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Ranald Barnicot (born 1948) has published original poems and translations from various languages (Ancient Greek, Latin, French, Spanish, Portuguese and Italian) in journals such as Orbis, Cannon’s Mouth and Acumen. A Greek Verse for Ophelia and Other Poems by Giovanni Quessep, Selected Poems 1968 – 2017, Translated by Felipe Botero Quintana and Ranald Barnicot was published by Out-spoken Press in November 2018. By Me, Through Me (original poems and translations) was published by Alba Press in December 2018. His translation of Catullus’ shorter poems, Friendship, Love, Abuse etc. (Dempsey and Windle) came out in August 2020.
Various of these poems were included in Ranald’s book, By Me, Through Me – Original Poems and Translations (Alba Press, Uxbridge, 2019), http://www.albapublishing.com/#9781912773138 . Some have also been published in the following journals: Acumen, Orbis, Poetry Salzburg Review, Metamorphoses, Cannon’s Mouth and The Hypertexts (online only).
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Note: There is a link to the Italian text under the picture of Dante and at the bottom of the page there is also a YouTube video in which you can hear the original with English subtitles. Otherwise you can simply enjoy Ranald’s version!
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Dante Alighieri: Inferno Canto 1 translated by Ranald Barnicot
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
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I’d reached the midpoint of our life’s wayfaring
and found myself in a dark wood encircled,
the straight path lost to the dark trees’ devouring.
I was so stunned by this, I was so startled,
this pitiless, wild, impenetrable wood —
retelling, into terror I’m still hurtled,
this tale’s taste too harsh, unto death or as good!
Yet I’d tell much else I witnessed, underwent —
for the great good I found there, this hurt withstood.
How I entered there I’m all but ignorant.
Drowsiness befuddled me up to the point
I abandoned the true path with wits errant.
But, having arrived at where a hill adjoined,
there at the foot, where that vale terminated
of piercing terror in which I’d wandered pent,
I looked up, saw the hill illuminated,
shoulders already garmented with the rays
from that straight-guiding planet emanated.
My fear somewhat abated by the sun’s grace,
fear that, filling my heart’s lake, had persisted
throughout the night to drown me in such a space.
As one who on the seashore gasps exhausted,
arrested there, the deep’s perils scarce escaped,
returns to gape on water scarce resisted,
my soul, fugitive still, with exit scarce scraped,
so returned to gaze in awe on that traverse
live souls may not pass but roam to perish cooped.
But once I’d paused to regather my spent force
again I set off up the deserted verge,
pressing hard down behind to maintain my course.
And, see there, where the steep slope had scarce emerged
from the dark wood, a leopard, light-swift-footed,
with spotted coat, flashed suddenly like a scourge,
nor ever from before my face departed.
I, therefore, impeded, stalled and overborne,
faint-heartedly repeatedly retreated.
It was the time morning first stirs into form
and on its climb the sun still keeps company
with those very stars as at the primal dawn
when divine love set in motion such beauty,
so that the hour and sweet season both supplied
some reason for hope in that ferociously
prancing, dancing feline in fine gaudy hide,
not that I could hide my terror when I saw
advancing, outrageous, ravenous in pride,
a lion, head held high, rage aroused and raw,
coming against me minded to rend and chew,
such a beast the very air trembled before.
And then a she-wolf drew loping into view
who seemed, though lean, laden with every craving
whereby multitudes live as a wretched crew,
and laid such load on me I seemed past saving;
with all the terror that issued from her sight
hope of the heights seemed lost beyond retrieving.
As one who gains, gladdened by the good he sought,
and now gets to the time that enforces loss,
saddened, weeping, sickened in every weary thought,
so by that restless beast, granting me no rest,
I was crossed and recrossed, thus being driven
back to where the sun is sunk, in silence lost.
While I wallowed in fear I could not govern,
one whose voice long silence, it seemed, had hoarsened
stood in my sight, as though already given.
When in the great wild space I saw this person,
“Miserere on me,” beggingly I yelled,
whatever you are, shade or man for certain!”
He answered: “No man, but man I was of old,
and both my parents were of stout Lombard stock,
and Mantua as their fatherland they held.
Born sub Iulio, though late in that epoch,
I came to Rome under the good Augustus
when to false, false-speaking gods like fools we stuck.
I was a poet; I sang Anchises’ just
son, that grief-torn, toil-worn traveller from Troy
once he’d witnessed haughty Ilion combust.
But you, why back to such pain and turmoil stray?
Why do you not ascend the delightful mount
which supplies both source and motive of all joy?”
“Now are you that Vergil and that pristine fount
from which your eloquence spread a mighty river?”
