Haiku Trilogy

 I. It is when the light comes out of your eyes

That you know more is at work.

II. More than physics this,

More than matter here

In the light shining through you.

III. Ghosts take many different forms.

They curl in smoke,

Morph in cloud

Turn in stone.

Failing Breath

When stilled and done of mortal breath
There will remain the wisp of smoke the burst of light
The fragrance sweet the dance of flame
The deeds of day the dreams of night
Look and listen while yet you may

Journey on and live your days
In patient love one with another
Remember all that's been and done
And all that which has yet to come.

Mother love sustain through grace
This battered home this broken place
This body scarred this air disturbed
The damage wrought the life perturbed
Keep us close to you this day

And we will find again the thread
And share the wine and break the bread
And keep to heart the sacred vow
All through the night till morning come

Vincent Di Stefano
December 2011

Of Art and Water (A Song for Bobbie)

This short poem offers a remembrance of Bob Coy, a widely-known and well-loved artist and musician whose iconic presence energised the Lorne community throughout the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s.

My dear gone friend
Great lover of that sea into which you slowly slipped
In ashen remains of your once-laughing frame.

At first, a solitary bird.
Then another.
A flock soon wheeled around that billowing plume
Spreading beneath the circle of boards and bards
Gathered on furl and fall of Louttit Bay.

We were all there for your return to mother-water.
But that stark night, you laboured long alone
Then fell full still.

Your elements now curl through cold currents
And you are well-gone, long-gone beyond containment.

The birds of the air swooped into the sea that day.
They carried you to your new home.

Of Princely Monks and Waiting Women

Time in the cave may bring you closer to silence,
But the young child's cry more sweetly calls.

Entrancing chants voice old stories, enhance old memories,
But it is the one tongue that tells the time-held tales lived through every life.

The silence of the cave neither stills nor stalls the calls of turning worlds.
The glance of a full-blooded woman can dance you to forgotten times.

Wild seed thrashes through crimson bed, finding, fusing and fixing fates
That await their own awakening.

We are all free to leave. But some will choose to stay,
To feel the pain, to heal the hurt, to break the chain.

The princes have taken their leave.
The murmur of mothers softens the cries of those left behind.

Sweet comfort, strong as touch, sways through the dark nights.

Why walk on when you can hold another close?

Dante's Inferno. Canto 3

In Canto 2, Dante succeeds in overcoming his fear of what may lie ahead if he agrees to undertake a difficult journey through the underworld escorted by Virgil, the Roman poet. Virgil persuades Dante that despite the perils of such an undertaking, success is assured because it has been willed by Heaven.

Canto 3 commences at the Portals of Hell where they are greeted by the immortal words, "Abandon hope, all ye who now enter." It is here that Dante gains his first glimpse of the finality of the predicament confronting the vast number of souls gathered on the banks of the Acheron River, each waiting their turn to be ferried across the dismal waters by the ferocious boatman, Charon.




Canto 3 of Dante's Inferno can be streamed using the media player above. A CD quality audio file is also available for download here.

[Audio and text for Canto 1 can be accessed here.
Audio and text for Canto 2 can be accessed here.]

PRODUCTION NOTES

Music;
Project Divinity:    Piety
                            Gathering Dust
Softspace:             Sonic Journey
(Remix: vincentd)

Voice:
Vincent Di Stefano

Introduction

This canto introduces us more strongly to the style Dante will progressively develop throughout the poem. It is suffused with strong visual elements depicting the peculiar sufferings endured by those cast into the infernal realms:

These wretches who never had been truly human
Now naked and tortured by hornets and wasps
That surged and hovered and stormed all around them.

Their faces were streaked with black blood that flowed
Then mingled with tears and fell to the ground
To be sucked up by worms that were waiting below.

In addition, it introduces Dante's penchant for peopling the various hell-worlds with prominent individuals some of whom were personally known to Dante and many of whom would probably have been known to his audience of 14th century Florentine readers:

And stretching behind to the furthest horizon
Were more souls than ever I deigned to imagine
Undone and unmade by the coming of death.

And among them I saw some familiar faces
Including the shade of a cowardly one
Who dishonoured his life by a stubborn refusal.

