Canto XXI

I notice the passage you've provided appears to be incomplete - it cuts off mid-sentence with "Already on my Lady's face mine eyes Again were fastened, and with these my mind, And"

Could you please provide the complete passage from Paradiso Canto 21 that you'd like me to translate? I'd be happy to render it into modern, accessible English once I have the full text to work with.

She had withdrawn from all other purpose,

and she did not smile. "If I were to smile,"

she began, "you would become

like Semele when she turned to ash.

My beauty kindles more intensely

along the stairs of the eternal palace

the higher we ascend, as you have seen.

If it were not tempered, it shines so brilliantly

that all your mortal power would seem,

in its radiance, like a leaf crushed by thunder.

We have risen to the seventh splendor,

which now radiates downward from beneath

the burning Lion's breast, mingled with his power.

Direct your mind toward your eyes

and make them mirrors for the vision

that will appear to you in this mirror."

Anyone who could know what pasture

my sight found in that blessed face,

when I turned to another care,

would understand how grateful I was

for obedience to my celestial guide,

weighing one joy against the other.

Within the crystal sphere that revolves

around the world and bears the name

of its dear leader, under whom

all wickedness lay dead,

I saw a stairway rising to such heights,

colored like gold struck by sunlight,

that my eyes could not follow it.

I also saw descending down the steps

so many splendors that I thought

every light that appears in heaven

had been scattered there.

As rooks gather together at daybreak

according to their natural custom,

stirring themselves to warm their cold feathers—

some flying away never to return,

others circling back to where they started,

and still others wheeling around their home—

such was the pattern I saw there

within the sparkling lights that came together

as soon as they struck a certain step.

The one that remained nearest to us

became so bright that in my mind I said,

"I clearly see the love you show me.

But she from whom I await the how and when

of speech and silence stands still,

so I do well to ask nothing, despite my desire."

Then she, who saw my silence

in the sight of Him who sees everything,

said to me, "Release your burning desire."

And I began: "No merit of my own

makes me worthy of your response,

but for her sake who grants me this asking,

blessed life that remains hidden

in your beatitude, reveal to me

the cause that draws you so near my side.

Tell me why the sweet symphony of Paradise,

which sounds so devoutly through the spheres below,

is silent in this wheel."

"Your hearing is mortal, like your sight,"

came the answer. "They do not sing here

for the same reason that Beatrice has not smiled.

I have descended this far down

the holy stairway's steps only to welcome you

with words and with the light that cloaks me.

Greater love did not make me more ready—

love burns as much and more up there,

as the flaming makes clear to you.

But the high charity that makes us servants,

prompt to the counsel that governs the world,

assigns us here, as you observe."

"I see clearly, sacred lamp,

how unfettered love in this court

is enough to follow eternal Providence.

But this seems difficult for me to understand:

why were you alone predestined

to this office among your companions?"

No sooner had I reached the final word

than the light made its center a spinning point,

whirling like a swift millstone.

Then the love within it answered:

"A divine light is directed upon me,

piercing through this radiance that embraces me.

Its power, joined with my sight,

lifts me so far above myself

that I see the supreme essence from which it flows.

From this comes the joy with which I flame—

I match the brightness of my fire

to the clarity of my vision.

But that soul in heaven which is most pure,

that seraph who fixes his gaze most intently on God,

could not satisfy this question of yours.

What you ask sinks so deeply

into the abyss of eternal decree

that it is cut off from all created sight.

When you return to the mortal world,

carry this back: that it should not presume

to move its feet any longer toward such a goal.

The mind that shines here smolders on earth—

consider how it can accomplish below

what it cannot do even when heaven assumes it."

His words set such limits for me

that I abandoned the question

and humbly asked him who he was.

"Between Italy's two shores rise cliffs

not far from your native place,

so high that thunder sounds far below them.

They form a ridge called Catria,

beneath which stands consecrated a hermitage

dedicated to worship alone."

Thus began his third speech,

and continuing, he said: "There

I became so steadfast in God's service

that feeding only on olive oil

I passed lightly through heat and frost,

content in contemplative thoughts.

That cloister used to yield abundantly

to these heavens, but now has grown so empty

that its decay must soon be revealed.

In that place I was Peter Damian,

and I was Peter the Sinner in the house

of Our Lady on the Adriatic shore.

Little mortal life remained to me

when I was called and dragged forth to the hat

that passes always from bad to worse.

Cephas came, and the great Vessel

of the Holy Spirit came, lean and barefoot,

taking food from any inn.

Now the modern shepherds need attendants

on both sides to support them, and guides to lead them—

so heavy are they—and others to hold their trains.

They cover their horses with their cloaks

so that two beasts go beneath one skin.

O Patience, that endures so much!"

At these words I saw many small flames

descending from step to step, revolving,

and each revolution made them more beautiful.

They gathered around this one and stood still,

uttering a cry of such loud sound

that it could find no equal here.

I could not make it out—

the thunder overwhelmed me completely.