Though diffident, shy, shamefaced, more words I found:
“O for all poets honour and light giver,
may my long study and great love avail me
whereby I’ve searched within your volume ever.
You, my master, author, sole authority,
from you alone I borrowed that lovely style
for which some honour me and poet style me.
Regard that vile beast so baulking me I stall,
turn, retreat; rescue me from her, famous sage;
my every vein and pulse she sets trembling still.
“Take another way, if you’d escape this creature’s rage”,
he answered on seeing tears deluge my face,
“for exit from this place so grim and savage.
You wail, but none can entice this beast, none force;
none she’ll let pass; she’ll keep her way, tooth and claw;
from such stubborn, murderous hindrance, no recourse.
Beast cruel, vicious, insatiable outlaw,
who never can fulfil her wilful craving,
she starves on feasting, more famished than before.
Many the animals she mates with, leaving
yet more to come till the greyhound should arrive
who’ll end in mortal pain her avid striving.
He shall not on pilfered land nor pelf survive,
whom rather wisdom, love, virtue shall nourish;
between felt and felt shall he be born and thrive.
May lowly Italy find health and flourish
through him, land for whom Turnus, Maid Camilla,
Euryalus, Nisus, all wounded perished.
Through every town he’ll chase that vicious killer
until to hell he has once more dispatched her
whom Envy first sent forth our world’s despoiler.
Wherefore I judge, considering this matter,
that you follow me, and I shall be your guide
to lead you hence through that eternal, bitter
place where you will hear the desperate outcries
and see the ancient spirits in torment, each
screeching at the second death each one still dies;
and those you will see content the fire will scorch
and more than scorch them, for they hope by that fire
the dwellings of the blessed sometime to reach.
To ascend to their domain if you’d aspire,
you’ll find a soul who’s a far worthier guide.
With her I’ll leave you and whence I came retire,
for that empire’s emperor has placed close guard,
given I was a rebel against his law:
would I bring you to his city, I am barred.
In every region he’s emperor and lord;
and there is his city, there his lofty throne;
O fortunate whom he chooses to reward!”
“Poet,” I said, “by that God to you unknown
then, nevertheless now help me, I beseech,
to flee this creature, or what worse may be shown,
so that by your promised guidance I should reach
St Peter’s Gate, though travelling there I find
those lost or struggling spirits whose grief you teach.”
At which he moved off; I followed close behind.
Notes
A. Symbolism
(1) The wild beasts. There are various theories about the symbolism of the leopard, lion and she-wolf, but it is plausible they stand for lust, pride and anger, and avarice respectively. The she-wolf seems to be the deadliest of the three and it could well be that she also represents the papacy. Dante was doctrinally orthodox; however, he bitterly opposed the papacy’s claim to temporal power and territory. He believed, with some justice, that Pope Boniface VIII was behind his banishment from Florence in 1302. He was forbidden to return on pain of burning at the stake.
(2) The greyhound, “born between felt and felt”. There has been much dispute concerning the identity of this beast:
(i) Can Grande de La Scala, the ruler of Verona, known as Can Grande (“Big Dog”) because of his physical and mental strength and aggression. He gave Dante refuge during his exile. “Born between felt and felt” (Italian feltro) could be a pun on two place names, Feltre (a hill-town in the Veneto), and Montefeltro (in Romagna). Verona lies between the two.
(ii) The Emperor Henry VII. The Holy Roman Empire was an elective monarchy; the ballot was carried out by counters being dropped into a felt-lined box. Dante thought that the Emperor’s invasion of Italy (1311–1313), terminated by his untimely death, would lead to political and religious reform.
(iii) Dante himself, who was born under the sign of Gemini, i.e. the twins Castor and Pollux, often shown wearing conical felt caps. In this case, of course, his leadership would be moral and spiritual, not military.
There are, of course, plenty of other interpretations. Dante did not seek to make his intentions clear.
B. Verse Form
Dante wrote his poem in terza rima and in hendecasyllabic verse. I have imitated this in my translation, although the rhyming is more approximate than the original. I hope and feel that within the eleven syllables per line framework a variety of English accentual-syllabic measures make their presence felt.
Biography of Dante
Dante, in full Dante Alighieri, (born c. May 21–June 20, 1265, Florence, Italy; died September 13/14, 1321, Ravenna, Italy), Italian poet, prose writer, literary theorist, moral philosopher, and political thinker. He is best known for the monumental epic poem La commedia, later named La divina commedia (The Divine Comedy). In this poem Dante travels through Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, guided in the first two regions by the poet he reveres most of all, Virgil, and in the last by Beatrice, the woman he loves and his moral and spiritual inspiration.
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The High Window 