De Rerum Natura
Lucretius
Lucretius. De Rerum Natura. William Ellery Leonard. E. P. Dutton. 1916.
- An image too may be
- From mirror into mirror handed on,
- Until of idol-films even five or six
- Have thus been gendered. For whatever things
- Shall hide back yonder in the house, the same,
- However far removed in twisting ways,
- May still be all brought forth through bending paths
- And by these several mirrors seen to be
- Within the house, since nature so compels
- All things to be borne backward and spring off
- At equal angles from all other things.
- To such degree the image gleams across
- From mirror unto mirror; where 'twas left
- It comes to be the right, and then again
- Returns and changes round unto the left.
- Again, those little sides of mirrors curved
- Proportionate to the bulge of our own flank
- Send back to us their idols with the right
- Upon the right; and this is so because
- Either the image is passed on along
- From mirror unto mirror, and thereafter,
- When twice dashed off, flies back unto ourselves;
- Or else the image wheels itself around,
- When once unto the mirror it has come,
- Since the curved surface teaches it to turn
- To usward. Further, thou might'st well believe
- That these film-idols step along with us
- And set their feet in unison with ours
- And imitate our carriage, since from that
- Part of a mirror whence thou hast withdrawn
- Straightway no images can be returned.
- Further, our eye-balls tend to flee the bright
- And shun to gaze thereon; the sun even blinds,
- If thou goest on to strain them unto him,
- Because his strength is mighty, and the films
- Heavily downward from on high are borne
- Through the pure ether and the viewless winds,
- And strike the eyes, disordering their joints.
- So piecing lustre often burns the eyes,
- Because it holdeth many seeds of fire
- Which, working into eyes, engender pain.
- Again, whatever jaundiced people view
- Becomes wan-yellow, since from out their bodies
- Flow many seeds wan-yellow forth to meet
- The films of things, and many too are mixed
- Within their eye, which by contagion paint
- All things with sallowness.
- Again, we view
- From dark recesses things that stand in light,
- Because, when first has entered and possessed
- The open eyes this nearer darkling air,
- Swiftly the shining air and luminous
- Followeth in, which purges then the eyes
- And scatters asunder of that other air
- The sable shadows, for in large degrees
- This air is nimbler, nicer, and more strong.
- And soon as ever 'thas filled and oped with light
- The pathways of the eyeballs, which before
- Black air had blocked, there follow straightaway
- Those films of things out-standing in the light,
- Provoking vision- what we cannot do
- From out the light with objects in the dark,
- Because that denser darkling air behind
- Followeth in, and fills each aperture
- And thus blockades the pathways of the eyes
- That there no images of any things
- Can be thrown in and agitate the eyes.
- And when from far away we do behold
- The squared towers of a city, oft
- Rounded they seem,- on this account because
- Each distant angle is perceived obtuse,
- Or rather it is not perceived at all;
- And perishes its blow nor to our gaze
- Arrives its stroke, since through such length of air
- Are borne along the idols that the air
- Makes blunt the idol of the angle's point
- By numerous collidings. When thuswise
- The angles of the tower each and all
- Have quite escaped the sense, the stones appear
- As rubbed and rounded on a turner's wheel-
- Yet not like objects near and truly round,
- But with a semblance to them, shadowily.
- Likewise, our shadow in the sun appears
- To move along and follow our own steps
- And imitate our carriage- if thou thinkest
- Air that is thus bereft of light can walk,
- Following the gait and motion of mankind.
- For what we use to name a shadow, sure
- Is naught but air deprived of light. No marvel:
- Because the earth from spot to spot is reft
- Progressively of light of sun, whenever
- In moving round we get within its way,
- While any spot of earth by us abandoned
- Is filled with light again, on this account
- It comes to pass that what was body's shadow
- Seems still the same to follow after us
- In one straight course. Since, evermore pour in
- New lights of rays, and perish then the old,
- Just like the wool that's drawn into the flame.
- Therefore the earth is easily spoiled of light
- And easily refilled and from herself
- Washeth the black shadows quite away.
