Dante's Inferno, Canto XIII

Previously: Canto XII, part II. WE'LL TALK TO THE NICE ONE,

CHIRON, WHO READS BOOKS AND USES A FORK WHEN HE EATS.

Canto XIII here.

A bad forest next, no tracks, no light, no leaves, no fruit;

all bristles, briers, burls, and barbs.

Scrub land and rough as sponge, nowhere rougher,

nowhere worse.

And Harpy-nested – woman-necked, slashed-foot, feather-bellied –

the trees dripping screeches, wail-painted air.

SO NOW WERE GETTING FURTHER INTO HELL,

good Virgil said. NEXT UP IS THE WORST EVER BEACH YOU SAW. BUT TAKE YOUR TIME FOR NOW AND LOOK AROUND.

Where to start? I followed first the screaming; that led everywhere. No point in going further,

every way I might have walked was all just "lost."

He worried I was slower than I was, so called out after me,

CLOSER THAN THAT. INSIDE THE WOODS.

SNAP OFF A TWIG AND BREAK YOUR TRAIN OF THOUGHT.

I struck out on a branch, I struck a thorn;

The split-stem screamed,

YOU BROKE ME. I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU BROKE ME.

Blood followed scream, scream followed blood, all dripped complaints;

WHY DO THAT. WHY BREAK ME. ALREADY I'M A TREE IN HELL

AND YOU COME MAKE IT WORSE.

Groans and blood flowed thick like sap, like fire carried down by wind –

I dropped it, both the thorn and train of thought,

but Virgil answered for us both:

I CANT BELIEVE HE DID THAT. OH MY POOR LITTLE TREE

IF ONLY HE HAD LISTENED TO MY WARNINGS

(what warnings? if a prompt can be a warning?)

IM SO ASHAMED OF DANTE – IM NOT WITH HIM.

WELL – ONLY JUST FOR WORK.

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