This is generally understood to refer to Pope Celestine V, who abdicated the papacy in 1294 after holding the position for a period of only five months. This enabled the ascension to the papal throne of Pope Boniface VIII whose interference in Florentine politics directly resulted in Dante's exile. As will be seen in later cantos, Celestine is not the only pope that Dante relegates to hell. This reference also introduces the reader to another important aspect of La Divina Commedia as a whole. Throughout this poem, Dante progressively reveals the breadth of his knowledge and understanding not only of the historical currents of his own time, but his familiarity with the cultural histories and mythologies of the ancient world, and the theologies that determined so much of how life was lived in medieval Europe.

The Poem

Inferno. Canto 3

William Blake, The Portals of Hell, ca. 1825

“Through me you enter the tormented city,

Through me you come to eternal pain,
Through me you join with the desolate souls.

It was justice that moved the high One who made me

I was brought into being by the power divine,
By the sum of all knowledge, the wellspring of love.

Before me was no thing that was not eternal

And I will endure throughout endless time
Abandon all hope, all ye who now enter.”

These words were written in tenebrous hues
Suspended above a great arching doorway.
I asked my Master: “What does this mean?”

He said to me then with clear-headed wisdom:
“It is best now to put aside all of your doubt
And put far behind you all faint-hearted fear.

We arrive at that place of which I have spoken
Where you’ll see dire souls in deep agony
Bereft of all reason, without understanding.”

As he gently rested his hand upon mine
And knowingly smiled, I found consolation
And then came to know what had been concealed.

Sighing and wailing and deep grief resounded
Echoing stark through the starless air
Which brought me both sorrow and a streaming of tears.

Such a babble of tongues, of voices in terror
Agonised words and the roarings of rage,
Sounds of hands slapping, harsh rasping voices

All told of a tumult that rolled unrelenting
Like sand whipped aloft by a whistling whirlwind
All through the rank air in that place of despair.

With my head now bound in a shroud of confusion,
I said: “My master, what do I hear?
And what people are these so defeated by grief?

Then he said to me: “This miserable state  

Is the fate that now holds the pitiful souls

Whose lives were worth neither praise nor disdain.

They are now merged with that wretched chorus
Of half-hearted angels neither rebels nor true
Who served only themselves, ignoring their maker.

They were thrown out of heaven that it be not tainted
But the depths of hell refused to receive them
Lest their presence incite the contempt of those there.”

Then I said to him: “What weight is upon them
That makes them lament so desolately?”
He said: “I will tell you in very few words.

The ones that are here have no hope of dying
And their visionless lives have become so debased
That they simmer resentful of all other fates,

All trace of their lives is erased from men’s memories
They are spurned and despised by both justice and mercy
So discuss them no further, just observe and pass by.”

And as I beheld I saw a large banner
Furling and whirling in turbulent motion
That with every turn seemed to call out disdain

William Blake, At the Banks of the Acheron, ca. 1825

And stretching behind to the furthest horizon

Were more souls than ever I deigned to imagine
Undone and unmade by the coming of death.

And among them I saw some familiar faces
Including the shade of a cowardly one
Who dishonoured his life by a stubborn refusal.

It was then that I knew with the fullness of certainty
That this was the tribe of villainous souls
Despised by both God and by God’s enemies.

These wretches who never had been truly human
Now naked and tortured by hornets and wasps
That surged and hovered and stormed all around them.

Their faces were streaked with black blood that flowed
Then mingled with tears and fell to the ground
To be sucked up by worms that were waiting below.

And as I looked on past the ones there before me  

To the many more massed on the bank of a river

I asked: “My master, grant me this query:

Who are these people I see in the twilight
And what has compelled them to gather together
Seemingly eager to cross the wide river?”

And he said to me: “I will answer your question
Only after such time that our feet come to rest
On the cheerless banks of the Acheron River.”

With downcast eyes and feeling uneasy
Fearing my questions had deeply annoyed him
I spoke not a word till we reached the broad river.

And behold on a boat that slowly moved closer
A haggard old man with skin pale as death
Screaming: “Woe be upon you, despicable souls!

Never again will you see a blue sky
I come now to ferry you to the far shore
To eternal darkness, to fire and to ice.

And you over there! You, who are living
Go now! Withdraw from the ones who are dead.”
But seeing me steadfast and standing my ground

He said: “By other ways and by other doors
Elsewhere, not here, you may find a shore
And lighter wood that will carry you over.”

My guide said to him: “Be calm now, Charon.
Our coming was willed by the source of all will
So hold your wild tongue and ask nothing more.”

