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Dante: Inferno
From Robert Pinsky's translation of The Inferno of Dante
New York: Noonday Press, 1994.

Canto I

Midway on our life's journey, I found myself
In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About those woods is hard--so tangled and rough
And savage that I saw, though how I came to enter
The old fear stirring: death is hardly more bitter.
5

And yet, to treat the good I found there as well
I'll tell what I saw, though how I came to stop
I cannot well say, being so full of sleep
Whatever moment it was I began to blunder

Off the true path. But when I came to stop
10

Below a hill that marked one end of the valley
That had pierced my heart with terror, I looked up
Toward the crest and saw its shoulders already
Mantled in rays of that bright planet that shows
The road to everyone, whatever our journey.
15

Then I could feel the terror begin to ease
That churned in my heart's lake all through the night.
As one stil panting, ashore from dangerous seas,
Looks back at the deep he has escaped, my thought
Returned, stil fleeing, to regard that grim defile
20

That never left any alive who stayed in it.

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Midway on our life's journey, I found myself In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell About those woods is hard--so tangled and rough And savage that I saw, though how I came to enter The old fear stirring: death is hardly more bitter.	5
And yet, to treat the good I found there as well I'll tell what I saw, though how I came to stop I cannot well say, being so full of sleep Whatever moment it was I began to blunder Off the true path. But when I came to stop	10
Below a hill that marked one end of the valley That had pierced my heart with terror, I looked up Toward the crest and saw its shoulders already Mantled in rays of that bright planet that shows The road to everyone, whatever our journey.	15
Then I could feel the terror begin to ease That churned in my heart's lake all through the night. As one stil panting, ashore from dangerous seas, Looks back at the deep he has escaped, my thought Returned, stil fleeing, to regard that grim defile	20
That never left any alive who stayed in it.

Dante: Inferno

Canto I