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DANTE - INFERNO Rap Translation - Cantos 7​-​10

by Hugo The Poet

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1.
Canto 7 09:24
‘Curse us in perpetuis, Emperor Satan, who rules us Satan god, first among the ruthless, bar the way of these intruders…’ This fearsome invocation was beginning to spill from the clicking lips of Plutus. But my benign wise guide who all things knew said Suddenly to encourage me: ‘Do not allow your fear to grow in The face of this disgraceful despicable opponent. For any power that he may have won't be Sufficient to prevent you descending this slope,’ then He turned to face Plutus whose face was coated With pustullating sores and bloated, And intoned this: ‘Silence, you wretched wolf. Be consumed by the violence of your infected soul! This journey into the abyss is not causeless; It has the highest authority in heaven's fortress, Whence the archangel Michael wrought his Vengeance upon the rebellious angels he fought with.’ And then, just like when a ship’s sails, Inflated and taut in the winds of the gales, Collapse and fall when the mast splinters and fails On hearing Virgil unveil that pagan god withered and fell And so we were able to continue advancing, Descending into the fourth level of the chasm, And exploring further into the span of This woeful land that attracts in all bad that ever happens. Ah! divine justice of God! Who is it that piles such sufferings on As those which at that moment I did behold? And why do our sins lay such waste to our souls? These thoughts rolled in my mind as I witnessed Moving round the circle limitless woeful spirits; A churning as vicious as the maelstrom of Charybdis, That sucks in and spits out anything that floats near it. Two equally enormous groups of people are there, Trudging in opposite directions around their hemisphere Each spirit crying and howling in despair, Forced to push a huge boulder, much heavier than they are. When two of them crash head on, the weights clash and they can't move They curse one another, and argue One shouting, ‘Why are you hoarding the space I want to pass through?’ The other replying, ‘Why do you squander this part too?’ Then they each turn around, and commence with Pushing their jagged boulder in the other direction, On their way to the opposite section, Still shouting about the other’s transgression, while the boulder rips their flesh, Until they would have met again many years hencewith, And repeated the same routine of invective, And then flipped again to repeat the whole repetitive process and I, with heart pierced at this sight couldn't help but Exclaim: ‘My master, could you explain Who these people are that we see in this frame. For example, those ones on the left with heads all shaved Were they all clergy when on the earthly plain?’ And Virgil explained, nodding his head quick, ‘While living they held such a twisted perspective That any money they were blessed with They wastefully mismanaged and spent it And the profligate nature they possessed is Evidenced in the invective that they yell whenever They eventally get to the end of their section And crash into those spirits with the opposite affliction. You’re correct, many clergy are found In that group with shaven crowns And cardinals and popes also abound For avarice afflicts them in astounding amounts. And I replied: ‘My master, I am surprised: Given who I've known in my time, I’d have surmised That I’d recognise many of those here arrived Due to them being guilty of these precise evil crimes.’ And he replied, ‘Well, you thought wrong in this. For whether they were parsimonious or profligate they were undiscerning, and because of this, The rock scrapes off their skin making them faceless and anonymous. These two groups will grind against each other forever Until at the end of days they’ll rise from the grave and This group will have their fist tight closed whereas These other ones there will be shaved hairless. Divine fairness has taken their ability to be careless, to either hoard or waste, to be avaricious or misers. Their mutual punishment is timeless, I can barely find words to describe it Behold, son! Now if you observe with caution, You can plainly discern this farce that absorbs them Is broadly that of committing goods to fortune, For which the human race has perpetually fought then. And now, all the gold that has existed ever, Under the moon or in the stars beneath the heavens Couldn't make a single one of these weary spirits Stop their unpleasant toil and rest for a second.' ‘Master,’ I asked him, ‘You also talked of Some entity called Fortune, but I couldn't comprehend. What is this Fortune of which you caution, That it grips the world's riches so in its claws then?’ Virgil began to talk, and say, ‘These creatures. Idiots, still. All you humans are just a pack of imbeciles. What wilful ignorance is this that afflicts you out of all proportion? Now I will make you drink my judgement of her - this Fortune... The Awesome Being whose omniscience Transcends all things, brought into existence The heavens, and created angelic entities to govern them well, So that every part shines on every other part as well. Distributing the divine light in equal measure; He did the exact same thing for earthly treasures, Which are the equivalent on earth of heaven's splendors He made and ordained this Fortune as the minister. And she was given the charge of a system By which, she deals and shifts the pointless wealth and richness From race to race, from those that have, to those who missed it Randomly, no matter how much humanity craves or resists it. This means that one people triumphs, with wealth to brandish, While others perpetually languish, Seeking at last for Fortune’s judgment to pass, But it is hidden, just like a serpent in grass. All your savvy and smarts, or plans that you enter Are for naught, for your knowledge cannot stand against her. She foresees, judges, and executes her rule at the helm Just as those angelic entities do in their realms. In truth, Fortune cannot be reasoned with, there’s really no use There’s no placating her sentence, no treaty, no truce. By necessity, she must be swift to discern and to deal, So many multitudes must have their turn on the wheel. And this is she who is so condemned, and crucified, Even by those who owe much to her in life, And should be grateful to her by right, Which gives her unfair blame, and ill repute but in spite Of this, she is in a state of bliss and doesn't listen To the critics’ complaints and whispers. For like the other first created entities, She just gladly spins her sphere and rejoices in her blessed state. But we can wait no longer to go: We must descend now to even greater woe. The stars that were ascending when I set out are sinking low, And resting too long a time is forbidden, you know.’ At that moment we crossed the circle, And reached the other bank near to a fount that gurgles And boils out of the ground hurling water that curdles Into a gully along which it hurtles. The water pouring is far darker than a purple bruise And forms violent dark waves in turgid flumes. That’s where we entered onto a rough path that emerges to Take us over the body of water, bursting through The harsh mud where it turns into a sickly bog of stench in the midst. And this depressing sadistic stream, where it descends to mix With the mad broiling water that mixed with thick sludge that slicks Around those malignant gray shores is known as... the Styx. And I stood on the bank and rubbed my eyes in disbelief For all around sprawled in the water I could see People lying writhing and fighting in the mud filled sea All naked and with facial expressions twisted aggressively. They struck at each other with every limb they possessed. Not only the fist, but with head butts, and vicious kicks. They choked necks and broke each other's bones with their feet And gripped each other's flesh and tore it apart with their teeth. At that point my good and calm guide expounded, ‘Son, now you behold the souls of those overcome by anger Condemned to lie in this shallow cesspool and fight forever But if you look in the depths I would have you be aware that Underneath them, deeper, where you can see no persons, There are a multitude of other vermin squirming beneath the surface. They are down there drowning, gurgling and worthless, And it’s they who are spurting these million bubbles that churn this Quagmire in which they’re forever stuck without moving. With filthy mud in their mouths they say, “We were sullen and gloomy! When we could breathe the sweet air which the sun blessed We were depressed carrying a stagnant stench in our chests! Thus we condemned ourselves to fester in this slurry perpetually.” And they keep groaning this in a droning melody Broken by fits of choking, and they wretchedly weep For the mud keeps filling their mouths and preventing speech.’ When we’d been following this fetid creek for an hour Between the dry bank and the swamp around it, watching these pathetic mud eating sinners fight like brutes or just cower, We eventually reached the foot of a tower.
2.
Canto 8 08:19
Inferno: Canto VIII But wait a second cause I'm getting way ahead of myself Long before arriving where the edifice dwelt - This high tower - before reaching that turret Our eyes had been summoned upward to its black summit Due to, all of a sudden, seeing two bright sparks lit at the top and flash, catching the eye in the darkness And way in the distance another flame signal answered this So far away, it was hard to target so I turned quick to that ocean of discernment My guide and master, the noble Virgil, and said 'what messages are those first two flames sending What did the other fire answer, and who set them?' And so Virgil in turn turned to say "If you fix you gaze out over the murky waves The thing which is beckoned will be coming that way As you'll see, if the foul gas of this morass doesn't get in the way." The string of a bow never unleashed and flicked a deadly arrow from its fearsome grip To slip through the air with a speed so swift As the speed I then witnessed a sciff possess As it sped over the water towards us with no evidence of how it was being propelled forward And it was being guided by a single oarsman Who hollered "finally, wicked soul, you have been caught then!" "Phlegyas! Son of Mars, We hear you yell at us. But for once your fiery cries are not relevant" my lord said to him "our time in your custody is temporary Only as long as necessary to get us across this estuary." Phlegyas reacted like he'd just realised the fact that he'd been knifed in the back, And we glimpsed the fires of that rage that would have followed When he learnt his daughter had been raped by the god Apollo And he burned down that deity’s temple at Delphi But my guide ignored it, and walked to the boat to board it Then he signaled for me to follow him off the shore And it was only when I got on board that the boat sank into the waters at all At the exact instant that we had left the banks and stepped on the deck of the boat it commenced travelling The ancient prow of the boat splashing up More water than it normally does with any of its usual cargo of passengers. I felt nervous. My rage like a furnace, As the boat ploughed through the sewage surface. Then a mud caked muscular person, jumped up grabbed the boat and cried 'who are you that comes to this place before your time?' though I was shocked, I angrily spat back in his face "I might be here now, but I'll not remain trapped in this place; Unlike you... Look at how you have become so disgusting?" He answered, "Do you not pity me now that I am suffering?" And I yelled at him, "no amount of suffering, weeping And wailing can change the fact that you remain A disgraceful wicked despised individual For in spite of your being hideously disfigured, I recognise you still” Then, like he did once in Florence, he tried to