Hellish Hearsay

Ah, Ravenna: the sun gazes at thee

Like an enraptured lover, enchanted

By your sophistication and beauty

But your denizens have to me granted

Nary a moment of sweet, silent peace

They gape and jabber and gawk as I pass

And their horrified cries only increase

If I glower at some young lad or lass

And mutter darkly about Hell’s grim map

For local folklore and gossip imply

That I, Dante, did traverse the great gap

Between this world and others, both ghastly

And paradisiacal, for the sake

Of magic poems, which I love to make