- And yet in this we don't at all concede
- That eyes be cheated. For their task it is
- To note in whatsoever place be light,
- In what be shadow: whether or no the gleams
- Be still the same, and whether the shadow which
- Just now was here is that one passing thither,
- Or whether the facts be what we said above,
- 'Tis after all the reasoning of mind
- That must decide; nor can our eyeballs know
- The nature of reality. And so
- Attach thou not this fault of mind to eyes,
- Nor lightly think our senses everywhere
- Are tottering. The ship in which we sail
- Is borne along, although it seems to stand;
- The ship that bides in roadstead is supposed
- There to be passing by. And hills and fields
- Seem fleeing fast astern, past which we urge
- The ship and fly under the bellying sails.
- The stars, each one, do seem to pause, affixed
- To the ethereal caverns, though they all
- Forever are in motion, rising out
- And thence revisiting their far descents
- When they have measured with their bodies bright
- The span of heaven. And likewise sun and moon
- Seem biding in a roadstead,- objects which,
- As plain fact proves, are really borne along.
- Between two mountains far away aloft
- From midst the whirl of waters open lies
- A gaping exit for the fleet, and yet
- They seem conjoined in a single isle.
- When boys themselves have stopped their spinning round,
- The halls still seem to whirl and posts to reel,
- Until they now must almost think the roofs
- Threaten to ruin down upon their heads.
- And now, when nature begins to lift on high
- The sun's red splendour and the tremulous fires,
- And raise him o'er the mountain-tops, those mountains-
- O'er which he seemeth then to thee to be,
- His glowing self hard by atingeing them
- With his own fire- are yet away from us
- Scarcely two thousand arrow-shots, indeed
- Oft scarce five hundred courses of a dart;
- Although between those mountains and the sun
- Lie the huge plains of ocean spread beneath
- The vasty shores of ether, and intervene
- A thousand lands, possessed by many a folk
- And generations of wild beasts. Again,
- A pool of water of but a finger's depth,
- Which lies between the stones along the pave,
- Offers a vision downward into earth
- As far, as from the earth o'erspread on high
- The gulfs of heaven; that thus thou seemest to view
- Clouds down below and heavenly bodies plunged
- Wondrously in heaven under earth.
- Then too, when in the middle of the stream
- Sticks fast our dashing horse, and down we gaze
- Into the river's rapid waves, some force
- Seems then to bear the body of the horse,
- Though standing still, reversely from his course,
- And swiftly push up-stream. And wheresoe'er
- We cast our eyes across, all objects seem
- Thus to be onward borne and flow along
- In the same way as we. A portico,
- Albeit it stands well propped from end to end
- On equal columns, parallel and big,
- Contracts by stages in a narrow cone,
- When from one end the long, long whole is seen,-
- Until, conjoining ceiling with the floor,
- And the whole right side with the left, it draws
- Together to a cone's nigh-viewless point.
- To sailors on the main the sun he seems
- From out the waves to rise, and in the waves
- To set and bury his light- because indeed
- They gaze on naught but water and the sky.
- Again, to gazers ignorant of the sea,
- Vessels in port seem, as with broken poops,
- To lean upon the water, quite agog;
- For any portion of the oars that's raised
- Above the briny spray is straight, and straight
- The rudders from above. But other parts,
- Those sunk, immersed below the water-line,
- Seem broken all and bended and inclined
- Sloping to upwards, and turned back to float
- Almost atop the water. And when the winds
- Carry the scattered drifts along the sky
- In the night-time, then seem to glide along
- The radiant constellations 'gainst the clouds
- And there on high to take far other course
- From that whereon in truth they're borne. And then,
- If haply our hand be set beneath one eye
- And press below thereon, then to our gaze
- Each object which we gaze on seems to be,
- By some sensation twain- then twain the lights
- Of lampions burgeoning in flowers of flame,
- And twain the furniture in all the house,
- Two-fold the visages of fellow-men,
- And twain their bodies. And again, when sleep
- Has bound our members down in slumber soft
- And all the body lies in deep repose,
- Yet then we seem to self to be awake
- And move our members; and in night's blind gloom
- We think to mark the daylight and the sun;
- And, shut within a room, yet still we seem
- To change our skies, our oceans, rivers, hills,
- To cross the plains afoot, and hear new sounds,
- Though still the austere silence of the night
- Abides around us, and to speak replies,
- Though voiceless. Other cases of the sort
- Wondrously many do we see, which all
- Seek, so to say, to injure faith in sense-
- In vain, because the largest part of these
- Deceives through mere opinions of the mind,
- Which we do add ourselves, feigning to see
- What by the senses are not seen at all.
