Inferno
The First Circle, Limbo: Virtuous Pagans and the Unbaptized. The Four Poets, Homer, Horace, Ovid, and Lucan. The Noble Castle of Philosophy.
A heavy thunder broke the deep sleep
within my head, so that I started up
like someone forced awake.
I moved my rested eyes all around,
rising upright, and gazed steadily
to recognize where I was.
It is true that I found myself standing at the edge
of the abyss of sorrow,
where infinite cries of anguish
gather like thunder.
Dark it was, profound and clouded,
so that when I strained my eyes
to pierce its depths,
I could make out nothing at all.
"Now we descend into the sightless world,"
my guide began, his face gone pale.
"I will go first, and you will follow."
Seeing his color drain away, I said:
"How can I go on if you're afraid—
you who have always been my comfort
when fear overtakes me?"
He answered: "The anguish of the people
trapped below paints my face
with the compassion you mistake for terror.
Come—the long journey calls us forward."
So he entered, and led me
into that first circle
surrounding the abyss.
Here, from what I could hear,
there were no wails of pain,
only sighs that made
the eternal air tremble.
This came from sorrow without torment,
felt by crowds—vast and numberless—
of children, women, and men.
My good teacher said: "You don't ask
what souls these are that you see?
I want you to know, before we go further,
that these committed no sin.
Though they had merit,
it wasn't enough—they lacked baptism,
the gateway to the faith you hold.
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LIMBO—THE INNOCENT SOULS
“it wasn't enough—they lacked baptism, / the gateway to the faith you hold.”
And those who lived before Christ
did not worship God properly.
I myself am among them.
For this failing alone, not other sins,
we are lost, punished only
by living without hope in endless longing."
Great sorrow seized my heart
when I heard this,
knowing that people of great worth
were held suspended in this limbo.
"Tell me, Master, tell me, Lord,"
I began, wanting to be certain
of the faith that conquers every doubt,
"did anyone ever leave this place
through his own merit or another's
and find blessedness afterward?"
Understanding my hidden meaning,
he replied: "I was new to this place
when I saw a Mighty One arrive,
crowned with the sign of victory.
He drew out the shade of our First Father,
Abel his son, and Noah,
Moses the lawgiver, obedient Abraham,
King David, Israel with his father and sons,
and Rachel, for whom Jacob labored so long,
and many others—he made them all blessed.
Know that before these,
no human souls were ever saved."
We didn't stop walking as he spoke
but kept moving through the wood—
the wood, I call it, of thronging spirits.
We hadn't gone very far from the summit
when I saw a fire
conquering a hemisphere of darkness.
We were still some distance away,
but close enough that I could see
people of honor occupied that place.
"O you who honor every art and science,
who are these that command such respect
they're set apart from all the rest?"
He answered: "Their noble reputation,
which echoes in your world above,
wins Heaven's grace, advancing them here."
Then I heard a voice cry out:
"Honor the supreme Poet!
His shade returns—the one who had departed."
After the voice fell silent,
I saw four great souls approaching us,
their faces neither sad nor joyful.
My gracious teacher began:
"See him with the sword in his hand,
walking before the other three as their lord.
That is Homer, sovereign among poets.
Next comes Horace the satirist,
Ovid third, and Lucan last.
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LIMBO—POETS AND HEROES
“walking before the other three as their lord. / That is Homer, sovereign among poets. / Next comes Horace the satirist,”
Since each shares with me
the name that single voice proclaimed,
they honor me, and rightly so."
I watched the noble school assemble
around that master of the highest song
who soars above all others like an eagle.
After they spoke together briefly,
they turned to me with welcoming gestures,
which made my teacher smile.
They honored me still more
by making me one of their company—
I became the sixth among such brilliance.
We walked together toward the light,
speaking of things
better left unspoken here.
We came to the foot of a noble castle
surrounded seven times by high walls
and defended by a lovely stream.
We crossed over as if on solid ground.
Through seven gates I entered with these sages
into a meadow of fresh grass.
People were there with grave, slow-moving eyes,
great authority in their bearing.
They spoke rarely, in gentle voices.
We withdrew to one side,
to an opening bright and high,
where all of them were visible.
There on the green enamel
the mighty spirits were pointed out to me—
I feel exalted to have seen them.
I saw Electra with many companions,
among them Hector and Aeneas.
Caesar in armor with his falcon eyes.
I saw Camilla and Penthesilea
on the other side, and King Latinus
sitting with his daughter Lavinia.
I saw Brutus who drove out Tarquin,
Lucretia, Julia, Marcia, and Cornelia,
and alone, apart, Saladin.
When I raised my eyes higher,
I saw the Master of those who know
sitting with his school of philosophy.
All gaze upon him, all do him honor.
There I saw Socrates and Plato,
who stand closest to him.
Democritus who ascribes the world to chance,
Diogenes, Anaxagoras, Thales,
Zeno, Empedocles, Heraclitus.
I saw the great collector of healing knowledge,
Dioscorides, and Orpheus,
Cicero, Livy, moral Seneca,
Euclid the geometer, Ptolemy,
Galen, Hippocrates, Avicenna,
Averroes who wrote the great Commentary.
I cannot describe them all in full—
the long journey drives me forward
so that words often fall short of reality.
Our company of six divides in two.
My wise guide leads me by another path
out from the quiet into trembling air,
and I come to a place where nothing shines.