Having completed half my earthly life, / I found myself in a dark forest
The first lines from the poem “The Divine Comedy” (song “Hell”) by the Italian medieval poet and thinker Dante Alighieri (1265-1321):
Having completed half my earthly life,
I found myself in a dark forest,
Having lost the right path in the darkness of the valley.
Allegorically: about the “midlife crisis”; about confusion, self-doubt, and the depressed state of mind of a middle-aged man.

encyclopedic Dictionary winged words and expressions. - M.: “Locked-Press”. Vadim Serov. 2003.

See what “Having completed half my earthly life, / I found myself in a dark forest” in other dictionaries:

Dante Alighieri- (1265 1321) The great Italian poet, thinker, creator of the greatest of the creations of the medieval artistic culture poem "The Divine Comedy". This poetic mystery later became known as the “encyclopedia of Christian spirituality”... Aesthetics. encyclopedic Dictionary

- (English East Coker) the second part of the cycle of poems “Four Quartets” by Thomas Eliot. The element of the East Coker poem is earth, the color is black. Named after the village of East Coker in Somersetshire, where T. S. Eliot's ancestors lived and from where they emigrated to Boston in... ... Wikipedia

midlife crisis-    MIDDLE-LIFE CRISIS (p. 332)    “Having completed half my earthly life, I found myself in a dark forest, having lost the right path in the darkness of the valley...” None of us has Dante’s poetic gift, but for many at a certain time in life it comes to mind … … Great psychological encyclopedia

Terzina poem (solid form), written in terzets with a special rhyme pattern and a final free-standing verse. Rhyme pattern: aba bcb cdc … xyx yzy z. The undulating overlap of the rhyme gives the poem written... ... Wikipedia

tercet- (from Italian terzetto lat. tertius third) type of stanza: a stanza of three poetic lines (verses) with the predominant rhyme schemes: aaa (all three verses rhyme), aab (two verses rhyme, but the third does not). Special view terza tercet... Dictionary of literary terms

terza rima- (from Latin terra rima third rhyme) a stanza of three verses that rhyme in such a way that the series of thirds forms a continuous chain of triple rhymes: aba bvb vgv, etc. and closes on a separate line, rhymed with the middle verse of the last terza.... ... Terminological dictionary-thesaurus in literary studies

I first read this poem in the magazine “Science and Life” in the early 70s. The article talked about Count Rezanov, and downstairs, in the “basement,” this poem was published.
I was not delighted with the form - I stumbled either due to the lack of rhyme, or on disproportionate and unjustifiably unequal lines - as if I was walking on sleepers.
But the poem struck the last chord - the words “Concha dressed in black, rose from the table...” still cause a shiver.
For a long time I remembered, although distorted, precisely these last lines - In silence... the crowd froze. Cum in a black robe rose from the table... Only under a white hood..."

I searched for this poem for a long time when the opportunity arose - and through the Internet. It was all to no avail. I couldn’t find the combination “Concha in a black robe...” anywhere - but I was looking for exactly these words.
And then somehow it dawned on me, and I typed in about the white hood - and immediately the lost text was discovered on the first page of the search engine. Then it became clear what a joke my imperfect memory played.

Many years after I first read it, I re-read this poem, still in awe at the end.
Nothing changed.
I just started thinking - maybe it’s not the author? He didn’t write it that way, but the translator couldn’t adequately display it in another language.
I don't know if this is true.

I still enjoy some interesting rhymes, I still get a thrill at the end - I so vividly imagine this young almost girl who waited so patiently and was so terribly rewarded for her patience and devotion.

Here... I leave it as a souvenir...

