Dante. The Inferno (Hollander transl.)

Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost. (Inf. 1.1-3)

Paollo & Francesca:

"Love, quick to kindle in the gentle heart,
seized this man with the fair form taken from me.
The way of it afflicts me still.

Love, which absolves no one beloved from loving,
seized me so strongly with his charm that,
as you see, it has not left me yet.

Love brought us to one death.
Caina waits for him who quenched our lives....

... There is no greater sorrow
than to recall our time of joy
in wretchedness--and this your teacher knows.

But if you feel such longing
to know the first root of our love,
I shall tell as one who weeps in telling.

One day, to pass the time in pleasure,
we read of Lancelot, how love enthralled him.
We were alone, without the least misgiving.

More than once that reading made our eyes meet
and drained the color from our faces.
Still, it was a single instant overcame us:

When we read how the longed-for smile
was kissed by so renowned a lover, this man,
who never shall be parted from me,

all trembling, kissed me on my mouth.
A Galeotto was the book and he that wrote it.
That day we read no further. (Inf. 5.100-38)

On mentors:

But the mentor who had brought me there replied:
"Have no fear. None can prevent our passage,
so great a power granted it to us.

Wait for me here. Comfort your weary spirit
and feed it with good hope.
I will not forsake you in the nether world." (Inf. 8.103-108)

Lament for a teacher (here Brunetto Latini):

"If all my prayers were answered,"
I said to him, "You would not yet
be banished from mankind.

For I remember well and now lament
the cherished, kind, paternal image of You
when, there in the world, from time to time,

You taught me how man makes himself immortal.
And how much gratitude I owe for that
my tongue, while I still live, must give report." (Inf.15.7987)

On fame:

"Now must you cast off sloth," my master said.
"Sitting on feather cushions or stretched out
under comforters, no one comes to fame.

Without fame, he who spends his time on earth
leaves only such a mark upon the world
as smoke does on the air or foam on water." (Inf. 24. 46-51)

On fog:

As, when the mist is lifting,
little by little we discern things
hidden in the air made thick by fog. (Inf. 31.34-36)

On power:

For when the power of thought
is coupled with ill will and naked force
there is no refuge from it for mankind. (Inf. 31.55-57)

And for the terrifying story of Ugolino, gnawing forever at the head of his enemy, see Inf. 32.127 ff.

This is the Hollander translation of Dante, which I gather is better at its exhaustive and endlessly fascinating commentary than at the translation itself. One NYBReview, deftly comparing rhyme to the rocks that impede and alter the stream's flow, wrote of how much we lose when we fail to capture Dante's inter-locking terza rima. Having waited too long in my life to read Dante, I cannot say if this is so -- perhaps others will know of a "better" translation? In the meanwhile, Dante's haunting account of his journeys through the Inferno in Virgil's company is unexpectedly moving particularly because it is about the education of its narrator. Interminable references to Florentine figures and affairs make it difficult going, however -- and the commentary essential. I can't imagine how to teach this! Or, even, how to read it well.