2 To run over better waters the little vessel of my genius now hoists her sails, 3 as she leaves behind her a sea so cruel; and I will sing of that second realm where the human spirit is purified, 6 and becomes worthy to ascend to heaven. But here let dead poesy rise again, O holy Muses, since I am yours, 9 and here let Calliope somewhat mount up, accompanying my song with that sound of which the wretched Picae 12 felt the stroke such that they despaired of pardon. A sweet color of oriental sapphire, which was gathering in the serene aspect 15 of the mid sky, pure even to the first circle, to may eyes renewed delight, soon as I issued forth from the dead air 18 which had afflicted my eyes and my breast. The fair planet which incites to love was making all the Orient to smile, 21 veiling the Fishes that were in her train. I turned me to the right hand, and gave heed to the other pole, and saw four stars, 24 never seen save by the first people. The heavens appeared to rejoice in their flamelets. O widowed northern region, 27 since thou art deprived of beholding these!
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