PURGATORIO, Epsiode 224. That Which Walks In The Forest: PURGATORIO, Canto XXIX, Lines 31 - 57

As the pilgrim, his poets, and the beautiful lady continue to stand beside Lethe, they see the approaching parade of the apocalypse, which is an example of emergent revelation, the truth coming in slowly and even deceptively.

Our poet has set up a poetic space that leaves even Virgil speechless as we witness the first of the parade of multiple, open-ended meanings proliferate in the Garden of Eden.

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The segments for this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:

[01:16] My English translation of PURGATORIO, Canto XXIX, Lines 31 - 57. If you'd like to read along or continue the conversation with me, please scroll down this page.

[04:00] The emergent revelation of the images and sounds.

[09:00] The process of perception (and understanding).

[14:12] Multiplying meanings in the apocalyptic parade.

[20:27] The creation of space for the poetic imagery.

[23:11] The second invocation of PURGATORIO.

[26:50] The questions of poetic craft in this vision.

[28:23] Virgil in the apocalypse.

[31:10] Rereading the passage: PURGATORIO, Canto XXIX, lines 31 - 57.

My English translation of PURGATORIO, Canto XXIX, Lines 31 – 57

Meanwhile, as I walked among all the

First fruits of eternal pleasure, in great suspense

Yet still desiring a greater happiness,

The air ahead of us seemed to become like a blazing fire

Underneath the green branches

And the sweet sound could now be understood as singing.

O known-to-be-sacred virgins, if I have ever suffered

Hunger, cold, or vigils on your account,

Here’s the reason I’m spurred to call on you for mercy now.

Helicon must now contrive verses for me

And Urania must help me with her chorus

To put the things that are overwhelming to think into verse.

A little farther on, there appeared what looked like a false image

Of seven golden trees, caused by the long distance

That was still between us and them.

But when I was so close to them that

The common object, the one that makes the senses ignorant,

Is no longer lost because of the distance from it,

The power that provides reason the manna for its arguments

Saw that they were candelabra

And sang with voices, “Hosanna!”

Overhead, the beautiful array flamed

A bit brighter than the midnight moon

In a peaceful sky and the middle of its month.

Full of wonder, I turned toward

The good Virgil, and he gave me his response

With a face that was no less bewildered with awe.