I

Among the hills close to the sea -
the fortress is strange in appearance,
Here is the monastery of the Franciscans
preserves the memory of the past.
Their patron father suddenly became godfather
became a stranger to the city, -
The angel has a wonderful face here
with a golden branch shone.
Ancient coats of arms, trophies
irrevocably swept away,
An alien flag flies here, flying
over the ancient stones.
Gaps and scars of siege,
there are a lot of them on the walls here,
Just for a moment glances
the curious will be attracted.
Wonderful golden thread
only love could weave
In a harsh, simple fabric, -
that love did not die.
Only love is constant
revives even now
These gloomy walls -
listen to the story about her.

II

Count Rezanov was once here,
ambassador of the Russian Tsar,
Near the embrasures of the cannons
had an important conversation.
About politics with the authorities
he started a conversation
Discussing with them
Treaty on the Union.
There with the Spanish commandant
the daughter was beautiful,
The Count spoke to her privately
about matters of the heart.
We discussed all the conditions,
point by point, everything in a row,
And it ended with Love
what the Diplomat started.
The peace treaty is successful
the count finished with the authorities,
Like your loving marriage partner,
and hurried north.
The engaged couple said goodbye
at dawn by the rock,
Set out on a journey across the ocean
boldly Russian Eagles.

III

Near the embrasures of the cannons
waited, looking into the distance,
That the groom-ambassador will return
to them with an answer from the king.
Day after day the wind blew from the sea
into embrasures, into rock crevices,
Day after day the deserted light
Pacific Ocean sparkled.
The weeks went by and she turned white
sand dunes,
The weeks went by and it got dark
distance, dressed in forests.
But the rains suddenly bring a fresh wind
brought from the southwest,
The entire coastline is blooming,
the thunder of the thunderstorms died down.
The weather changes, in the summer -
dry, rainy - in spring.
It blooms every six months,
and six months - dust and heat.
They just don't come with news,
letters from a foreign land
To the commandant and the bride
they don't bring ships.
Sometimes she's sad
I heard a silent call.
“He will come,” the flowers whispered,
“Never,” rushed from the hills.
How alive he appeared to her
in the quiet splash of sea waves.
If the ocean rose -
her fiancé disappeared.
And she strove for him,
and the darkness of the cheeks turned pale,
A tear was hidden between the eyelashes,
and in the eyes - a silent reproach.
And they trembled reproachfully
lips, petals more tender,
And a capricious wrinkle
the wrinkled eyebrows frowned.
Near the guns in the embrasures
commandant, stern and strict,
By the wisdom of old proverbs
I consoled my daughter as best I could.
There are many of them from our ancestors
he kept in his soul,
Rare gem stones
carried the stream of his speeches:
“Wait for the rider in the parking lot,”
you have to be patient"
"To the exhausted maid
It will be difficult to churn the butter,"
"He who collects honey for himself
will attract a lot of flies"
“Only time will sweep away the miller,”
"Even a mole can see in the dark"
"The alcalde's son is not afraid
punishment and trial"
After all, the count has reasons
he will explain himself then."
And proverbs abound
strewn speech,
Changing her tone, she began
flow smoothly in Castilian style.
Again "Concha", "Conchitita"
and "Conchita" without end
They began to repeat themselves loudly
in the father's affectionate speech.
So with proverbs, with affection,
in anticipation and longing,
Hope flared up
and flickered in the distance.

IV

Cavalcades every year
appeared from the mountains in the distance,
They are fun for the shepherds
They brought joy to the girls.
The days of feasting have come,
rural holiday fun, -
Bullfighting, shooting and horse racing,
a noisy carnival for everyone.
In vain for the commandant's daughter
until midnight in the morning
They sang serenades
with a tenor guitar.
In vain are the daredevils at the races
the handkerchief she threw,
Leaning down from the saddles, they grabbed
from under the mustangs' feet.
Vainly festive joy
bright raincoats bloomed,
Disappearing with the cavalcade
in a dusty cloud in the distance.
Drum, sentry step
heard from the fortress wall,
Commandant and daughter again
must live alone.
Unbreakable daily circle
small affairs, labors, worries,
Celebration with melodious music
It blooms only once a year.