dive at me Into the boat, to attack, bite and fight with me But Virgil grabbed that bastard's wrists and threw him into the bogs Yelling 'Get back down in the broth with the other dogs!' And then Virgil passionately hugged me round the neck He held me close, kissed my face and said "Disdainful soul, you are correct to have contempt Blessed be the woman who fed you from her breast. That spirit, when living was riddled with arrogance he attacked you and prevented you returning to Florence and numberless other callous deeds accompany his name So down here, he remains afflicted with malice the same. There are so many exalted leaders alive now Who will find that when they die will drown Down here in the swamp, like swines in the slough Leaving only horrible stains on their titles and crowns' And I spoke out, ‘Master, my hate for him is so much but it would assuage my wrath If I could only watch that loathsome grot choke and cough, consumed in gross broth, before we go forth.’ And he thus replied to me once more 'worry not, for well before you see the shore This exact desire that you have expressed will manifest For to want to have your revenge, is totally correct.' And I watched a mass of naked souls getting charged and ready to charge and fling themselves on Philip Argenti, I'll never forget the gloriously gory bloodletting and will thank God forever that I got to witness it all happen A huge horde surrounded him and was yelling in a frenzy 'kill Philip Argenti! kill Philip Argenti!' And even before they tore him apart to a bloody mess he was biting his arms to shreds, ripping his own flesh The boat left that mayhem behind So no more will I talk of him, or bring him to mind Because at that time, a horrid cry filled these ears of mine And into the darkness ahead, I fixed my eyes And my master said, 'listen to this Right now we're drawing near to the city of Dis The city in which every citizen lives in perpetual eclipse In multitudes of a magnitude that defies estimates. And I said to this: 'i can already dimly detect And discern in the darkness some minarets And domes Of mosques, looking vermilion red As if from a giant fire they were being fed.' And he said, 'Yes, for in this place flames do dwell Kindled and lit for eternity, to burn and swell This makes it all look red, and gives a sulphurous smell For now you behold the nether Hell.' After a spell, as we sped forth on that boat We reached the zone of the deep set of moats Which surround that dark woeful city entire Whose high walls appear to be made of iron But before our arrival, our pilot made a wider Circuit, And we took in the heights of this furnace filled city, then with curses he yelled at us 'get off the boat, you wretches. This is the entrance.' Then commenced a deafening sound like a tornado Of shouts and wails of more than a thousand fallen angels Who were stationed guarding the gates of that prison And were livid, spitting 'who is this still living Without death, who dares to enter and step Into the depths of this kingdom of the dead?' And just then, my wise guide who was leading me gave a signal that he wished to parlay with them secretly And these former angels who all still Evi dently felt in a state of war against heaven Became slightly calmer and did say 'you come alone, Send him home, who has so boldly entered our zone Let him return back along his mad road If he survives, he will be permitted to go But you shall remain here below, You who have escorted him through such dark abodes' Think a while, reader, how I felt at that time When i heard these threats to myself and my guide For if I were to lose Virgil next to my side I'd never return to this dimension of life 'o my dear guide who until now in this ride More than seven times have rescued my hide And kept me safe, pulling me back from the brink Of Many myriad dangers in which I was about to sink Please, I beg of you, do not leave me here for if the way forward is no longer clear And we are prevented from continuing our mission Let's retrace our steps together back to the beginning' And Virgil, my great poetic hero I had joined with Who had led me this far with no disappointment Said, 'have no fear, attempting to stop our journey is pointless None can stand in our way, or void it, for it has been anointed But I have an appointment to parlay with those demons so wait for me right here - don’t worry, I’m not leaving Nourish and comfort your weary spirit and be undeterred for I will never abandon you here in this underworld” at that point he goes ahead, and in spite of what he said I feel a sense of abandonment, doubt and dread. A sense of loneliness to be left by my adopted father while in my head, no and yes each vie to be the master I couldn't hear the words that passed between them Or what he proposed to these dastardly demons But he wasn't speaking with them a long time Before they all turned tail and gruffly ran back inside The battlement gates, which when behind These enemies as if preparing to fight, slammed tight Right on my Lord's face, who was still outside And who returned to me with an uneasy stride With downcast eyes, furrowed his brow became and with all of his confidence and pride erased And he said with a sigh, 'who has barred now the way And denied me entry into the house of pain?' And now he did say back to me 'look, just because I'm angry Doesn't mean you need fear calamity For I will conquer this challenge that stands in the way Whatever efforts for defense they have planned within The arrogance that they currently display Is nothing new, for they used it also one momentous day At that previous less secret gate, trying in vain to defend it When the son of God walked this way, and it still hangs off its hinges That gate over which you read that dreadful inscription And right now on this side of it is descending And passing across the circles without assistance One whose mere presence will rip open this city in an instant."
3.
Canto 9 09:42
4.
Canto 10 09:23

