CANTO XXIII. The Triumph of Christ.

As the bird, among the beloved leaves, reposing on the nest of
her sweet brood through the night which hides things from us,
who, in order to see their longed-for looks and to find the food
wherewith she may feed them, in which heavy toils are pleasing to
her, anticipates the time upon the open twig, and with ardent
affection awaits the sun, fixedly looking till the dawn may
break; thus my Lady was standing erect and attentive, turned
toward the region beneath which the sun shows least haste;[1] so
that I, seeing her rapt and eager, became such as he who in
desire should wish for something, and in hope is satisfied. But
short while was there between one and the other WHEN: that of my
awaiting, I mean, and of my seeing the heavens become brighter
and brighter. And Beatrice said, "Behold the hosts of the triumph
of Christ, and all the fruit harvested by the revolution of these
spheres."[2] It seemed to me her face was all aflame, and her
eyes were so full of joy that I must needs pass it over without
description.

[1] The meridian.

[2] By the beneficent influences of the planets.


As in the clear skies at the full moon Trivia[1] smiles among
the eternal nymphs who paint the heaven through all its depths, I
saw, above myriads of lights, a Sun that was enkindling each and
all of them, as ours kindles the supernal shows;[2] and through
its living light the lucent Substance[3] shone so bright upon my
face that I sustained it not.

[1] An appellation of Diana, and hence of the moon.

[2] According to the belief, referred to at the opening of the
twentieth Canto, that the sun was the source of the light of the
stars.

[3] Christ in his glorified body.


O Beatrice, sweet guide and dear!

She said to me, "That which overcomes thee is a power from
which naught defends itself. Here is the Wisdom and the Power
that opened the roads between heaven and earth, for which there
had already been such long desire."

As fire from a cloud unlocks itself by dilating, so that it is
not contained therein, and against its own nature falls down to
earth, so my mind, becoming greater amid those feasts, issued
from itself; and what it became cannot remember.

"Open thine eyes and look at what I am; thou hast seen things
such that thou art become able to sustain my smile." I was as one
who awakes from a forgotten dream and endeavors in vain to bring
it back again to memory, when I heard this invitation, worthy of
such gratitude that it is never effaced from the book which
records the past. If now all those tongues which Polyhymnia and
her sisters made most fat with their sweetest milk should sound
to aid me, one would not come to a thousandth of the truth in
singing the holy smile and how it made the holy face resplendent.
And thus in depicting Paradise the consecrated poem needs must
make a leap, even as one who finds his way cut off. But whoso
should consider the ponderous theme and the mortal shoulder which
therewith is laden would not blame it if under this it tremble.
It is no coasting voyage for a little barque, this which the
intrepid prow goes cleaving, nor for a pilot who would spare
himself.

"Why doth my face so enamour thee that thou turnest not to the
fair garden which beneath the rays of Christ is blossoming? Here
is the rose,[1] in which the Divine Word became flesh: here are
the lilies[2] by whose odor the good way was taken." Thus
Beatrice, and I, who to her counsel was wholly prompt, again
betook me unto the battle of the feeble brows.

[1] The Virgin.

[2] The Apostles and Saints. The image is derived from St. Paul
(2 Corinthians, ii. 14): "Now thanks be unto God, which always
causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour
of his knowledge by us in every place." In the Vulgate the words
are, "odorem notitiae suae manifestat per nos."


As my eyes, covered with a shadow, have ere now seen a meadow of
flowers in a sunbeam which streamed bright through a rifted
cloud, so saw I many throngs of splendors flashed-upon from
above with burning rays, without seeing the source of the gleams.
O benignant Power which so dost impress them, upwards didst thou
exalt thyself to bestow space there for my eyes, which were
powerless.[1]

[1] The eyes of Dante, powerless to endure the sight of the
glorified body of Christ, when that is withdrawn on high, are
able to look upon those whom the light of Christ illumines.


The name of the fair flower which I ever invoke both morning and


<< previous page | next page >>

Jump to page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 |