V

Forty years of siege of the fort
the ocean wind led
Since then it's proud to go north
The Russian eagle flew off.
Forty years stronghold of the fort
time has crumbled more and more,
St. George's Cross at the Port
raised proudly Monterey.
The citadel was all in bloom,
the hall is magnificently decorated,
Famous traveler
Sir George Simpson shone there.
A lot of people gathered
to a gala banquet,
The guest accepted all congratulations,
English baronet.
There were speeches, toasts,
and the table noise died down.
Someone out loud carelessly
I remembered how the groom disappeared.
Then Sir George Simpson exclaimed:
“No, it’s not the groom’s fault!
He died, the poor guy died
forty years ago.
Died on the way to Russia
During the race, the count fell with his horse.
And the bride is probably married
went out, forgetting about him.
Is she alive?" Reply
no, the whole crowd froze.
Concha, dressed in black,
rose from the table.
Only under the white hood
looked straight at him
Burnt black coal
mournful and mad look.
"Is she alive?" - In silence
the words came out clearly
Cum in a black robe:
"No, senor, she is dead!"

“Having completed half my earthly life,
I found myself in a dark forest,
Having lost the right path in the darkness of the valley.

What he was like, oh, as I say,
That wild forest, dense and threatening,
Whose old horror I carry in my memory!

The opening lines of Dante Alighieri The Divine Comedy
(translation by M. Lozinsky)

Suddenly it became scary - half of life...
I'm not in the forest, but still in the dark.
I lived easily, carelessly and innocently.
And here’s the result: all the values ​​are wrong!

And this forest resembles something.
A thought-guess flashes - am I in hell?
No. I drove it away - it’s for an idiot...
But still, I’m in the forest, heading towards the mountain...

I rush around, looking for Virgil naively...
But Alighieri is not that kind of me.
Of course, the lynx comes out. Here's a picture!
It's like an endless joke.

She comes closer. It's a snow leopard!
This is how we met a hundred thousand years ago...
She then led me and the crisis
I wasn't afraid. And now I'm glad...

Take me to heaven or to hell - I agree!
She showed me the way to the gate...
First to Hell! And our world was beautiful... -
I thought... But who hasn’t suffered?

“Abandon hope, all who enter here!”
The inscription in the sky burned with fire.
And I quickly wrote down in my notebook:
“No, I won’t leave, even if I play “The Box” ...”

Notes in the margins: “I’ll wake up now!”
I'm only sixteen! Or even less...
All this is nonsense and a dream! Funny Sadness
I'm captured and I'm exposed

Self-hypnosis... And yet I'm afraid...
“Abandon hope...” doubt burns me
My Hell follows me everywhere!
I remember this wonderful moment...

In front of me... oh yes, not that... not here..
And not now. Another adventure.
And this was definitely not the case with me...

OK it's all over Now! I am Alighieri in the past...
But in this life I am completely different.
Half of life means only half of loss.
And the same amount more. And it’s easy for me!

I'm glad I was. And let it not be enough!
So much that I can hardly say it -
Life is endless... it even became scary...
I found myself in a dark forest.

Reviews

And is it possible to say in words,
Here was a man... and he came out...
That he is no longer with us.
He's looking at us from somewhere above.
Why is there so much missing?
His special smiles!
Now only God knows
What roads without any or...

I remember him, period.
There aren't many good ones like that.
He was not followed in the lines
good and bad.
Friends will remember... I'm with them
the silence of dots,
How we were born different
among our relatives and others.

The soul of the poet became silent...
He is in the memory of those who are alive.
Let it be neither this nor that...
But it was really beautiful...

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It's funny about magic, it's serious about magic Kartavtsev Vladislav

“Having completed half my earthly life...”

“Having completed half my earthly life,

I found myself in a dark forest,

Having lost the right path in the darkness of the valley.

