The devil is not as black as he is painted.” -Dante - Dante Alighieri

ché due nature mai a fronte a fronte

At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.

"The broken branch hissed loudly, and then that
wind was converted into these words: "Briefly will
you be answered.
When the fierce soul departs from the body from
which it has uprooted itself, Minos sends it to the
seventh mouth.
It falls into the wood, and no place is assigned to
it, but where chance hurls it, there it sprouts like a
grain of spelt.
It grows into a shoot, then a woody plant; the
Harpies, feeding on its leaves, give it pain and a
window for the pain.
Like the others, we will come for our remains, but
not so that any may put them on again, for it is not
just to have what one has taken from oneself.
Here we will drag them, and through the sad
wood our corpses will hang, each on the thornbrush
of the soul that harmed it.