hath, his beard foul and black, his belly gross, and his paws armed with talons. He claws the shades, he flayeth and he teareth them.
[tr. Sullivan (1893)]

Cerberus, cruel and misshapen monster,
Barketh with triple throat in doglike fashion
Over the folk which in that place is sunken.
Vermilion eyes he hath, beard black and greasy.
And belly wide, and hands arrayed with talons.
The spirits he doth scratch, and flay and quarter.
[tr. Griffith (1908)]

Cerberus, a beast fierce and hideous, with three throats barks like a dog over the people that are immersed there; he has red eyes, a beard greasy and black, a great belly, and clawed hands, and he scars and flays and rends the spirits.
[tr. Sinclair (1939)]

Cerberus, the cruel, misshapen monster, there
Bays in his triple gullet and doglike growls
Over the wallowing shades; his eyeballs glare
A bloodshot crimson, and his bearded jowls
Are greasy and black; pot-bellied, talon-heeled,
He clutches and flays and rips and rends the souls.
[tr. Sayers (1949)]

Here monstrous Cerberus, the ravening beast,
howls through his triple throats like a mad dog
over the spirits sunk in that foul paste.
His eyes are red, his beard is greased with phlegm,
His belly is swollen, and his hands are claws
to rip the wretches and flay and mangle them.
[tr. Ciardi (1954)]

Cerberus, monstrous beast and cruel, with three throats barks doglike over the people who are here submerged. His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly wide and his hands taloned; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Singleton (1970)]

Cerberus, a ruthless and fantastic beast,
with all three throats howls out his dog-like sounds
above the drowning sinners of this place.
His eyes are red, his beard is slobbered black,
his belly swollen, and he has claws for hands;
he rips the spirits, flays and mangles them.
[tr. Musa (1971)]

Over the souls of those submerged beneath
that mess, is an outlandish, vicious beast,
his three throats barking, doglike: Cerberus.
His eyes are blood red; greasy, black, his beard;
his belly bulges, and his hands are claws;
his talons tear and flay and rend the shades.
[tr. Mandelbaum (1980)]

Cerberus, a cruel and outlandish beast,
Barks like a dog, from his three throats, at those
Who, under that downpour, are there submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black,
His belly huge, and his fingers are clawed.
He scratches the spirits, skins them, pulls them to bits.
[tr. Sisson (1981)]

Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous and cruel,
Barks doglike at the souls immersed here, louder
For his triple throat. His eyes are red, his beard
Grease-black, he has the belly of a meat-feeder
And talons on his hands: he claws the horde
Of spirits, he flays and quarters them in the rain.
[tr. Pinsky (1994)]

Cerberus, cruel, monstrous beast, with three throats barks doglike over the people submerged there.
His eyes are red, his beard greasy and black, his belly large, and his hands have talons; he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Durling (1996)]

Cerberus, the fierce and strange monster, triple-throated, barks dog-like over the people submerged in it. His eyes are crimson, his beard is foul and black, his belly vast, and his limbs are clawed: he snatches the spirits, flays, and quarters them.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

Here Cerberus conducts his strange assize:
with all three throats he barks and slabbers
at the muck-bound prisoners he triple-tries.
His eyes are red, his jowls black, his belly fat;
he takes each soul and skins it with his claws
then rips it into little bits thereat.
[tr. Carson (2002)]

Cerberus, weird and monstrously cruel,
barks from his triple throats in cur-like yowls
over the heads of those who lie here, drowned.
His eyes vermilion, beard a greasy black,
his belly broad, his fingers all sharp-nailed,
he mauls and skins, then hacks in four, these souls.
[tr. Kirkpatrick (2006)]

Cerberus, fierce and monstrous beast,
barks from three gullets like a dog
over the people underneath that muck.
His eyes are red, his beard a greasy black,
his belly swollen. With his taloned hands
he claws the spirits, flays and quarters them.
[tr. Hollander/Hollander (2007)]

Three-headed Cerberus, monstrous beast, roams here;
A cruel creature who barks, dog-like, out
Of each of his mouths, at people half-drowned, submerged.
His eyes are red, his beard is black and foul,
His belly broad, there are talons on his hands;
He claws the spirits, rips at their skin, bites holes.
[tr. Raffel (2010)]

Savage and bestial Cerberus, three-headed freak,
Barks like a Doberman -- through each of his three throats --
Over those who are forced to wallow in the slop.
Red eyes, filthy bilious whiskers, swollen belly;
With his claws hge excoriates the ghosts --
Then rips their skin off and quarters them.
[tr. Bang (2012)]

The people stuck in it have Cerberus
To guard them. Overhead, that creature shrieks
In anger with three mouths, each hideous
As a mad dog's. Beards greasy black, eyes red,
Big belly, fingers well supplied with nails,
Hed scores and scrapes and tears them to a shred.
[tr. James (2013), l. 14ff]