De Rerum Natura
Lucretius
Lucretius. De Rerum Natura. William Ellery Leonard. E. P. Dutton. 1916.
- 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.
- And to whate'er pursuit
- A man most clings absorbed, or what the affairs
- On which we theretofore have tarried much,
- And mind hath strained upon the more, we seem
- In sleep not rarely to go at the same.
- The lawyers seem to plead and cite decrees,
- Commanders they to fight and go at frays,
- Sailors to live in combat with the winds,
- And we ourselves indeed to make this book,
- And still to seek the nature of the world
- And set it down, when once discovered, here
- In these my country's leaves. Thus all pursuits,
- All arts in general seem in sleeps to mock
- And master the minds of men. And whosoever
- Day after day for long to games have given
- Attention undivided, still they keep
- (As oft we note), even when they've ceased to grasp
- Those games with their own senses, open paths
- Within the mind wherethrough the idol-films
- Of just those games can come. And thus it is
- For many a day thereafter those appear
- Floating before the eyes, that even awake
- They think they view the dancers moving round
- Their supple limbs, and catch with both the ears
- The liquid song of harp and speaking chords,
- And view the same assembly on the seats,
- And manifold bright glories of the stage-
- So great the influence of pursuit and zest,
- And of the affairs wherein 'thas been the wont
- Of men to be engaged-nor only men,
- But soothly all the animals. Behold,
- Thou'lt see the sturdy horses, though outstretched,
- Yet sweating in their sleep, and panting ever,
- And straining utmost strength, as if for prize,
- As if, with barriers opened now...
- And hounds of huntsmen oft in soft repose
- Yet toss asudden all their legs about,
- And growl and bark, and with their nostrils sniff
- The winds again, again, as though indeed
- They'd caught the scented foot-prints of wild beasts,
- And, even when wakened, often they pursue
- The phantom images of stags, as though
- They did perceive them fleeing on before,
- Until the illusion's shaken off and dogs
- Come to themselves again. And fawning breed
- Of house-bred whelps do feel the sudden urge
- To shake their bodies and start from off the ground,
- As if beholding stranger-visages.
- And ever the fiercer be the stock, the more
- In sleep the same is ever bound to rage.
- But flee the divers tribes of birds and vex
- With sudden wings by night the groves of gods,
- When in their gentle slumbers they have dreamed
- Of hawks in chase, aswooping on for fight.
- Again, the minds of mortals which perform
- With mighty motions mighty enterprises,
- Often in sleep will do and dare the same
- In manner like. Kings take the towns by storm,
- Succumb to capture, battle on the field,
- Raise a wild cry as if their throats were cut
- Even then and there. And many wrestle on
- And groan with pains, and fill all regions round
- With mighty cries and wild, as if then gnawed
- By fangs of panther or of lion fierce.
- Many amid their slumbers talk about
- Their mighty enterprises, and have often
- Enough become the proof of their own crimes.
- Many meet death; many, as if headlong
- From lofty mountains tumbling down to earth
- With all their frame, are frenzied in their fright;
- And after sleep, as if still mad in mind,
- They scarce come to, confounded as they are
- By ferment of their frame. The thirsty man,
- Likewise, he sits beside delightful spring
- Or river and gulpeth down with gaping throat
- Nigh the whole stream. And oft the innocent young,
- By sleep o'ermastered, think they lift their dress
- By pail or public jordan and then void
- The water filtered down their frame entire
- And drench the Babylonian coverlets,
- Magnificently bright. Again, those males
- Into the surging channels of whose years
- Now first has passed the seed (engendered
- Within their members by the ripened days)
- Are in their sleep confronted from without
- By idol-images of some fair form-
- Tidings of glorious face and lovely bloom,
- Which stir and goad the regions turgid now
- With seed abundant; so that, as it were
- With all the matter acted duly out,
- They pour the billows of a potent stream
- And stain their garment.
- And as said before,
- That seed is roused in us when once ripe age
- Has made our body strong...
- As divers causes give to divers things
- Impulse and irritation, so one force
- In human kind rouses the human seed
- To spurt from man. As soon as ever it issues,
- Forced from its first abodes, it passes down
- In the whole body through the limbs and frame,
- Meeting in certain regions of our thews,
- And stirs amain the genitals of man.
- The goaded regions swell with seed, and then
- Comes the delight to dart the same at what
- The mad desire so yearns, and body seeks
- That object, whence the mind by love is pierced.
- For well-nigh each man falleth toward his wound,
- And our blood spurts even toward the spot from whence
- The stroke wherewith we are strook, and if indeed
- The foe be close, the red jet reaches him.
- Thus, one who gets a stroke from Venus' shafts-
- Whether a boy with limbs effeminate
- Assault him, or a woman darting love
- From all her body- that one strains to get
- Even to the thing whereby he's hit, and longs
- To join with it and cast into its frame
- The fluid drawn even from within its own.
- For the mute craving doth presage delight.