about

The Inferno Rap Translation:
It's seven hundred years since Dante Alighieri penned his epic poem, Commedia, in which he describes in breathtaking detail a journey into three realms of the Catholic afterlife. So insanely inspired was this poetic undertaking, that swiftly after its completion, giddy readers added the epithet Divine to it, and 'La Divina Commedia' has never been surpassed in scope or style in seven centuries of poetry in any language.

Dante made use of a poetic form described as the 'Dolce Stil Novo' which translates as The Sweet New Style. He was determined to prove that the collection of unrefined dialects of the peninsula that we now know as Italy were just as appropriate for writing poetry as the Latin which all other writers of the time felt obliged to favour. He called this principle 'De Vulgari Eloquentia' - the Eloquence of Vulgar Languages (i.e. the eloquence of the vernacular). In exile from his beloved Florence, he set about writing the Commedia, and over the course of 100 canti, not only proved that the disparate dialects were up to the task, but effectively created the Italian language in the process, and immortalised himself to boot.

Over the epic journey, in effortlessly flowing and ingenious rhyme form, he shows the language's ability to run the gamut of tones from the brutal and disgusting tortures of Hell to high flown and awe-inspiring visions of Paradise. So great was his prowess with rhyme, that he effectively placed himself at the top of the all-time great rhymers that humanity has produced for seven centuries.

However, when in the latter half of the 20th Century, in New York, an upstart group of young musical innovators gave birth to a style of music and a subculture called Hip Hop, all of a sudden, in the form of Rap, there arrived poets who took the art of rhyming to obsessive extremes, finally presenting a poetic form that, in terms of rhyming at least, could hold its own alongside and perhaps even surpass that of history's greatest.

Immortal innovators of the artform such as Rakim, Talib Kweli, Eminem, KRS One, Mos Def, Nas, Notorious BIG, Tupac Shakur, Sage Francis and Pharoahe Monch, took this rap rhyming to incredible depths, exploring all angles of their own vernacular, spitting intricate multi-syllable rhymed verses over irresistible hip hop beats and delivering their version of the Dolce Stil Novo to an insatiable world, and in the process proving, like Dante, that their Vulgar Vernacular could have global relevance in its eloquence.

So, to this project. The basic agenda being simply to retranslate the Inferno using some of the forms of Rap - Multi-syllabic rhyme patterns, driving beats - to reengage with this epic medieval poem, and maybe contribute to garnering it a new audience. Of course, being a mere beginner in this art form myself, I have done my best to do justice to both the form and the source material. Any seeming deficiencies in either are in fact mine, and I apologise in advance.

As references to the original poem, I have used the following editions

The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri Volume I Inferno, edited and translated by Robert M. Durling (Oxford University Press, 1996) - an excellent side by side translation with great commentary

The website Danteinferno.info which places the translations of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), Henry Francis Cary (December 6, 1772 - August 14, 1844) and Charles Eliot Norton (November 16, 1827 - October 21, 1908) alongside each other for easy comparison. I have to admit I favour the Longfellow translation, and have made liberal use of his ideas for this piece. www.danteinferno.info/translations/index.html

Finally, the superlative performance/lecture series 'Tutto Dante' from Roberto Benigni, in which he appeared night after sell-out night in the Piazza Santa Croce in Florence to deliver a commentary and reading (from memory) of the entire Inferno. It has been an indispensable resource, and is available on dvd www.amazon.co.uk/Tutto-Dante-01-I-II-III-Inferno/dp/B00170IRXE/ref=pd_sim_d_h__3

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released January 28, 2016

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Hugo The Poet Melbourne, Australia

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