The Divine Poet

It's beyond reasonable dispute - in my head, anyway - that the Florentine genius Dante Alighieri was the greatest poet who ever lived. If you've not read his Divine Comedy you missed a huge, life-changing experience. There are excellent English translations with enough notes to guide you through the trickier bits.

I've loved Dante since discovering him in my early twenties, and I've read the Comedy numerous times in a range of translations. He has shaped my thinking about so many things, not least the profound extent of the love of God. One of the four books I brought with me is a copy of the Comedy. Some have called it the Fifth Gospel, which might sound a bit overblown or heretical ... unless you actually read it.

Today I walked through streets of Dante's city, saw the church where he prayed, the homes of the great families whose lives dominated his, the Chestnut Tower where he exercised his office as Prior of the city.

And I visited his home. Or, at least, a reconstruction on the rough site where it originally stood. I looked around the excellent museum and drank in the Dantean air.

I don't have words to describe how wonderful all this was. Find a copy, read it for thirty years or so, let it steep into your soul, then come visit for yourself. You'll see what I mean.

All' alta fantasia qui mancò possa;

ma già volgeva il mio disiro e il velle,

sì come rota ch' egualmente è mossa,

L' amor che move il sole e l' altre stelle.

///pasta.distract.dangerously