- For naught is harder than to separate
- Plain facts from dubious, which the mind forthwith
- Adds by itself.
- Again, if one suppose
- That naught is known, he knows not whether this
- Itself is able to be known, since he
- Confesses naught to know. Therefore with him
- I waive discussion- who has set his head
- Even where his feet should be. But let me grant
- That this he knows,- I question: whence he knows
- What 'tis to know and not-to-know in turn,
- And what created concept of the truth,
- And what device has proved the dubious
- To differ from the certain?- since in things
- He's heretofore seen naught of true. Thou'lt find
- That from the senses first hath been create
- Concept of truth, nor can the senses be
- Rebutted. For criterion must be found
- Worthy of greater trust, which shall defeat
- Through own authority the false by true;
- What, then, than these our senses must there be
- Worthy a greater trust? Shall reason, sprung
- From some false sense, prevail to contradict
- Those senses, sprung as reason wholly is
- From out the senses?- For lest these be true,
- All reason also then is falsified.
- Or shall the ears have power to blame the eyes,
- Or yet the touch the ears? Again, shall taste
- Accuse this touch or shall the nose confute
- Or eyes defeat it? Methinks not so it is:
- For unto each has been divided off
- Its function quite apart, its power to each;
- And thus we're still constrained to perceive
- The soft, the cold, the hot apart, apart
- All divers hues and whatso things there be
- Conjoined with hues. Likewise the tasting tongue
- Has its own power apart, and smells apart
- And sounds apart are known. And thus it is
- That no one sense can e'er convict another.
- Nor shall one sense have power to blame itself,
- Because it always must be deemed the same,
- Worthy of equal trust. And therefore what
- At any time unto these senses showed,
- The same is true.
- And if the reason be
- Unable to unravel us the cause
- Why objects, which at hand were square, afar
- Seemed rounded, yet it more availeth us,
- Lacking the reason, to pretend a cause
- For each configuration, than to let
- From out our hands escape the obvious things
- And injure primal faith in sense, and wreck
- All those foundations upon which do rest
- Our life and safety. For not only reason
- Would topple down; but even our very life
- Would straightaway collapse, unless we dared
- To trust our senses and to keep away
- From headlong heights and places to be shunned
- Of a like peril, and to seek with speed
- Their opposites! Again, as in a building,
- If the first plumb-line be askew, and if
- The square deceiving swerve from lines exact,
- And if the level waver but the least
- In any part, the whole construction then
- Must turn out faulty- shelving and askew,
- Leaning to back and front, incongruous,
- That now some portions seem about to fall,
- And falls the whole ere long- betrayed indeed
- By first deceiving estimates: so too
- Thy calculations in affairs of life
- Must be askew and false, if sprung for thee
- From senses false. So all that troop of words
- Marshalled against the senses is quite vain.
- And now remains to demonstrate with ease
- How other senses each their things perceive.
- Firstly, a sound and every voice is heard,
- When, getting into ears, they strike the sense
- With their own body. For confess we must
- Even voice and sound to be corporeal,
- Because they're able on the sense to strike.
- Besides voice often scrapes against the throat,
- And screams in going out do make more rough
- The wind-pipe- naturally enough, methinks,
- When, through the narrow exit rising up
- In larger throng, these primal germs of voice
- Have thus begun to issue forth. In sooth,
- Also the door of the mouth is scraped against
- [By air blown outward] from distended [cheeks].
- . . . . . .
- And thus no doubt there is, that voice and words
- Consist of elements corporeal,
- With power to pain. Nor art thou unaware
- Likewise how much of body's ta'en away,
- How much from very thews and powers of men
- May be withdrawn by steady talk, prolonged
- Even from the rising splendour of the morn
- To shadows of black evening,- above all
- If 't be outpoured with most exceeding shouts.
- Therefore the voice must be corporeal,
- Since the long talker loses from his frame
- A part.
- Moreover, roughness in the sound
- Comes from the roughness in the primal germs,
- As a smooth sound from smooth ones is create;
- Nor have these elements a form the same
- When the trump rumbles with a hollow roar,
- As when barbaric Berecynthian pipe
- Buzzes with raucous boomings, or when swans
- By night from icy shores of Helicon
- With wailing voices raise their liquid dirge.
- Thus, when from deep within our frame we force
- These voices, and at mouth expel them forth,
- The mobile tongue, artificer of words,
- Makes them articulate, and too the lips
- By their formations share in shaping them.
