Genur.art

The Second Circle: The Lustful** I came into a place mute of all light, which bellows as the sea does in a tempest, if by opposing winds it is combated. The infernal hurricane that never rests hurtles the spirits onward in its rapine; whirling them round, and smiting, it molests them. When they arrive before the precipice, there are the shrieks, the plaints, and the laments, there they blaspheme the puissance divine. I understood that unto such a torment the carnal malefactors were condemned, who reason subjugate to appetite. And as the wings of starlings bear them on in the cold season in large band and full, so doth that blast the spirits maledict; it hither, thither, downward, upward, drives them; no hope doth comfort them for evermore, not of repose, but even of lesser pain.