The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• The Trinity of Love
• Preface
• Paradiso I
• Paradiso Ii
• Paradiso Iii
• Paradiso Iv
• Paradiso V
• Paradiso Vi
• Paradiso Vii
• Paradiso Viii
• Paradiso Ix
• Paradiso X
• Paradiso Xi
• Paradiso Xii
• Paradiso Xiii
• Paradiso Xiv
• Paradiso Xv
• Paradiso Xvi
• Paradiso Xvii
• Paradiso Xviii
• Paradiso Xix
• Paradiso Xx
• Paradiso Xxi
• Paradiso Xxii
• Paradiso Xxiii
• Paradiso Xxiv
• Paradiso Xxv
• Paradiso Xxvi
• Paradiso Xxvii
• Paradiso Xxviii
• Paradiso Xxix
• Paradiso Xxx
• Paradiso Xxxi
• Paradiso Xxxii
• Paradiso Xxxiii

PARADISO XIV

• In rounded vessels water moves from rim
• to center, and from center so to rim,
• according as one strikes it from without
• or from within. What I am saying here
• fell suddenly into my mind, when once
• the glorious life of Thomas ceased to speak,
• because of the resemblance which arose
• between his speech and that of Beatrice,
• who, after him, was pleased to speak as follows:

• “This spirit needs, although he tells you so
• neither by voice, nor ev’n by thinking it,
• to reach the root of still another truth.
• Tell him, then, if the light, wherewith your substance
• is flowering, will remain with you the same
• eternally as even now it is;
• and if it still remain so, tell him how,
• when ye have been made visible again,
• it can be such as not to hurt your sight.”

• As when impelled and drawn by greater gladness,
• those who are dancing lift at times their voices,
• and give their actions greater sprightliness;

• so, at that prompt and reverent request,
• the holy circles showed new joyousness,
• both in their whirl and in their wondrous song.

• He that lamenteth that we die down here
• to live up yonder, hath not seen up there
• the comfort of the eternal rain. That One
• and Two and Three, who ever lives and reigns
• in Three and Two and One, uncircumscribed,
• and circumscribing everything, was there
• by each and all of yonder spirits sung
• with such a melody, that it would be
• a just reward for any one’s desert.

• And in the smallest ring’s divinest light
• I heard a gentle voice, like that with which,
• perhaps, the Angel spoke to Mary, answer:
• “As long as Paradise’s joy shall last,
• so long our love will radiate around it
• a garment such as this. Its clarity
• is patterned on our ardor, and our ardor
• upon our vision, and as keen is that,
• as is the grace it hath above its worth.
• When with our glorious and perfected flesh
• we ’re clothed again, our persons will give greater
• pleasure, because of being all complete;
• wherefore, whatever freely given light
• the Good Supreme may grant us, will increase —
• a light permitting us to see Him; whence

• our vision needs must grow; and grow the ardor
• which from it is enkindled, and hence grow
• the radiance, likewise, which proceeds from this.
• But as a burning coal emits a flame,
• and by its vivid glow surpasses it,
• so that its own appearance is maintained;
• so will this brightness which surrounds us now
• be vanquished in appearance by the flesh,
• which still is covered by the earth; nor will
• so great a light avail to weary us,
• because our body’s organs will be strong
• for whatsoe’er is able to delight us.”

• So quick and careful seemed both choirs to say
• ‘Amen!’, that clearly a desire they showed
• to have their buried bodies; and not, perhaps,
• for their own sakes alone, but for their mothers,
• and fathers and the others, who were dear
• to them, ere they became eternal flames.

• Then round us everywhere, of equal brightness,
• outside the luster there, another rose,
• like an horizon which is growing clear;
• and as new apparitions come in sight
• throughout the sky, at early evening’s rise,
• sò that one’s vision seems, and seems not, true;
• meseemed that new subsistences I there
• began to see, and that a ring was forming
• outside the other two circumferences.

• O thou true sparkling of the Holy Spirit!
• How suddenly and glowingly it flashed
• before mine eyes, which, vanquished, stood it not!

• But Beatrice revealed herself so fair
• and smiling, that this vision must be left
• ’mong those that followed not my memory.
• I hence gained strength to raise mine eyes again;
• and with my Lady alone I saw myself
• borne to a higher grade of blessedness.
• I well perceived that I was higher up,
• by reason of the star’s enkindled smile,
• which ruddier seemed to me than is its wont.

• With all my heart and with that kind of speech
• which is the same in all, I made to God
• such holocaust as was befitting this
• new grace; and the ardor of my offered self
• had not yet been exhausted from my breast,
• when I perceived that sacrifice was welcome
• and pleasing; for to me there then appeared
• splendors between two rays, so bright and red,
• that I exclaimed: “O Helios, who dost so
• adorn them!” As the Galaxy, bedecked
• with smaller and with greater lights, so glimmers
• ’tween the world’s poles, that even the wise are led
• to doubt; thus, constellated in the depths
• of Mars, those rays described the honored sign,
• which in a circle quadrant-joinings make.

• My memory overcomes my genius here;
• because that Cross so lightened forth the Christ,
• that I can find therefor no fit example;
• but whosoever taketh up his cross
• and follows Christ, will pardon me again
• for what I leave, when in that glow he sees
• the Christ flash forth. Lights moved about from arm
• to arm, and ’tween the summit and the base,
• and sparkled brightly when they met, and when
• they passed each other. Thus we here see, straight
• and crooked, swift and slow, and ever
• renewing their appearance, particles
• of bodies long and short, as through a ray
• they move, whereby at times that shade is streaked,
• which folk, to shield them, make with skill and art.

• And as a viol or a harp, attuned
• with many strings, a pleasant tinkling makes
• for one by whom the music is not caught;
• so from the lights which there appeared to me,
• a melody was gathered through the Cross,
• which rapt me, though I made not out the hymn.

• I well perceived it was of lofty praise,
• because ‘Arise!’ and ‘Conquer!’ came to me,
• as to who heard, but did not understand.

• So much in love with it did I become,
• that naught had ever fettered me before
• with such sweet bonds. My words, perhaps,

• appear too bold, in that they lower set
• the pleasure giv’n me by the lovely eyes,
• looking in which my longing finds its rest;
• but who considers that the living seals
• of all fair things do more, the higher up,
• and that I had not there looked up at them,
• may pardon me for what, to be excused,
• I ’m self-accused, and see that I speak true;
• for here the holy joy is not excluded,
• since, as it mounts, the purer it becomes.