- Hence when the space is short from starting-point
- To where that voice arrives, the very words
- Must too be plainly heard, distinctly marked.
- For then the voice conserves its own formation,
- Conserves its shape. But if the space between
- Be longer than is fit, the words must be
- Through the much air confounded, and the voice
- Disordered in its flight across the winds-
- And so it haps, that thou canst sound perceive,
- Yet not determine what the words may mean;
- To such degree confounded and encumbered
- The voice approaches us. Again, one word,
- Sent from the crier's mouth, may rouse all ears
- Among the populace. And thus one voice
- Scatters asunder into many voices,
- Since it divides itself for separate ears,
- Imprinting form of word and a clear tone.
- But whatso part of voices fails to hit
- The ears themselves perishes, borne beyond,
- Idly diffused among the winds. A part,
- Beating on solid porticoes, tossed back
- Returns a sound; and sometimes mocks the ear
- With a mere phantom of a word.
- When this
- Thou well hast noted, thou canst render count
- Unto thyself and others why it is
- Along the lonely places that the rocks
- Give back like shapes of words in order like,
- When search we after comrades wandering
- Among the shady mountains, and aloud
- Call unto them, the scattered. I have seen
- Spots that gave back even voices six or seven
- For one thrown forth- for so the very hills,
- Dashing them back against the hills, kept on
- With their reverberations. And these spots
- The neighbouring country-side doth feign to be
- Haunts of the goat-foot satyrs and the nymphs;
- And tells ye there be fauns, by whose night noise
- And antic revels yonder they declare
- The voiceless silences are broken oft,
- And tones of strings are made and wailings sweet
- Which the pipe, beat by players' finger-tips,
- Pours out; and far and wide the farmer-race
- Begins to hear, when, shaking the garmentings
- Of pine upon his half-beast head, god-Pan
- With puckered lip oft runneth o'er and o'er
- The open reeds,- lest flute should cease to pour
- The woodland music! Other prodigies
- And wonders of this ilk they love to tell,
- Lest they be thought to dwell in lonely spots
- And even by gods deserted. This is why
- They boast of marvels in their story-tellings;
- Or by some other reason are led on-
- Greedy, as all mankind hath ever been,
- To prattle fables into ears.
- Again,
- One need not wonder how it comes about
- That through those places (through which eyes cannot
- View objects manifest) sounds yet may pass
- And assail the ears. For often we observe
- People conversing, though the doors be closed;
- No marvel either, since all voice unharmed
- Can wind through bended apertures of things,
- While idol-films decline to- for they're rent,
- Unless along straight apertures they swim,
- Like those in glass, through which all images
- Do fly across. And yet this voice itself,
- In passing through shut chambers of a house,
- Is dulled, and in a jumble enters ears,
- And sound we seem to hear far more than words.
- Moreover, a voice is into all directions
- Divided up, since off from one another
- New voices are engendered, when one voice
- Hath once leapt forth, outstarting into many-
- As oft a spark of fire is wont to sprinkle
- Itself into its several fires. And so,
- Voices do fill those places hid behind,
- Which all are in a hubbub round about,
- Astir with sound. But idol-films do tend,
- As once sent forth, in straight directions all;
- Wherefore one can inside a wall see naught,
- Yet catch the voices from beyond the same.
- Nor tongue and palate, whereby we flavour feel,
- Present more problems for more work of thought.
- Firstly, we feel a flavour in the mouth,
- When forth we squeeze it, in chewing up our food,-
- As any one perchance begins to squeeze
- With hand and dry a sponge with water soaked.
- Next, all which forth we squeeze is spread about
- Along the pores and intertwined paths
- Of the loose-textured tongue. And so, when smooth
- The bodies of the oozy flavour, then
- Delightfully they touch, delightfully
- They treat all spots, around the wet and trickling
- Enclosures of the tongue. And contrariwise,
- They sting and pain the sense with their assault,
- According as with roughness they're supplied.
- Next, only up to palate is the pleasure
- Coming from flavour; for in truth when down
- 'Thas plunged along the throat, no pleasure is,
- Whilst into all the frame it spreads around;
- Nor aught it matters with what food is fed
- The body, if only what thou take thou canst
- Distribute well digested to the frame
- And keep the stomach in a moist career.
