Sunday, February 17, 2013


               Hell: Chapter 3


CREATIVE LOVE, CREATIVE INTELLECT                                
INFINITE JUSTICE IS MY ARCHITECT.                                                 6

NOTHING EXISTED BEFORE I WAS MADE.                             
ALL YOU WHO ENTER HERE, ABANDON HOPE!                               9

These fearful words carved deeply I could see                                 
            above a great dark doorway, so I cried,
            “O master, do these words apply to me?”                                         12

Like a good teacher giving calm advice,                                           
            “Don’t think that I mislead you,” he replied.
            “By now you should have lost your cowardice.                                15

I am assigned (recall) to help you view                                           
            the final state of those dead sinners who
            choose to corrupt the goodness of their mind.”                                  18

Smiling to cheer me on, he took my hand                                      
            and led me in beside a dreadful band
            who hurt my ears with horrid lamentation.                                        21

Screams, wails, howls, groans and other ugly cries                         
            went blasting by us in a starless dark
            with skirls of rancorous denunciation,                                                24
arguments yelled in tongues of every nation                                      
            or hoarsely growled, or hissed in execration,
            mingled with bitter moaning, sobs and sighs                                      27

that had me weeping too in emulation.                                             
            This madly squealing, roaring, snarling throng
            arms flailing, clutching hands and trampling feet,                               30

went reeling, shambling, charging, tumbling by,                             
            like sands in whirlwinds, birling round and round
            until their foggy billows hide the sky.                                                33

This ghastly crowd and din so filled my head                                  
            I gazed upon my guide and whispered, “Why?”
            “These timid sinners stood aside,” he said,                                        36

“when strong oppressors tyrannise and slay.                                    
            They may feel sympathetic to the weak
            but think it wise to keep out of the way.                                           39

When Satan, God’s prime minister, first planned                            
            to rule the universe, he raised a band
            of rebels who split Heaven in two, it seemed,                                    42

until some moderate angels formed a team                                              
            to stay aloof from holiness and sin
            until they saw which side was going to win.                                      45

They were the foremost damned when virtue  won.                  
            Outcasts of Hell and Heaven, here they run.”
            “But Master,” I asked, “why do they yell so loud?”                         48

He said, “This sorry crowd have the distress                                    
            of being altogether meaningless.
            They envy now the fate of everyone                                                             51

whose deeds and misdeeds will preserve their name                      
            in memory, through good or evil fame.
            Justice and mercy both reject them, so                                                           54

we’ll speak no more of them. Look, and let’s go.”                         
            I looked and saw a whirling flag ahead,
            chased by such multitudes, I never knew                                           57

such millions had been numbered with the dead,                            
            but one I knew, that cowardly Pope, who
            elected to reform the church’s sins,                                                    60

fearing to foul his hands by that, withdrew,                                            
            true to himself, but to our God untrue.
            Hornets that stung like daggers sped this race                                    63

of frantic nudity, so tears, sweat, blood,                                         
            splashing the ground from every limb and face
            were sucked by worms wriggling in trampled mud.               66

Beyond that rushing rabble I could see,                                        
            though dimly lit, a mighty river’s shore
            with quite a different crowd congesting it,                                         69

pressing and jostling. They looked to me                                      
            like people keen to reach the other side.
            I asked my guide, “What are they waiting for?”                                 72
“Wait and you’ll see,” was all that he replied.                               
            We reached the river. From the other shore
            I saw a ferry-boat come shooting out,                                                            75

rowed by a hoary ancient with white hair                                     
            who, when he neared our side, began to shout,
            “Welcome to grief and welcome to despair                                        78

you wicked ghosts! No glimpse of heavenly light                       
            for you again, condemned to endless night,
            with scorching heat or agonising frost.                                                           81

Welcome to what forever hurts you most!                                     
            But you – a living man – cannot cross here.
            My only business is to shift the dead                                                84

so go another way, and fast!” he said.                                        
            I did not move. “Trespasser, go!” he roared, 
            “I cannot carry you! Ghosts are my freight!                          87

This boat can’t bear a living body’s weight.”                               
            “Don’t bluster, Charon. You’ll convey this man,”
            my master said. “On high it has been willed                          90

your boat shall take him, so of course it can.”                             
            The quiet reasoning of this reply
            shut the grim captain’s mouth, although his rage                   93

glowed in a ring of flame around each eye                                   
            glaring upon the crowded landing stage
where his rude voice turned the bare bodies white                 96

and set teeth chattering. Gibbering with fright                             
            or wailing with it, those damned souls cursed God,
            mankind, themselves, cursed worst their parents’ bed,          99

the genitals and womb whence they were bred.                          
            Beckoned by Charon, one by one they fell
            downward like hawks swooping into his boat                       102

or spinning down like drifts of autumn leaves                             
            abandoning a tree to coat the ground.
            That demon with the eyes like flaming coals                          105

packed tightly in his cargo of damned souls,                               
            whacking the hindmost smartly with his oar.
            I went out with them over the dark water                              108 

and as we left behind the nearest shore                                        
            I saw it was as crowded as before.
            My kindly teacher said to me, “My son,                               111
 no nation is without a downward path                                         
            on which the dead are flocking here – each one
            who dies within the shadow of God’s wrath.                       114

Their weight of guilt, by force of gravity,                                  
            drags them all quickly down for punishment
            at the true depth of their iniquity,                                         117

a state they want, yet dread. No gleam of light                           
            (which they reject) diverts that downward flight
            to the right pain. Charon conveys them there,                       120

so hates conveying you who go elsewhere.”                               
            We reached the further shore and disembarked
            onto a desolate and gloomy plain                                         123

shaking with earthquakes, and I saw it split                                     
            by a great gust of wind erupting out
            black coiling clouds with crimson lightning lit.                       126

So shocking was the sight that even yet,                                   
            despite worse things I later saw in Hell,
            the recollection soaks my skin with sweat.                            129

Exhausted then, I fell down in a fit.                                          


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