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Here we are.
Talking, not in my "studio", but in front of the Lake, we've decided to post the very beginning of the La Divina Commedia. Inferno - Vol. I di 6 that we are reading right now as a readalong.

Here's the original:
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,
ché la diritta via era smarrita.
Ahi quanto a dir qual era è cosa dura
esta selva selvaggia e aspra e forte
che nel pensier rinova la paura!
Tant'è amara che poco è più morte;
ma per trattar del ben ch'i' vi trovai,
dirò de l'altre cose ch'i' v'ho scorte.
Io non so ben ridir com'i' v'intrai,
tant'era pien di sonno a quel punto
che la verace via abbandonai.
Ma poi ch'i' fui al piè d'un colle giunto,
là dove terminava quella valle
che m'avea di paura il cor compunto,
guardai in alto, e vidi le sue spalle
vestite già de' raggi del pianeta
che mena dritto altrui per ogne calle.
Allor fu la paura un poco queta,
che nel lago del cor m'era durata
la notte ch'i' passai con tanta pieta.
E come quei che con lena affannata,
uscito fuor del pelago a la riva,
si volge a l'acqua perigliosa e guata,
così l'animo mio, ch'ancor fuggiva,
si volse a retro a rimirar lo passo
che non lasciò già mai persona viva.

Here's an "old" translation by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.

So bitter is it, death is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.

I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of slumber at the moment
In which I had abandoned the true way.

But after I had reached a mountain's foot,
At that point where the valley terminated,
Which had with consternation pierced my heart,

Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
Vested already with that planet's rays
Which leadeth others right by every road.

Then was the fear a little quieted
That in my heart's lake had endured throughout
The night, which I had passed so piteously.

And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,
Turns to the water perilous and gazes;

So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
Turn itself back to re-behold the pass
Which never yet a living person left.

And here's a more "modern" one, by Clive James
At the mid-point of the path through life, I found
Myself lost in a wood so dark, the way
Ahead was blotted out. The keening sound
I still make shows how hard it is to say
How harsh and bitter that place felt to me�
Merely to think of it renews the fear�
So bad that death by only a degree
Could possibly be worse. As you shall hear,
It led to good things too, eventually,
But there and then I saw no sign of those,
And can’t say even now how I had come
To be there, stunned and following my nose
Away from the straight path. And then, still numb
From pressure on the heart, still in a daze,
I stumbled on the threshold of a hill
Where trees no longer grew. Lifting my gaze,
I saw its shoulders edged with overspill
From our sure guide, the sun, whose soothing rays
At least a little melted what that night
Of dread had done to harden my heart’s lake�
And like someone who crawls, half dead with fright,
Out of the sea, and breathes, and turns to take
A long look at the water, so my soul,
Still thinking of escape from the dark wood
I had escaped, looked back to see it whole,
The force field no one ever has withstood
And stayed alive.

Thanks for providing 2 different translations :)

While I like the rhyme and meter of Longfellow's translation (no surprise there!), James' is much more comprehensible to me. My knowledge of Dante is meager, but this strikes me as similar to Milton's Paradise Lost (the little I read before I gave up)...

Never read Moliton's work - just few pages for Uni. Not much more of DAnte's one - that's what I'm planning to do now!
Dante was a bit earlier than Milton, closer to Chauser, also because he was the first poet to use italian instead of latin for an extensive poem. And more than the glory of God - which of course he sang - he depicted the history of Italy and Italians: he put in Hell all those he couldn't stand - and they were many, belive me! - and sanctified all those he admired, definitly less.
Also in italian it is not so easy to read. A part from the linguistic difficoulties, which are not few having been written around the beginning of the XIV century, also because of all immmages and simbols that are not so clear now for us ...

LauraT wrote: "Never read Moliton's work - just few pages for Uni. Not much more of DAnte's one - that's what I'm planning to do now!
Dante was a bit earlier than Milton, closer to Chauser, also because he was th..."

I re-read only the first canto and I found the language more fluid than when I had read it in high school, I don't know the reason... Maybe because now I read it for pleasure...
But it's frustrating not to understand all the images (for example the "veltro")!

Eleonora wrote: "LauraT wrote: "Never read Moliton's work - just few pages for Uni. Not much more of DAnte's one - that's what I'm planning to do now!
Dante was a bit earlier than Milton, closer to Chauser, also be..."

I also asked who this veltro was to the italian teacher of my son: she says that no ones knows for certain; it is one of the most obscure profecies in the whole Commedia.
As my philology teacher used to say - and I keep repeating it also here - when a cultural horizon dies, the interpretation keys are often going missing

This is my first experience of Dante - it is powerful stuff!

I think the translation by Clive James speaks with more resonance to a modern reader. Although I quite like Longfellow's formal structure, Clive James's version is far more emotive for me.

Thank you for posting this, and nudging me further forward on my "road of fear" towards Dante!

I also liked Longfellow's translation best. It looked closer to the original. I admit that the second one is a bit more clear ... just a bit!

LauraT wrote: "I also liked Longfellow's translation best. It looked closer to the original. I admit that the second one is a bit more clear ... just a bit!"

I especially like the opening:

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

Not only is it evocative imagery, but I can relate to the sentiment!

yes

How fascinating to compare the two translations - I too prefer the more contemporary translation ( had no idea the Clive James was so talented - if indeed it is the same Clive James I am thinking of!)

Yes it is! (Unless there are three!) I was amazed as I'd just thought of him as a witty columnist for "The Observer" newspaper, and a TV personality; an Australian living in Britain. I only recently learned of his intellectual accomplishments!