- Now, how it is we see some food for some,
- Others for others....
- . . . . . .
- I will unfold, or wherefore what to some
- Is foul and bitter, yet the same to others
- Can seem delectable to eat,- why here
- So great the distance and the difference is
- That what is food to one to some becomes
- Fierce poison, as a certain snake there is
- Which, touched by spittle of a man, will waste
- And end itself by gnawing up its coil.
- Again, fierce poison is the hellebore
- To us, but puts the fat on goats and quails.
- That thou mayst know by what devices this
- Is brought about, in chief thou must recall
- What we have said before, that seeds are kept
- Commixed in things in divers modes. Again,
- As all the breathing creatures which take food
- Are outwardly unlike, and outer cut
- And contour of their members bounds them round,
- Each differing kind by kind, they thus consist
- Of seeds of varying shape. And furthermore,
- Since seeds do differ, divers too must be
- The interstices and paths (which we do call
- The apertures) in all the members, even
- In mouth and palate too. Thus some must be
- More small or yet more large, three-cornered some
- And others squared, and many others round,
- And certain of them many-angled too
- In many modes. For, as the combination
- And motion of their divers shapes demand,
- The shapes of apertures must be diverse
- And paths must vary according to their walls
- That bound them. Hence when what is sweet to some,
- Becomes to others bitter, for him to whom
- 'Tis sweet, the smoothest particles must needs
- Have entered caressingly the palate's pores.
- And, contrariwise, with those to whom that sweet
- Is sour within the mouth, beyond a doubt
- The rough and barbed particles have got
- Into the narrows of the apertures.
- Now easy it is from these affairs to know
- Whatever...
- . . . . . .
- Indeed, where one from o'er-abundant bile
- Is stricken with fever, or in other wise
- Feels the roused violence of some malady,
- There the whole frame is now upset, and there
- All the positions of the seeds are changed,-
- So that the bodies which before were fit
- To cause the savour, now are fit no more,
- And now more apt are others which be able
- To get within the pores and gender sour.
- Both sorts, in sooth, are intermixed in honey-
- What oft we've proved above to thee before.
- Now come, and I will indicate what wise
- Impact of odour on the nostrils touches.
- And first, 'tis needful there be many things
- From whence the streaming flow of varied odours
- May roll along, and we're constrained to think
- They stream and dart and sprinkle themselves about
- Impartially. But for some breathing creatures
- One odour is more apt, to others another-
- Because of differing forms of seeds and pores.
- Thus on and on along the zephyrs bees
- Are led by odour of honey, vultures too
- By carcasses. Again, the forward power
- Of scent in dogs doth lead the hunter on
- Whithersoever the splay-foot of wild beast
- Hath hastened its career; and the white goose,
- The saviour of the Roman citadel,
- Forescents afar the odour of mankind.
- Thus, diversly to divers ones is given
- Peculiar smell that leadeth each along
- To his own food or makes him start aback
- From loathsome poison, and in this wise are
- The generations of the wild preserved.
- Yet is this pungence not alone in odours
- Or in the class of flavours; but, likewise,
- The look of things and hues agree not all
- So well with senses unto all, but that
- Some unto some will be, to gaze upon,
- More keen and painful. Lo, the raving lions,
- They dare not face and gaze upon the cock
- Who's wont with wings to flap away the night
- From off the stage, and call the beaming morn
- With clarion voice- and lions straightway thus
- Bethink themselves of flight, because, ye see,
- Within the body of the cocks there be
- Some certain seeds, which, into lions' eyes
- Injected, bore into the pupils deep
- And yield such piercing pain they can't hold out
- Against the cocks, however fierce they be-
- Whilst yet these seeds can't hurt our gaze the least,
- Either because they do not penetrate,
- Or since they have free exit from the eyes
- As soon as penetrating, so that thus
- They cannot hurt our eyes in any part
- By there remaining.
- To speak once more of odour;
- Whatever assail the nostrils, some can travel
- A longer way than others. None of them,
- However, 's borne so far as sound or voice-
- While I omit all mention of such things
- As hit the eyesight and assail the vision.
- For slowly on a wandering course it comes
- And perishes sooner, by degrees absorbed
- Easily into all the winds of air;-
- And first, because from deep inside the thing
- It is discharged with labour (for the fact
- That every object, when 'tis shivered, ground,
- Or crumbled by the fire, will smell the stronger
- Is sign that odours flow and part away
- From inner regions of the things). And next,
- Thou mayest see that odour is create
- Of larger primal germs than voice, because
- It enters not through stony walls, wherethrough
- Unfailingly the voice and sound are borne;
- Wherefore, besides, thou wilt observe 'tis not
- So easy to trace out in whatso place
- The smelling object is. For, dallying on
- Along the winds, the particles cool off,
- And then the scurrying messengers of things
- Arrive our senses, when no longer hot.
- So dogs oft wander astray, and hunt the scent.
- Now mark, and hear what objects move the mind,
- And learn, in few, whence unto intellect
- Do come what come. And first I tell thee this:
- That many images of objects rove
- In many modes to every region round-
- So thin that easily the one with other,
- When once they meet, uniteth in mid-air,
- Like gossamer or gold-leaf. For, indeed,
- Far thinner are they in their fabric than
- Those images which take a hold on eyes
- And smite the vision, since through body's pores
- They penetrate, and inwardly stir up
- The subtle nature of mind and smite the sense.
- Thus, Centaurs and the limbs of Scyllas, thus
- The Cerberus-visages of dogs we see,
- And images of people gone before-
- Dead men whose bones earth bosomed long ago;
- Because the images of every kind
- Are everywhere about us borne- in part
- Those which are gendered in the very air
- Of own accord, in part those others which
- From divers things do part away, and those
- Which are compounded, made from out their shapes.
- For soothly from no living Centaur is
- That phantom gendered, since no breed of beast
- Like him was ever; but, when images
- Of horse and man by chance have come together,
- They easily cohere, as aforesaid,
- At once, through subtle nature and fabric thin.
- In the same fashion others of this ilk
- Created are. And when they're quickly borne
- In their exceeding lightness, easily
- (As earlier I showed) one subtle image,
- Compounded, moves by its one blow the mind,
- Itself so subtle and so strangely quick.
- That these things come to pass as I record,
- From this thou easily canst understand:
- So far as one is unto other like,
- Seeing with mind as well as with the eyes
- Must come to pass in fashion not unlike.
- Well, now, since I have shown that I perceive
- Haply a lion through those idol-films
- Such as assail my eyes, 'tis thine to know
- Also the mind is in like manner moved,
- And sees, nor more nor less than eyes do see
- (Except that it perceives more subtle films)
- The lion and aught else through idol-films.
- And when the sleep has overset our frame,
- The mind's intelligence is now awake,
- Still for no other reason, save that these-
- The self-same films as when we are awake-
- Assail our minds, to such degree indeed
- That we do seem to see for sure the man
- Whom, void of life, now death and earth have gained
- Dominion over. And nature forces this
- To come to pass because the body's senses
- Are resting, thwarted through the members all,
- Unable now to conquer false with true;
- And memory lies prone and languishes
- In slumber, nor protests that he, the man
- Whom the mind feigns to see alive, long since
- Hath been the gain of death and dissolution.
- And further, 'tis no marvel idols move
- And toss their arms and other members round
- In rhythmic time- and often in men's sleeps
- It haps an image this is seen to do;
- In sooth, when perishes the former image,
- And other is gendered of another pose,
- That former seemeth to have changed its gestures.
- Of course the change must be conceived as speedy;
- So great the swiftness and so great the store
- Of idol-things, and (in an instant brief
- As mind can mark) so great, again, the store
- Of separate idol-parts to bring supplies.
- It happens also that there is supplied
- Sometimes an image not of kind the same;
- But what before was woman, now at hand
- Is seen to stand there, altered into male;
- Or other visage, other age succeeds;
- But slumber and oblivion take care
- That we shall feel no wonder at the thing.
- And much in these affairs demands inquiry,
- And much, illumination- if we crave
- With plainness to exhibit facts. And first,
- Why doth the mind of one to whom the whim
- To think has come behold forthwith that thing?
- Or do the idols watch upon our will,
- And doth an image unto us occur,
- Directly we desire- if heart prefer
- The sea, the land, or after all the sky?
- Assemblies of the citizens, parades,
- Banquets, and battles, these and all doth she,
- Nature, create and furnish at our word?-
- Maugre the fact that in same place and spot
- Another's mind is meditating things
- All far unlike. And what, again, of this:
- When we in sleep behold the idols step,
- In measure, forward, moving supple limbs,
- Whilst forth they put each supple arm in turn
- With speedy motion, and with eyeing heads
- Repeat the movement, as the foot keeps time?
- Forsooth, the idols they are steeped in art,
- And wander to and fro well taught indeed,-
- Thus to be able in the time of night
- To make such games! Or will the truth be this:
- Because in one least moment that we mark-
- That is, the uttering of a single sound-
- There lurk yet many moments, which the reason
- Discovers to exist, therefore it comes
- That, in a moment how so brief ye will,
- The divers idols are hard by, and ready
- Each in its place diverse? So great the swiftness,
- So great, again, the store of idol-things,
- And so, when perishes the former image,
- And other is gendered of another pose,
- The former seemeth to have changed its gestures.
- And since they be so tenuous, mind can mark
- Sharply alone the ones it strains to see;
- And thus the rest do perish one and all,
- Save those for which the mind prepares itself.
- Further, it doth prepare itself indeed,
- And hopes to see what follows after each-
- Hence this result. For hast thou not observed
- How eyes, essaying to perceive the fine,
- Will strain in preparation, otherwise
- Unable sharply to perceive at all?
- Yet know thou canst that, even in objects plain,
- If thou attendest not, 'tis just the same
- As if 'twere all the time removed and far.
- What marvel, then, that mind doth lose the rest,
- Save those to which 'thas given up itself?
- So 'tis that we conjecture from small signs
- Things wide and weighty, and involve ourselves
- In snarls of self-deceit.
- In these affairs
- We crave that thou wilt passionately flee
- The one offence, and anxiously wilt shun
- The error of presuming the clear lights
- Of eyes created were that we might see;
- Or thighs and knees, aprop upon the feet,
- Thuswise can bended be, that we might step
- With goodly strides ahead; or forearms joined
- Unto the sturdy uppers, or serving hands
- On either side were given, that we might do
- Life's own demands. All such interpretation
- Is aft-for-fore with inverse reasoning,
- Since naught is born in body so that we
- May use the same, but birth engenders use:
- No seeing ere the lights of eyes were born,
- No speaking ere the tongue created was;
- But origin of tongue came long before
- Discourse of words, and ears created were
- Much earlier than any sound was heard;
- And all the members, so meseems, were there
- Before they got their use: and therefore, they
- Could not be gendered for the sake of use.
- But contrariwise, contending in the fight
- With hand to hand, and rending of the joints,
- And fouling of the limbs with gore, was there,
- O long before the gleaming spears ere flew;
- And nature prompted man to shun a wound,
- Before the left arm by the aid of art
- Opposed the shielding targe. And, verily,
- Yielding the weary body to repose,
- Far ancienter than cushions of soft beds,
- And quenching thirst is earlier than cups.
- These objects, therefore, which for use and life
- Have been devised, can be conceived as found
- For sake of using. But apart from such
- Are all which first were born and afterwards
- Gave knowledge of their own utility-
- Chief in which sort we note the senses, limbs:
- Wherefore, again, 'tis quite beyond thy power
- To hold that these could thus have been create
- For office of utility.
- Likewise,
- 'Tis nothing strange that all the breathing creatures
- Seek, even by nature of their frame, their food.
- Yes, since I've taught thee that from off the things
- Stream and depart innumerable bodies
- In modes innumerable too; but most
- Must be the bodies streaming from the living-
- Which bodies, vexed by motion evermore,
- Are through the mouth exhaled innumerable,
- When weary creatures pant, or through the sweat
- Squeezed forth innumerable from deep within.
- Thus body rarefies, so undermined
- In all its nature, and pain attends its state.
- And so the food is taken to underprop
- The tottering joints, and by its interfusion
- To re-create their powers, and there stop up
- The longing, open-mouthed through limbs and veins,
- For eating. And the moist no less departs
- Into all regions that demand the moist;
- And many heaped-up particles of hot,
- Which cause such burnings in these bellies of ours,
- The liquid on arriving dissipates
- And quenches like a fire, that parching heat
- No longer now can scorch the frame. And so,
- Thou seest how panting thirst is washed away
- From off our body, how the hunger-pang
- It, too, appeased.
- Now, how it comes that we,
- Whene'er we wish, can step with strides ahead,
- And how 'tis given to move our limbs about,
- And what device is wont to push ahead
- This the big load of our corporeal frame,
- I'll say to thee- do thou attend what's said.
- I say that first some idol-films of walking
- Into our mind do fall and smite the mind,
- As said before. Thereafter will arises;
- For no one starts to do a thing, before
- The intellect previsions what it wills;
- And what it there pre-visioneth depends
- On what that image is. When, therefore, mind
- Doth so bestir itself that it doth will
- To go and step along, it strikes at once
- That energy of soul that's sown about
- In all the body through the limbs and frame-
- And this is easy of performance, since
- The soul is close conjoined with the mind.
- Next, soul in turn strikes body, and by degrees
- Thus the whole mass is pushed along and moved.
- Then too the body rarefies, and air,
- Forsooth as ever of such nimbleness,
- Comes on and penetrates aboundingly
- Through opened pores, and thus is sprinkled round
- Unto all smallest places in our frame.
- Thus then by these twain factors, severally,
- Body is borne like ship with oars and wind.
- Nor yet in these affairs is aught for wonder
- That particles so fine can whirl around
- So great a body and turn this weight of ours;
- For wind, so tenuous with its subtle body,
- Yet pushes, driving on the mighty ship
- Of mighty bulk; one hand directs the same,
- Whatever its momentum, and one helm
- Whirls it around, whither ye please; and loads,
- Many and huge, are moved and hoisted high
- By enginery of pulley-blocks and wheels,
- With but light strain.
- Now, by what modes this sleep
- Pours through our members waters of repose
- And frees the breast from cares of mind, I'll tell
- In verses sweeter than they many are;
- Even as the swan's slight note is better far
- Than that dispersed clamour of the cranes
- Among the southwind's aery clouds. Do thou
- Give me sharp ears and a sagacious mind,-
- That thou mayst not deny the things to be
- Whereof I'm speaking, nor depart away
- With bosom scorning these the spoken truths,
- Thyself at fault unable to perceive.
- Sleep chiefly comes when energy of soul
- Hath now been scattered through the frame, and part
- Expelled abroad and gone away, and part
- Crammed back and settling deep within the frame-
- Whereafter then our loosened members droop.
- For doubt is none that by the work of soul
- Exist in us this sense, and when by slumber
- That sense is thwarted, we are bound to think
- The soul confounded and expelled abroad-
- Yet not entirely, else the frame would lie
- Drenched in the everlasting cold of death.
- In sooth, where no one part of soul remained
- Lurking among the members, even as fire
- Lurks buried under many ashes, whence
- Could sense amain rekindled be in members,
- As flame can rise anew from unseen fire?
- By what devices this strange state and new
- May be occasioned, and by what the soul
- Can be confounded and the frame grow faint,
- I will untangle: see to it, thou, that I
- Pour forth my words not unto empty winds.
- In first place, body on its outer parts-
- Since these are touched by neighbouring aery gusts-
- Must there be thumped and strook by blows of air
- Repeatedly. And therefore almost all
- Are covered either with hides, or else with shells,
- Or with the horny callus, or with bark.
- Yet this same air lashes their inner parts,
- When creatures draw a breath or blow it out.
- Wherefore, since body thus is flogged alike
- Upon the inside and the out, and blows
- Come in upon us through the little pores
- Even inward to our body's primal parts
- And primal elements, there comes to pass
- By slow degrees, along our members then,
- A kind of overthrow; for then confounded
- Are those arrangements of the primal germs
- Of body and of mind. It comes to pass
- That next a part of soul's expelled abroad,
- A part retreateth in recesses hid,
- A part, too, scattered all about the frame,
- Cannot become united nor engage
- In interchange of motion. Nature now
- So hedges off approaches and the paths;
- And thus the sense, its motions all deranged,
- Retires down deep within; and since there's naught,
- As 'twere, to prop the frame, the body weakens,
- And all the members languish, and the arms
- And eyelids fall, and, as ye lie abed,
- Even there the houghs will sag and loose their powers.
- Again, sleep follows after food, because
- The food produces same result as air,
- Whilst being scattered round through all the veins;
- And much the heaviest is that slumber which,
- Full or fatigued, thou takest; since 'tis then
- That the most bodies disarrange themselves,
- Bruised by labours hard. And in same wise,
- This three-fold change: a forcing of the soul
- Down deeper, more a casting-forth of it,
- A moving more divided in its parts
- And scattered more.