What he was like, oh, as I say,

That wild forest, dense and threatening,

Whose old horror I carry in my memory!

He is so bitter that death is almost sweeter.

But, having found goodness in it forever,

I’ll tell you about everything I saw in this thicket...”

Alighieri Dante "The Divine Comedy"

In the thickness rock At the very foot of the mountain there is a small cozy cave modestly perched. Lived in a cave Echo. It has settled here for a long time. He liked the peace and quiet that reigned around him. Echo was unassuming and preferred solitude. The concept of time was unfamiliar to him. As a matter of fact, it was time itself, or rather, time was part of it. Echo contemplated. Nothing around escaped his gaze. Echo knew everything and was happy about everything. Echo contemplated. Contemplated planets, stars, galaxies, contemplated time, contemplated life and death. Echo was everything. Everything that existed was part of it, and everything had its own meaning.

For billions of years, no one and nothing disturbed his peace. But one day a piece of attention Echo was attracted by the unfamiliar noise coming from outside. Having experienced some semblance of interest, Echo I decided to look out of my cave and was surprised to find a young tree that had recently grown at the very entrance. A family of small creatures settled at its roots - some new, unfamiliar Echo view.

Yielding to a sudden impulse, Echo decided to study them more closely. The little creatures didn't pay attention Echo no attention, which allowed him to examine each of them in detail, separately.

“In general, nothing special,” he decided. Echo. – You never know how many of them there have already been, and how many more there will be!

And calmly retreated back into the cave. And went back to his work favorite hobby- contemplate. True, sometimes fragments of thoughts of small creatures reached him. They really wanted to live and always wanted to eat. Echo graciously allowed and even sometimes threw them small gifts in the form of a successful hunt or a bountiful harvest. The little creatures were always happy and grateful. Only for some reason they chose as the object of their gratitude some nondescript wooden or stone idols, comically spreading their short arms and glaring menacingly at the little creatures dancing around them.

- How interesting! - I thought about Echo,- maybe we should tell them what it is I Do I help them? It might make sense to do this next time!

Years and decades passed. Centuries and millennia faded into oblivion, but what did this mean for Echo meaning? And only the slightly increased noise outside sometimes attracted his attention. And then one day Echo I decided to look out of my cave again.

But that's not what attracted attention Echo. It seemed to him that some of the little creatures began to worship Echo! This couldn't happen - after all Echo never told anyone about its existence! But it was! Certainly, Echo did not need anyone's support, gratitude or approval. It simply was, and it was everything. But he was pleased!

So, stop, stop! We are all educated people! Modern! WITH higher education or even two or three. And no one demands from us a direct answer to the question: “Do you believe in God?” - like: “Have you signed up as a volunteer?” And each of us is free to choose what to believe. Either to communism, or to aliens, or to the ancients! Yes, the ancients are such super-beings, a kind of explosive mixture of Atlanteans, Aryans and ancient Ukrainians. With an admixture of aliens, again.

Sometimes you can hear something like this: “I don’t believe in anything!”, or: “I’m an atheist!”, or: “I believe in science!” But honestly, it sounds best: “And I’m a hipster! In general, I don’t give a damn!”

But, dear ones, no one cares what you believe in! The only really interesting question is: what are you do you know? You know for sure. For sure! One hundred percent! And you can prove it. Or show

- How can you prove it? - they may ask you if you take it upon yourself to tell someone about someone hidden knowledge, which you may own. After all, you don’t have photo and video materials with, for example, Jesus Christ or Buddha captured on them!

Remember the “seventh proof” from “The Master and Margarita”? Wouldn’t you like to have the same opportunity as Bulgakov’s Woland, if necessary, to provide, so to speak, “irrefutable evidence”? I want to? Maybe yes. How about ruling the world? Yes too?

Both are not in our control. But still, admit honestly, “ secret knowledge“Does that sound tempting?

From the book The Art of Mental Healing by Wallis Amy

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