I saw more than a thousand destroyed souls.
Fleeing like this in front of someone at the pass.
Styx passed with dry soles.
From his face he removed that greasy air.
Often moving his left hand forward;
Ah, how full of disdain he seemed to me!
He came to the door and with a little rod.
He opened it, and he had no restraint.
O banished from heaven, people of contempt,
He began on the horrible threshold,
Where does this outrage indulge in?
Then he turned towards the gross road,
/>And it doesn't make fun of us, but it makes a semblance.
From a man whose other care tightens and bites.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI