De Rerum Natura
Lucretius
Lucretius. De Rerum Natura. William Ellery Leonard. E. P. Dutton. 1916.
- The nature of room, the space of the abyss
- Is such that even the flashing thunderbolts
- Can neither speed upon their courses through,
- Gliding across eternal tracts of time,
- Nor, further, bring to pass, as on they run,
- That they may bate their journeying one whit:
- Such huge abundance spreads for things around-
- Room off to every quarter, without end.
- Lastly, before our very eyes is seen
- Thing to bound thing: air hedges hill from hill,
- And mountain walls hedge air; land ends the sea,
- And sea in turn all lands; but for the All
- Truly is nothing which outside may bound.
- That, too, the sum of things itself may not
- Have power to fix a measure of its own,
- Great nature guards, she who compels the void
- To bound all body, as body all the void,
- Thus rendering by these alternates the whole
- An infinite; or else the one or other,
- Being unbounded by the other, spreads,
- Even by its single nature, ne'ertheless
- Immeasurably forth....
- Nor sea, nor earth, nor shining vaults of sky,
- Nor breed of mortals, nor holy limbs of gods
- Could keep their place least portion of an hour:
- For, driven apart from out its meetings fit,
- The stock of stuff, dissolved, would be borne
- Along the illimitable inane afar,
- Or rather, in fact, would ne'er have once combined
- And given a birth to aught, since, scattered wide,
- It could not be united. For of truth
- Neither by counsel did the primal germs
- 'Stablish themselves, as by keen act of mind,
- Each in its proper place; nor did they make,
- Forsooth, a compact how each germ should move;
- But since, being many and changed in many modes
- Along the All, they're driven abroad and vexed
- By blow on blow, even from all time of old,
- They thus at last, after attempting all
- The kinds of motion and conjoining, come
- Into those great arrangements out of which
- This sum of things established is create,
- By which, moreover, through the mighty years,
- It is preserved, when once it has been thrown
- Into the proper motions, bringing to pass
- That ever the streams refresh the greedy main
- With river-waves abounding, and that earth,
- Lapped in warm exhalations of the sun,
- Renews her broods, and that the lusty race
- Of breathing creatures bears and blooms, and that
- The gliding fires of ether are alive-
- What still the primal germs nowise could do,
- Unless from out the infinite of space
- Could come supply of matter, whence in season
- They're wont whatever losses to repair.
- For as the nature of breathing creatures wastes,
- Losing its body, when deprived of food:
- So all things have to be dissolved as soon
- As matter, diverted by what means soever
- From off its course, shall fail to be on hand.
- Nor can the blows from outward still conserve,
- On every side, whatever sum of a world
- Has been united in a whole. They can
- Indeed, by frequent beating, check a part,
- Till others arriving may fulfil the sum;
- But meanwhile often are they forced to spring
- Rebounding back, and, as they spring, to yield,
- Unto those elements whence a world derives,
- Room and a time for flight, permitting them
- To be from off the massy union borne
- Free and afar. Wherefore, again, again:
- Needs must there come a many for supply;
- And also, that the blows themselves shall be
- Unfailing ever, must there ever be
- An infinite force of matter all sides round.
- And in these problems, shrink, my Memmius, far
- From yielding faith to that notorious talk:
- That all things inward to the centre press;
- And thus the nature of the world stands firm
- With never blows from outward, nor can be
- Nowhere disparted- since all height and depth
- Have always inward to the centre pressed
- (If thou art ready to believe that aught
- Itself can rest upon itself ); or that
- The ponderous bodies which be under earth
- Do all press upwards and do come to rest
- Upon the earth, in some way upside down,
- Like to those images of things we see
- At present through the waters. They contend,
- With like procedure, that all breathing things
- Head downward roam about, and yet cannot
- Tumble from earth to realms of sky below,
- No more than these our bodies wing away
- Spontaneously to vaults of sky above;
- That, when those creatures look upon the sun,
- We view the constellations of the night;
- And that with us the seasons of the sky
- They thus alternately divide, and thus
- Do pass the night coequal to our days,
- But a vain error has given these dreams to fools,
- Which they've embraced with reasoning perverse
- For centre none can be where world is still
- Boundless, nor yet, if now a centre were,
- Could aught take there a fixed position more
- Than for some other cause 'tmight be dislodged.
- For all of room and space we call the void
- Must both through centre and non-centre yield
- Alike to weights where'er their motions tend.
- Nor is there any place, where, when they've come,
- Bodies can be at standstill in the void,
- Deprived of force of weight; nor yet may void
- Furnish support to any,- nay, it must,
- True to its bent of nature, still give way.
- Thus in such manner not at all can things
- Be held in union, as if overcome
- By craving for a centre.