... Nessun maggior dolore Che ricordarsi del tempo felice Nella miseria. (There is no greater pain than to remember a happy time when one is in misery.)
Through me you pass into the city of woe: Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, and sand eddies in a whirlwind.
Through me the way into the suffering city, Through me the way to the eternal pain, Through me the way that runs among the lost. Justice urged on my high artificer; My maker was divine authority, The highest wisdom, and the primal love. Before me nothing but eternal things were made, And I endure eternally. Abandon every hope, ye who enter here.
Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people
But the stars that marked our starting fall away. We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted that we stay.
At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.
There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness.
Ah! Justice of our God! Who else could stow Such travails new and pains as met my glance!
The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and likewise pain.
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