“As when his earliest shaft of light assails
The city where his Maker shed His blood,
When Ebro lies beneath the lifted Scales [i.e., midnight]
And noontide scorches down on Ganges’ flood,
So rode the sun; thus day was nightward winging
When there before us God’s glad angel stood.”
— Purgatorio, XXVII, 1–6, tr. Sayers
The city where his Maker shed His blood,
When Ebro lies beneath the lifted Scales [i.e., midnight]
And noontide scorches down on Ganges’ flood,
So rode the sun; thus day was nightward winging
When there before us God’s glad angel stood.”
— Purgatorio, XXVII, 1–6, tr. Sayers
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