Erect. Cold. Sneering at the bottom of the piazza, Flanked by a white marble cathedral Stands Dante. The winter sun approaches the meridian and burns the white church marble; A fiery curtain Illuminating Florentine geometry. His cowl drawn close His commanding look Stops the sun. He remains in blue shadow. The sun never lightens Dante Alighieri, His chthonic scriptures Make him an exile To terrestrial matters.