- This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
- From this, engender all the lures of love,
- From this, O first hath into human hearts
- Trickled that drop of joyance which ere long
- Is by chill care succeeded. Since, indeed,
- Though she thou lovest now be far away,
- Yet idol-images of her are near
- And the sweet name is floating in thy ear.
- But it behooves to flee those images;
- And scare afar whatever feeds thy love;
- And turn elsewhere thy mind; and vent the sperm,
- Within thee gathered, into sundry bodies,
- Nor, with thy thoughts still busied with one love,
- Keep it for one delight, and so store up
- Care for thyself and pain inevitable.
- For, lo, the ulcer just by nourishing
- Grows to more life with deep inveteracy,
- And day by day the fury swells aflame,
- And the woe waxes heavier day by day-
- Unless thou dost destroy even by new blows
- The former wounds of love, and curest them
- While yet they're fresh, by wandering freely round
- After the freely-wandering Venus, or
- Canst lead elsewhere the tumults of thy mind.
- Nor doth that man who keeps away from love
- Yet lack the fruits of Venus; rather takes
- Those pleasures which are free of penalties.
- For the delights of Venus, verily,
- Are more unmixed for mortals sane-of-soul
- Than for those sick-at-heart with love-pining.
- Yea, in the very moment of possessing,
- Surges the heat of lovers to and fro,
- Restive, uncertain; and they cannot fix
- On what to first enjoy with eyes and hands.
- The parts they sought for, those they squeeze so tight,
- And pain the creature's body, close their teeth
- Often against her lips, and smite with kiss
- Mouth into mouth,- because this same delight
- Is not unmixed; and underneath are stings
- Which goad a man to hurt the very thing,
- Whate'er it be, from whence arise for him
- Those germs of madness. But with gentle touch
- Venus subdues the pangs in midst of love,
- And the admixture of a fondling joy
- Doth curb the bites of passion. For they hope
- That by the very body whence they caught
- The heats of love their flames can be put out.
- But nature protests 'tis all quite otherwise;
- For this same love it is the one sole thing
- Of which, the more we have, the fiercer burns
- The breast with fell desire. For food and drink
- Are taken within our members; and, since they
- Can stop up certain parts, thus, easily
- Desire of water is glutted and of bread.
- But, lo, from human face and lovely bloom
- Naught penetrates our frame to be enjoyed
- Save flimsy idol-images and vain-
- A sorry hope which oft the winds disperse.
- As when the thirsty man in slumber seeks
- To drink, and water ne'er is granted him
- Wherewith to quench the heat within his members,
- But after idols of the liquids strives
- And toils in vain, and thirsts even whilst he gulps
- In middle of the torrent, thus in love
- Venus deludes with idol-images
- The lovers. Nor they cannot sate their lust
- By merely gazing on the bodies, nor
- They cannot with their palms and fingers rub
- Aught from each tender limb, the while they stray
- Uncertain over all the body. Then,
- At last, with members intertwined, when they
- Enjoy the flower of their age, when now
- Their bodies have sweet presage of keen joys,
- And Venus is about to sow the fields
- Of woman, greedily their frames they lock,
- And mingle the slaver of their mouths, and breathe
- Into each other, pressing teeth on mouths-
- Yet to no purpose, since they're powerless
- To rub off aught, or penetrate and pass
- With body entire into body- for oft
- They seem to strive and struggle thus to do;
- So eagerly they cling in Venus' bonds,
- Whilst melt away their members, overcome
- By violence of delight. But when at last
- Lust, gathered in the thews, hath spent itself,
- There come a brief pause in the raging heat-
- But then a madness just the same returns
- And that old fury visits them again,
- When once again they seek and crave to reach
- They know not what, all powerless to find
- The artifice to subjugate the bane.
- In such uncertain state they waste away
- With unseen wound.
- To which be added too,
- They squander powers and with the travail wane;
- Be added too, they spend their futile years
- Under another's beck and call; their duties
- Neglected languish and their honest name
- Reeleth sick, sick; and meantime their estates
- Are lost in Babylonian tapestries;
- And unguents and dainty Sicyonian shoes
- Laugh on her feet; and (as ye may be sure)
- Big emeralds of green light are set in gold;
- And rich sea-purple dress by constant wear
- Grows shabby and all soaked with Venus' sweat;
- And the well-earned ancestral property
- Becometh head-bands, coifs, and many a time
- The cloaks, or garments Alidensian
- Or of the Cean isle. And banquets, set
- With rarest cloth and viands, are prepared-
- And games of chance, and many a drinking cup,
- And unguents, crowns and garlands. All in vain,
- Since from amid the well-spring of delights
- Bubbles some drop of bitter to torment
- Among the very flowers- when haply mind
- Gnaws into self, now stricken with remorse
- For slothful years and ruin in baudels,
- Or else because she's left him all in doubt
- By launching some sly word, which still like fire
- Lives wildly, cleaving to his eager heart;
- Or else because he thinks she darts her eyes
- Too much about and gazes at another,-
- And in her face sees traces of a laugh.