I spent an entire weekend last fall comparing twelve different English translations of nine Italian lines. Nine lines! The Gate of Hell inscription from Dante’s Inferno, Canto III. Those nine lines broke my heart open in twelve different ways.
What started as curiosity became obsession. Each translator made choices that fundamentally altered Hell’s entrance. Some shouted. Others whispered. A few tried to stay invisible.
This post shares what I discovered. It’s a masterclass in why translation matters—and why no single English version can capture everything Dante packed into Italian.
The Italian Text: Nine Lines That Changed Literature
First, here is what Dante actually wrote:
Per me si va ne la città dolente,
— Dante Alighieri, Inferno, Canto III, lines 1-9
per me si va ne l’etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore;
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapïenza e ‘l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate.
The Gate speaks. It speaks in first person. It claims to be eternal, created by Justice itself, and it demands we abandon hope.
Now let me break down what these lines literally say, word by word.
A Word-for-Word Translation
Line 1: “Per me si va ne la città dolente” = “Through me one goes into the city suffering/sorrowful”
Line 2: “per me si va ne l’etterno dolore” = “through me one goes into the eternal pain/sorrow”
Line 3: “per me si va tra la perduta gente” = “through me one goes among the lost/ruined people”
Line 4: “Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore” = “Justice moved my high/exalted maker”
Lines 5-6: “fecemi la divina podestate, / la somma sapïenza e ‘l primo amore” = “the divine power made me, / the highest wisdom and the first love”
Lines 7-8: “Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create / se non etterne, e io etterno duro” = “Before me there were not things created / except eternal ones, and I eternal endure”
Line 9: “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate” = “Leave every hope, you who enter”
That’s the skeleton. Now for the flesh.
Six Major Translations: How Translators Make Choices
1. Longfellow (1867): The Archaic Pioneer
Through me the way is to the city dolent;
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, translation (1867)
Through me the way is to eternal dole;
Through me the way among the people lost.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved;
To me theAllMighty Architect gave being;
The highest Wisdom and the Primal Love.
Before me things created were but few,
And all eternal,—and eternal I remain.
All hope abandon, ye who enter in!
Longfellow keeps “dolent”—an archaic English word meaning “sorrowful” or “grieving.” Why preserve archaic language for Hell’s gate? Because it signals another era, another world. Hell doesn’t speak in modern English. It speaks in the language of medieval theology.
Notice his “dole” for dolore. That’s archaic too. Longfellow makes the gate sound as old and strange as Hell itself—which is exactly what you want when entering the underworld.
His final line, “All hope abandon, ye who enter in,” uses imperative abandon and formal “ye.” It’s commanding, ceremonial, almost liturgical. The gate has authority here.
2. Ciardi (1954): The Shouting Gate
I AM THE WAY INTO THE CITY OF WOE.
— John Ciardi, translation (1954)
I AM THE WAY TO A PEOPLE LOST.
I AM THE WAY TO ETERNAL PAIN.
Justice it was that moved my Maker on;
In power, wisdom, and in love I’m made.
Before me were no things create but those
That have no end; and I, too, have no end.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
ALL CAPS. The gate is screaming.
Ciardi makes a bold choice: restructure the opening. Dante repeats “per me si va” three times (through me one goes). Ciardi captures that repetition differently—”I AM THE WAY” echoes Christ’s words to Thomas (“I am the way, the truth, and the life”). This Hell-gate mimics Christ’s language, which is theologically brilliant and unsettling.
His “ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE” is forceful. Not a plea. A command. The gate doesn’t ask—it demands your surrender. That said, Ciardi adds “HERE” which Dante doesn’t explicitly say.
3. Mandelbaum (1980): The Elegant Shouter
THROUGH ME THE WAY INTO THE SUFFERING CITY,
— Allen Mandelbaum, translation (1980)
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST.
Justice urged on my noble Maker; then
Divine omnipotence created me,
The highest wisdom and the primal love.
Before me nothing but eternal things were made,
And I, too, last eternally.
ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.
Mandelbaum stays with “THROUGH ME” three times, honoring Dante’s repetition more directly than Ciardi. In fact, he stays closer to the Italian structure overall—notice how his lines follow the original’s phrasing.
“The suffering city” is elegant. Not “city of woe” but “suffering city”—which makes the city itself an active participant in its own anguish. The city doesn’t merely experience suffering; it suffers.
His final line: “ABANDON EVERY HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.” He uses “every” rather than “all,” which is closer to “ogne” (every) in Italian. But again, he adds “HERE” that Dante doesn’t include.
4. Pinsky (1994): The Modernizer
THROUGH ME YOU ENTER INTO THE CITY OF WOES,
— Robert Pinsky, translation (1994)
THROUGH ME ETERNAL PAIN, THROUGH ME
YOU JOIN THE PEOPLE LOST TO HOPE.
Justice moved my High Creator’s hand.