Then the tough woolly cheeks of the fearsome steersman
Of that misty marsh fell silent and still
And wheels of fierce fire encircled his eyes.

Gustav Dore, Charon on the Acheron

But the naked and weary souls there before us

Grew suddenly pale and clenched hard their teeth
As they finally grasped his ruthless intent.

They cursed their God and they cursed their parents
And they cursed that place and the whole human race
And the passion that brought them to earthly birth.

Then they all retreated together as one  

Loudly bemoaning the vicious abyss
That awaits every man who has no fear of God.

But the demonic Charon with his eyes of fire
Drove and herded them on together
Beating all who stalled with his weighty oar.

And as the dry leaves of autumn fall one on the other
Till the naked branch sees its once-green mantle
All spread out below on the waiting earth

So too fell the bad seeds of Adam
One on the other at that desolate shore
Like birds that attend to each other’s call.

And so they rode o’er the misty waters
But before even reaching the other side
A new herd had arrived awaiting their turn.

“Dear son of mine,” said my courtly master,
“Those who have died in God’s displeasure
Are all gathered here from every land

And they are all ready to cross over this river
Goaded relentless by justice divine
Over-riding all fear of what may await them.

Since no noble soul has ever here rested
Pay no heed to the ferryman’s ranting
As you now have knowledge of what drives him so.”

And just as he said this, the dark land trembled
So strongly that now at the very recall
A sudden wet sweat breaks out over me.

The sorrowing earth exhaled a vast breath
That billowed and grew with a reddening light
Submerging completely all of my senses.

And I fell as one taken, abducted by sleep.

[Translated by Vincent Di Stefano]

A pdf copy of this translation can be accessed here.

Dante's Inferno, Canto 2

The second canto of Dante's Inferno is in some ways a continuation of Canto 1, where Dante encounters the poet Virgil while lost and impeded in the selva oscura, the dark forest of mid-life dissolution and oppression. Dante agrees to be be led by Virgil through the realms of hell and purgatory in order to reach the portals of paradise and thereby participate in the beatific vision.

In Canto 2, Dante realises the depth of commitment required in such an undertaking and has second thoughts about the whole venture.

Virgil then elaborates on how he was himself inducted into the mission of rescuing Dante by Beatrice, Dante's first love whose earthly life ended at an early age.


Virgil enables Dante to overcome his fears and commit once again to the transformative journey that will take him from a state of ignorance, desire and passion to one of progressively awakening insight.




Canto 2 of Dante's Inferno can be streamed using the media player above. A CD quality audio file is also available for download here.

[Audio and text for Canto 1 can be accessed here.
Audio and text for Canto 3 can be accessed here.]

PRODUCTION NOTES

Music:
Emptywhale: The Boy Who Could Hear Colours (Internet Archive)
Remix: vincentd

Effects:
sbordage: Cicadas - recorded in Naxos, Greece. (Freesound)
klankbeeld: Birds - recorded in Zeeland, Netherlands (Freesound)

Voice:
Vincent Di Stefano

The Poem

Inferno: Canto 2

The day’s last light and the darkening air

Set free the creatures of the darkening earth

From their long and wearying daylight labours.

And alone I prepared to fight the battle

Of the path and the pathos that both lay before me,

And this I retell now through unerring memory.

My muse and my genius come help me now

O memory that harbours all things that I saw

Make known to all your deepest nobility.

And so I began: “My poet and guide,

Judge now my courage that it be not wanting

Before you entrust me to cross the high pass.

You sang then of how the father of Silvius

Courageous Aeneas while yet in the flesh

Strode without fear into the eternal.

It can be no surprise to all men of high vision

That the Lord who delivers us from every evil

Would show him great kindness while on that dark journey

Knowing full well the fate that awaited him

The fate fore-ordained by the powers of heaven

To be father of Rome and of all her wide empire,

The purpose whereof, to speak truth more clearly,

Was to bring into being that hallowed high place

Where the heirs of Saint Peter would later be seated.

And by that descent which you praised in your telling

He learned of the ways that would bring him to glory

And lead to the mantling of popes through the ages.

The vessel Saint Paul underwent the same journey

As the instrument chosen to strengthen our faith

In the way that will bring us to certain salvation. 

But why should I come and by whose decree?

I am not Aeneas. I am not Saint Paul.

There is none who would deem me be worthy of this.

For if I agreed to take on this journey

I fear that our going would lead us through folly

Hear me my sage for my reason is slipping.”

And as one who unwills that which he first willed

Whose purpose reverses with each new reflection

And turns back from what he has just undertaken

So too was I on that darkening slope

When by vacillate thinking I squandered the valour

That had so charged my spirit just moments before.

“If I well understand the words you have spoken”

Replied the generous spirit before me

“Your heart is now gripped by the cowardly dread

That can so stun a man that he holds back in terror

From doing what honour and courage demand

Just like a beast that fears its own shadow.

So to free you forever of this useless fear

Now I will tell you what drove me to find you

And how I first learned of your piteous plight.

I dwelled in the place of spirits suspended

When the voice of a blessed and beautiful woman

Called and I fell to her fragrant command.

Her eyes shone more brightly than stars do in heaven

And she spoke to me gently with words soft and calming.

In the tones of an angel she said to me:

“O kindly spirit of Mantova born

Whose fame still shines bright in the memory of men

And will further illumine the ages to come

A dear friend of mine though no friend of fortune

Now flounders alone on a harsh stony waste

Lost and obstructed in nervous retreat.

And from what I’ve heard told by others in heaven

I fear that he may have so lost his way

That I have arrived now too late to save him.

So rise and make use of your eloquent powers

And all other means you can summon to save him

So that I may find peace and that I be consoled.

I am Beatrice who now sends you to find him

And I yearn to return to the place that I came from.

It is love that impels me to ask for your help.

And when I return to my Heavenly Master

I will speak of you often in praise and thanksgiving.”

She then stood silent. I then began:

“O woman of beauty and of purest high virtue

By whom humankind has come far to surpass

All that is held in the orbit of heaven

Your command so fills me with pride and with honour

To accept it this instant would be yet belated

I wish for no more than to faithfully serve you.

But tell me, why have you deigned to descend

To these terrible depths that for so long have held me

Far from that realm that is your true home?”

“Since you wish so strongly to know of my purpose”

Said she, “I will tell you both briefly and clearly

Why I have come here without trepidation.

One should only be wary of things that may carry

The force and the power to bring harm upon you

Fear nothing else, for they are as shadows.

I was made by our God in his infinite mercy

In such a way that your pain cannot touch me

Nor the flames and the fires that flare all around us.

Our Mother above was deep moved by sorrow

For the plight of the one to whom I now send you

That the stern judge of heaven Himself has been softened.

She called to Lucia, the bearer of light

Saying to her: “Your true servant now needs you.

I call upon you to bring him protection.”

So Lucia the foe of all who are ruthless

Arose and then came to the place I was sitting

Alongside Rachel our well-renowned elder.

She said: “Beatrice, beloved of God

Why do you not tend to the man who so loved you

That he left the low ways of the derelict herd?

Are you not moved by his cries and his callings?

Can you not see the death he contends with

Flooding upon him more strong than the sea?

There is none on the earth who could move more swiftly

Even while fleeing the darkest of dangers

Than I after hearing what she had recounted.

I came down to you from my blessed throne

Fully trusting the power in your honest speech

That uplifts both yourself and all who would hear it.”

And after the telling of all of these things

Her luminous eyes full with tears turned away

Which made me hasten determined to find you.

And so I have come to you just as she wanted

To lead you away from that vehement creature

That is blocking the way to the mountain before you.

But tell me now what folly has gripped you?

Why is your heart so ensnared and so doubting?

And what has become of your courage and passion?

You have three blessed women who now look upon you

With care from the heart of the high court of heaven

And my words of truth as a promise of good.”

And just as closed florets burdened by night-frost

When graced by the light of the sun’s warming fires

Will rise and will open to breathe in the day,

So too did my failing honour revive

As the spirit of courage emboldened my heart,

And I spoke as one now fully transformed:

“O blessed woman who has come to my rescue,

And you kindest soul who without hesitation

Accepted the labour that she put before you

You have charged my heart with a will and desire

Your fine speech has drawn me to take on this journey

My resolve to be with you now fully restored.

So let us away with but one will between us

With you as my guide, my lord and my master.”

After I said this, he turned and proceeded.

And we moved on towards the high wooded pass.  

[translated by Vincent Di Stefano]

A PDF copy of this translation is available at: https://archive.org/details/Canto2