Inferno III/VI - War From A Harlots Mouth

Through me you pass into the city of woe

Through me you pass into eternal pain

All hope abandon, ye who enter here

Accents of anger, voices hoarse

Made up a tumult that forever whirls

From his bounds heaven drove them forth

Hell receives them

No hope may entertain

The tribe of those ill spirits both

To god displeasing and to his foes

Mercy and justice scorn them both

God and their parents they blasphemed

Drawn to the cursed strand

That every man must pass

Who fears not god

Charon, demoniac form

With eyes of burning coal

Collects them all

Now let us to the blind world there beneath

And entering the first circle that surrounds the abyss

No plaint was heard, except of sighs

Not caused by tortures, but from grief

For these defects and for no other evil

We are lost, desiring without hope

And to a part I come where no light shines