Portrait of an Infernal Lady, or an Anagram, or a New Translation of Dante’s Inferno, Canto I, Lines I-III

Here a wind erodes the dead

rib of a forsaken woman, mired

in the mud of toil.

A cleft path sways my will.

But fault us yet –

About the middle of life’s onward way,

I found myself within a darksome dell,

Because from the true path I went astray.

—Claudia Hamilton Ramsay, 1862

we, led by fiendish wiles,

work – plod – to awaken

from this dim wood of wronging.

Way ahead, on a hill, the sun rowdy

at your feet,

Midway this way of life we’re bound upon,

I woke to find myself in a dark wood,

Where the right road was wholly lost and gone

—Dorothy Sayers, 1949

you dance as freedom, the wrath

of kali: wild, jarring – the earth

spins, unhooking

sinusoids, time distorts,

and – reality

dawns – daddy law

I was a Pilgrim that had turned, astray

Within a trackless wood;

And in the middle of Life’s journeying way

In shrouded darkness stood.

—Caroline Potter, 1896

defeated – died.

Seeing that odd

hip, naked breast, swing –

I do ache to root my labour

in this hollow. Let it flower

soft, half hidden

All in the middle of the road of life

I stood bewildered in a dusky wood –

The path being lost that once showed

straight and rife.

—Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1845

in moonlit seeds of decaying

wood that waft along the sky – and

I replace a surplus I took, now a million

times owed.

Few fled, pleaded

Stopped mid-motion in the middle

Of what we call our life, I looked up and saw no sky –

Only a dense cage of leaf, tree, and twig.

I was lost.

—Mary Jo Bang, 2012

with you to return their life –

a far, old joy. No – I act. Make my way

sowing soft fields homeward.

As,

Midway in the journey of our life

I came to myself in a dark wood,

for the straight way was lost.

—Jean & Robert Hollander, 2002

Ayah, I’m reminded of night

stories we’d enjoy.

I knew of no

raw fury diffusing out your

asafoetida armpits –

hell hath

Upon the journey of our life, midway,

Within a forest dark I found again

Myself, for I had missed the one straight way.

—Eleanor Vinton Murray, 1920

no whiff, so –

you served

ma tea. Covert pout

bunched your sari,

you cleaned

from under the chandelier:

a plan, a window.

Old limbo,

In the mid pathway of our earthly travel

Encompassed by a wood obscure I found me,

Where I no road could find, no clue unravel.

—Charlotte Yonge, 1869

from which you asked

that Guide to

lead a riot

down

to humanity.

And rid our air, flesh of selfish

norms.

If –

Midway in the course of this our

human life I found myself in a dark wood,

for I had lost the straight road.

—Clara Stillman Reed, 1962

You stole the justice

god fashioned off her

rib, plunged it in our world.

No feat effaced mayhem

afore. Now,

calmly my eye of

Halfway along the journey of our lifetime

I found myself deep in a gloomy forest

For the direct way had become confused.

—Mary Prentice Lillie, 1958

woe regards you.

In my hand the dues – you,

who life failed, foul

world injured – now wail,

whoop.

Don’t forget it – Ayah,

remember

Upon the journey of our life midway

I roused and found me in a gloomy wood,

Where all bewildered was the forthright way.

—Eleanor Prescott Hammond, 1919

me –

find my will – midway

in this wood – swift dusk

of life – you sent me to –

Ayah,

In the midtime of life I found myself

Within a dusky wood; My way was lost.

—Edith Mary Shaw, 1914

save me – I am

nuzzled in revolution’s

aromatic armpit – a radical

narrative – this lair is covert –

a dréam.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita

mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,

ché la diritta via era smarrita.

—Dante Alighieri, 1320