I was made by Divine Authority,
By Highest Wisdom and by Primal Love.
Before me nothing but eternal things were made,
And I endure eternally.
ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE.
Pinsky adds “you” and “you join”—words that aren’t in the original Italian. He’s making Hell’s gate address the reader directly, more aggressively. “YOU ENTER,” “YOU JOIN.” The gate reaches out and grabs us.
This is a choice. Some translators keep the gate’s pronouncements abstract and universal. Pinsky makes it personal. When you read those lines, the gate is speaking to you.
His final line reverts to formal “yE”—a nod to Longfellow’s archaic tone. Interesting compromise between modern and medieval.
5. Hollander (2000): The Purist
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE CITY OF WOE,
— Robert Hollander, translation (2000)
THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL PAIN,
THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE PEOPLE LOST.
Justice it was that moved my Maker on;
Divine Authority, the Highest Wisdom,
and Primal Love created me.
No things of moment ever were created
Before me save eternal things alone;
I, too, endure eternally. Give up
All hope, you who are entering here.
Hollander stays closest to the Italian structure. He keeps the repetition of “THROUGH ME” intact. He preserves the Trinity reference explicitly: “Divine Authority, the Highest Wisdom, / and Primal Love.”
Notice his final line breaks convention. Rather than “ABANDON,” he uses “Give up”—weaker, perhaps, but more casual. His “you who are entering here” feels present-tense and immediate, as if we’re literally walking through the gate right now.
Hollander seems to prioritize fidelity over dramatic effect. The result is readable without being flashy.
6. Mary Jo Bang (2012): The Contemporary Voice
Through me you enter the city that grieves.
— Mary Jo Bang, translation (2012)
Through me you enter eternal pain.
Through me you enter where the lost people are.
My maker was moved by justice.
I was made by divine power,
by wisdom supreme, and by love first.
Nothing but eternal things existed before me,
and I too will last forever.
Give up every hope, you who are entering.
Bang uses lowercase. No caps. Hell’s gate doesn’t shout; it speaks plainly, almost conversationally. This is radical.
“The city that grieves”—she personifies the city. Not a city experiencing grief, but a city that actively grieves. It’s sentient. It mourns.
Her final line drops the exclamation point. “Give up every hope, you who are entering.” It’s stated as fact, almost resigned. No theatrical flourish. Just truth.
Bang brings Hell into our time. She removes the archaic distance. For a modern reader, this might be most powerful—because Hell feels contemporary, not medieval.
The Key Translation Battlegrounds
Battle 1: “La città dolente”—What Kind of City Is Hell?
Dolente is an adjective. It means sorrowful, grieving, suffering. In Italian, it’s poetic, almost lyrical—which is why “dolent” works in English even if we never say it. The city is beautiful in its suffering.
“City of woe” is traditional. It’s what English-speaking readers expect. But does it capture dolente‘s lyrical quality? Maybe not.
Mandelbaum’s “suffering city” shifts the emphasis. Suffering becomes an active verb. The city suffers—which makes Hell a place of participation, not just punishment.
Bang’s “city that grieves” is even more active. Grief is an emotion, an inward experience. Hell doesn’t just inflict pain; it grieves over itself.
Each translation creates a subtly different Hell. Which is closest to Dante’s vision? That depends on whether you think dolente is primarily aesthetic (Longfellow’s choice) or emotional (Bang’s choice).
Battle 2: “L’etterno dolore”—Can You Translate Infinity?
Dolore is broader than “woe” or “pain.” It encompasses sorrow, anguish, grief, suffering, distress. In English, no single word covers all that territory.
Longfellow uses “dole”—archaic and perfectly strange. It feels old, which is fitting for eternal suffering. Modern readers won’t recognize it, which creates distance. And distance is what you want in Hell.
Everyone else defaults to “pain” or “pain.” That’s safe. Dolore is indeed pain. But it’s also more—it’s the full emotional weight of suffering across an infinity of time.
None of the translations fully capture this. They can’t. English doesn’t have a word dense enough.
Battle 3: “La perduta gente”—Lost, Ruined, or Forlorn?
Perduta means lost, but more deeply. It means ruined, damned, forsaken. A person is perduta when they’re beyond recovery.
Translators mostly use “lost”—which is accurate but shallow. The word doesn’t convey that sense of irreversible ruin.
Only Bang subtly shifts this with “the people lost to hope.” She adds “to hope”—the people who’ve lost hope itself. This helps clarify what perduta means: the hopeless.
In fact, Pinsky does something similar: “the people lost to hope.” Dante doesn’t explicitly say “to hope,” but it’s implied by the entire gate’s message.
Battle 4: “Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore”—The Theological Bombshell
This line is crucial. Hell exists because of Justice. Not cruelty. Not arbitrary punishment. Justice.
The word fattore means maker or creator. But “fattore” also suggests architect, builder, craftsman.
