Canto XV

The sun had traveled through its daily arc

until only as much remained of daylight

as shows between the third hour and dawn

of that bright sphere that plays like an eternal child.

Evening was falling there, while here midnight held sway,

and the sun's rays struck us full in the face

because we had circled the mountain

until we walked directly toward the west.

Suddenly I felt my forehead overwhelmed

by a brilliance far greater than before.

These unknown things left me stunned,

so I raised my hands above my brow

and made a visor of them

to shield against the excessive glare.

Like a sunbeam bouncing off water or a mirror,

leaping to the opposite side

and rising at the same angle it descended,

deviating from a straight line

as far as a falling stone would drop—

as both experiment and theory prove—

So it seemed that I was struck

by light reflected there before me,

and my sight rushed to escape it.

"What is that, dear Father," I said,

"that I cannot screen my eyes from completely,

no matter how I try, and it seems to be moving toward us?"

"Don't be amazed if the family of heaven

still dazzles you," he answered.

"It's an angel, come to invite us upward.

Soon it will be that seeing such things

will not cause you pain, but will delight you

as much as your nature was made to feel."

When we reached the blessed Angel,

he said with a joyful voice: "Enter here,

onto a stairway far less steep than the others."

We climbed upward, already departing,

and behind us rang the song "Blessed are the merciful"

and "Rejoice, you who overcome!"

My Master and I, we two alone,

continued climbing, and I thought

to gain some wisdom from his words.

I turned to him and asked:

"What did the spirit from Romagna mean

when he spoke of prohibition and partnership?"

"He knows the harm of his own greatest failing,"

Virgil replied, "so don't wonder

that he warns us, hoping we might suffer less.

Your desires are fixed on things

where sharing means each person gets less,

so envy fans the flames of your sighs.

But if love of the highest sphere

directed your longing upward,

that fear would not live in your heart.

For there, the more one says 'ours,'

the more good each person possesses,

and the more charity burns in that cloister."

"I hunger for understanding more than before,"

I said, "and more doubt gathers in my mind.

How can a blessing, when distributed to more,

make each possessor wealthier

than if only a few possessed it?"

"Because you still fix your mind

entirely on earthly things," he answered,

"you extract darkness from the very light.

That infinite and ineffable goodness

which exists above flows toward love

like sunlight streaming to a clear surface.

It gives as much of itself as it finds ardor,

so that wherever charity extends,

eternal power increases over it.

The more people aspire toward it,

the more there are to love well, and the more they love,

reflecting each other like mirrors.

If my reasoning doesn't satisfy you,

you will see Beatrice, and she will fully

remove this and every other longing from you.

Strive, then, for the five remaining wounds

to be extinguished soon, as two already have been—

wounds that heal themselves through the pain of feeling them."

Just as I was about to say "You have satisfied me,"

I saw that we had reached another circle,

and my eager eyes made me fall silent.

There it seemed that suddenly

I was caught up in an ecstatic vision

and saw many people in a temple.

At the entrance stood a woman

with the sweet manner of a mother, saying:

"My son, why have you treated us this way?

Look—your father and I have been searching for you,

full of sorrow." As she finished speaking,

what had first appeared vanished.

Then I saw another woman, tears

streaming down her cheeks—those tears

that grief distills when born from great disdain.

She was saying: "If you are lord of that city

whose name caused such strife among the gods

and from which all knowledge radiates,

revenge yourself on those bold arms

that embraced our daughter, O Pisistratus."

The lord seemed gentle and mild,

answering her with a calm expression:

"What should we do to those who wish us harm

if we condemn even those who love us?"

Then I saw people burning with rage,

killing a young man with stones,

crying loudly to each other, "Kill him! Kill him!"

I saw him bow down toward the earth,

already weighed down by approaching death,

but his eyes remained gates to heaven,

praying to the Lord Most High in such great conflict

to forgive his persecutors,

his face showing the look that unlocks compassion.

As soon as my soul returned outward

to external things that are real,

I recognized my true experiences.

My Leader, who could see me moving

like someone waking from sleep,

said: "What's wrong? You can't stand upright

but have been walking more than half a mile

with your eyes veiled and legs unsteady,

like someone overcome by wine or sleep."

"O my dear Father, if you'll listen,

I'll tell you what appeared to me

when my legs were taken from me this way."

"Even if you wore a hundred masks

over your face," he said, "your thoughts

would not be hidden from me, however small.

What you saw was meant to ensure

you open your heart to the waters of peace

that flow from the eternal fountain.

I didn't ask 'What's wrong?' like someone

who only sees with eyes that cannot perceive

when the body lies stripped of soul,

but asked to give strength to your feet.

This is how we must urge the sluggish onward,

those slow to use their wakefulness when it returns."

We continued through the twilight,

peering forward as far as sight could reach

against the late, bright sunbeams.

And look—by slow degrees, smoke approached

in our direction, dark as night,

with no place we could hide from it.

This robbed us of our sight and the pure air.