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¶ Di sotto al Nillo miglia septecento
E piu che la mita sabione e rena
Paese adusto per lo caldo vento
E non a acqua che surga di vena
Poi un monte de miglia trecento
Che vulgarmente se chiama charena
E de alteça molto smesurato
E ne le storie athlante chiamato

¶ Dal monte al mar e l’aria temperata
Che venti adusti non posson passare
Et in certa parte -e- men d'una giornata
E dove tre e quatro apresso al mare
E questa parte e asai populata
Bon terreni pomati e da fructare
E in su la cima per la grande altura
El piu el piu del tempo -e- neve e gran fredura

¶ De la dal monte sum caldi roventi
Populi radi e sterile terreno
Torrida çona e per li sichi venti
De venenose ferucole pieno
E de la terra omai son contenti
Ed a contare la marina vereno
Con l’aiuto de dio che cie lo mostra
Lo qual e stato -e fia la guida nostra

Seven hundred miles below the Nile,
more than half [of what you find] is dust and sand—
a country scorched by the hot wind
where no water emerges from any springs.
Then there is a mountain three hundred miles high,
which is commonly called Charena:
it is of soaring, unmeasurable heights
and is called Atlas in old stories.

From the mountain to the sea the air is mild
since the scorching winds cannot get through.
In certain areas, it is less than a day to the sea,
and [in others], three or four.
This area is well-populated,
with good orchard-covered lands that are fruitful,
and at the summit—because of the great height—
most of the time there is snow and great cold.

Beyond the mountain it is burning hot.
People are scarce and the land is sterile.
It is a torrid zone because of the dry winds
and is full of small poisonous creatures.
Now that we have finished with the land,
we shall continue with the sea
with the help of God, who shows it to us—
who has been and will be our guide.

¶ Di sotto al Nillo miglia septecento
E piu che la mita sabione e rena
Paese adusto per lo caldo vento
E non a acqua che surga di vena
Poi un monte de miglia trecento
Che vulgarmente se chiama charena
E de alteça molto smesurato
E ne le storie athlante chiamato

¶ Dal monte al mar e l’aria temperata
Che venti adusti non posson passare
Et in certa parte -e- men d'una giornata
E dove tre e quatro apresso al mare
E questa parte e asai populata
Bon terreni pomati e da fructare
E in su la cima per la grande altura
El piu el piu del tempo -e- neve e gran fredura

¶ De la dal monte sum caldi roventi
Populi radi e sterile terreno
Torrida çona e per li sichi venti
De venenose ferucole pieno
E de la terra omai son contenti
Ed a contare la marina vereno
Con l’aiuto de dio che cie lo mostra
Lo qual e stato -e fia la guida nostra

Seven hundred miles below the Nile,
more than half [of what you find] is dust and sand—
a country scorched by the hot wind
where no water emerges from any springs.
Then there is a mountain three hundred miles high,
which is commonly called Charena:
it is of soaring, unmeasurable heights
and is called Atlas in old stories.

From the mountain to the sea the air is mild
since the scorching winds cannot get through.
In certain areas, it is less than a day to the sea,
and [in others], three or four.
This area is well-populated,
with good orchard-covered lands that are fruitful,
and at the summit—because of the great height—
most of the time there is snow and great cold.

Beyond the mountain it is burning hot.
People are scarce and the land is sterile.
It is a torrid zone because of the dry winds
and is full of small poisonous creatures.
Now that we have finished with the land,
we shall continue with the sea
with the help of God, who shows it to us—
who has been and will be our guide.***