Sunday, May 12, 2013

Friday, May 10, 2013

Thursday, May 9, 2013

from "On the Nature of Things" by Lucretius

Existence and Character of the Images 


But since I've taught already of what sort 
The seeds of all things are, and how distinct 
In divers forms they flit of own accord, 
Stirred with a motion everlasting on, 
And in what mode things be from them create, 
And since I've taught what the mind's nature is, 
And of what things 'tis with the body knit 
And thrives in strength, and by what mode uptorn 
That mind returns to its primordials, 
Now will I undertake an argument- 
One for these matters of supreme concern- 
That there exist those somewhats which we call 
The images of things: these, like to films 
Scaled off the utmost outside of the things, 
Flit hither and thither through the atmosphere, 
And the same terrify our intellects, 
Coming upon us waking or in sleep, 
When oft we peer at wonderful strange shapes 
And images of people lorn of light, 
Which oft have horribly roused us when we lay 
In slumber- that haply nevermore may we 
Suppose that souls get loose from Acheron, 
Or shades go floating in among the living, 
Or aught of us is left behind at death, 
When body and mind, destroyed together, each 
Back to its own primordials goes away. 

And thus I say that effigies of things, 
And tenuous shapes from off the things are sent, 
From off the utmost outside of the things, 
Which are like films or may be named a rind, 
Because the image bears like look and form 
With whatso body has shed it fluttering forth- 
A fact thou mayst, however dull thy wits, 
Well learn from this: mainly, because we see 
Even 'mongst visible objects many be 
That send forth bodies, loosely some diffused- 
Like smoke from oaken logs and heat from fires- 
And some more interwoven and condensed- 
As when the locusts in the summertime 
Put off their glossy tunics, or when calves 
At birth drop membranes from their body's surface, 
Or when, again, the slippery serpent doffs 
Its vestments 'mongst the thorns- for oft we see 
The breres augmented with their flying spoils: 
Since such takes place, 'tis likewise certain too 
That tenuous images from things are sent, 
From off the utmost outside of the things. 
For why those kinds should drop and part from things, 
Rather than others tenuous and thin, 
No power has man to open mouth to tell; 
Especially, since on outsides of things 
Are bodies many and minute which could, 
In the same order which they had before, 
And with the figure of their form preserved, 
Be thrown abroad, and much more swiftly too, 
Being less subject to impediments, 
As few in number and placed along the front. 
For truly many things we see discharge 
Their stuff at large, not only from their cores 
Deep-set within, as we have said above, 
But from their surfaces at times no less- 
Their very colours too. And commonly 
The awnings, saffron, red and dusky blue, 
Stretched overhead in mighty theatres, 
Upon their poles and cross-beams fluttering, 
Have such an action quite; for there they dye 
And make to undulate with their every hue 
The circled throng below, and all the stage, 
And rich attire in the patrician seats. 
And ever the more the theatre's dark walls 
Around them shut, the more all things within 
Laugh in the bright suffusion of strange glints, 
The daylight being withdrawn. And therefore, since 
The canvas hangings thus discharge their dye 
From off their surface, things in general must 
Likewise their tenuous effigies discharge, 
Because in either case they are off-thrown 
From off the surface. So there are indeed 
Such certain prints and vestiges of forms 
Which flit around, of subtlest texture made, 
Invisible, when separate, each and one. 
Again, all odour, smoke, and heat, and such 
Streams out of things diffusedly, because, 
Whilst coming from the deeps of body forth 
And rising out, along their bending path 
They're torn asunder, nor have gateways straight 
Wherethrough to mass themselves and struggle abroad. 
But contrariwise, when such a tenuous film 
Of outside colour is thrown off, there's naught 
Can rend it, since 'tis placed along the front 
Ready to hand. Lastly those images 
Which to our eyes in mirrors do appear, 
In water, or in any shining surface, 
Must be, since furnished with like look of things, 
Fashioned from images of things sent out. 
There are, then, tenuous effigies of forms, 
Like unto them, which no one can divine 
When taken singly, which do yet give back, 
When by continued and recurrent discharge 
Expelled, a picture from the mirrors' plane. 
Nor otherwise, it seems, can they be kept 
So well conserved that thus be given back 
Figures so like each object. 


Now then, learn 
How tenuous is the nature of an image. 

And in the first place, since primordials be 
So far beneath our senses, and much less 
E'en than those objects which begin to grow 
Too small for eyes to note, learn now in few 
How nice are the beginnings of all things- 
That this, too, I may yet confirm in proof: 
First, living creatures are sometimes so small 
That even their third part can nowise be seen; 
Judge, then, the size of any inward organ- 
What of their sphered heart, their eyes, their limbs, 
The skeleton?- How tiny thus they are! 
And what besides of those first particles 
Whence soul and mind must fashioned be?- Seest not 
How nice and how minute? Besides, whatever 
Exhales from out its body a sharp smell- 
The nauseous absinth, or the panacea, 
Strong southernwood, or bitter centaury- 
If never so lightly with thy [fingers] twain 
Perchance [thou touch] a one of them 

Then why not rather know that images 
Flit hither and thither, many, in many modes, 
Bodiless and invisible? 
But lest 
Haply thou holdest that those images 
Which come from objects are the sole that flit, 
Others indeed there be of own accord 
Begot, self-formed in earth's aery skies, 
Which, moulded to innumerable shapes, 
Are borne aloft, and, fluid as they are, 
Cease not to change appearance and to turn 
Into new outlines of all sorts of forms; 
As we behold the clouds grow thick on high 
And smirch the serene vision of the world, 
Stroking the air with motions. For oft are seen 
The giants' faces flying far along 
And trailing a spread of shadow; and at times 
The mighty mountains and mountain-sundered rocks 
Going before and crossing on the sun, 
Whereafter a monstrous beast dragging amain 
And leading in the other thunderheads. 
Now [hear] how easy and how swift they be 
Engendered, and perpetually flow off 
From things and gliding pass away.... 

For ever every outside streams away 
From off all objects, since discharge they may; 
And when this outside reaches other things, 
As chiefly glass, it passes through; but where 
It reaches the rough rocks or stuff of wood, 
There 'tis so rent that it cannot give back 
An image. But when gleaming objects dense, 
As chiefly mirrors, have been set before it, 
Nothing of this sort happens. For it can't 
Go, as through glass, nor yet be rent- its safety, 
By virtue of that smoothness, being sure. 
'Tis therefore that from them the images 
Stream back to us; and howso suddenly 
Thou place, at any instant, anything 
Before a mirror, there an image shows; 
Proving that ever from a body's surface 
Flow off thin textures and thin shapes of things. 
Thus many images in little time 
Are gendered; so their origin is named 
Rightly a speedy. And even as the sun 
Must send below, in little time, to earth 
So many beams to keep all things so full 
Of light incessant; thus, on grounds the same, 
From things there must be borne, in many modes, 
To every quarter round, upon the moment, 
The many images of things; because 
Unto whatever face of things we turn 
The mirror, things of form and hue the same 
Respond. Besides, though but a moment since 
Serenest was the weather of the sky, 
So fiercely sudden is it foully thick 
That ye might think that round about all murk 
Had parted forth from Acheron and filled 
The mighty vaults of sky- so grievously, 
As gathers thus the storm-clouds' gruesome night, 
Do faces of black horror hang on high- 
Of which how small a part an image is 
There's none to tell or reckon out in words. 


Translated by William Ellery Leonard.
http://classics.mit.edu/Carus/nature_things.html