De Rerum Natura
Lucretius
Lucretius. De Rerum Natura. William Ellery Leonard. E. P. Dutton. 1916.
- Again, at parturitions of the wild
- And at the rites of Love, that souls should stand
- Ready hard by seems ludicrous enough-
- Immortals waiting for their mortal limbs
- In numbers innumerable, contending madly
- Which shall be first and chief to enter in!-
- Unless perchance among the souls there be
- Such treaties stablished that the first to come
- Flying along, shall enter in the first,
- And that they make no rivalries of strength!
- Again, in ether can't exist a tree,
- Nor clouds in ocean deeps, nor in the fields
- Can fishes live, nor blood in timber be,
- Nor sap in boulders: fixed and arranged
- Where everything may grow and have its place.
- Thus nature of mind cannot arise alone
- Without the body, nor exist afar
- From thews and blood. But if 'twere possible,
- Much rather might this very power of mind
- Be in the head, the shoulders or the heels,
- And, born in any part soever, yet
- In the same man, in the same vessel abide.
- But since within this body even of ours
- Stands fixed and appears arranged sure
- Where soul and mind can each exist and grow,
- Deny we must the more that they can have
- Duration and birth, wholly outside the frame.
- For, verily, the mortal to conjoin
- With the eternal, and to feign they feel
- Together, and can function each with each,
- Is but to dote: for what can be conceived
- Of more unlike, discrepant, ill-assorted,
- Than something mortal in a union joined
- With an immortal and a secular
- To bear the outrageous tempests?
- Then, again,
- Whatever abides eternal must indeed
- Either repel all strokes, because 'tis made
- Of solid body, and permit no entrance
- Of aught with power to sunder from within
- The parts compact- as are those seeds of stuff
- Whose nature we've exhibited before;
- Or else be able to endure through time
- For this: because they are from blows exempt,
- As is the void, the which abides untouched,
- Unsmit by any stroke; or else because
- There is no room around, whereto things can,
- As 'twere, depart in dissolution all,-
- Even as the sum of sums eternal is,
- Without or place beyond whereto things may
- Asunder fly, or bodies which can smite,
- And thus dissolve them by the blows of might.
- But if perchance the soul's to be adjudged
- Immortal, mainly on ground 'tis kept secure
- In vital forces- either because there come
- Never at all things hostile to its weal,
- Or else because what come somehow retire,
- Repelled or ere we feel the harm they work,
- . . . . . .
- For, lo, besides that, when the frame's diseased,
- Soul sickens too, there cometh, many a time,
- That which torments it with the things to be,
- Keeps it in dread, and wearies it with cares;
- And even when evil acts are of the past,
- Still gnaw the old transgressions bitterly.
- Add, too, that frenzy, peculiar to the mind,
- And that oblivion of the things that were;
- Add its submergence in the murky waves
- Of drowse and torpor.
- Therefore death to us
- Is nothing, nor concerns us in the least,
- Since nature of mind is mortal evermore.
- And just as in the ages gone before
- We felt no touch of ill, when all sides round
- To battle came the Carthaginian host,
- And the times, shaken by tumultuous war,
- Under the aery coasts of arching heaven
- Shuddered and trembled, and all humankind
- Doubted to which the empery should fall
- By land and sea, thus when we are no more,
- When comes that sundering of our body and soul
- Through which we're fashioned to a single state,
- Verily naught to us, us then no more,
- Can come to pass, naught move our senses then-
- No, not if earth confounded were with sea,
- And sea with heaven. But if indeed do feel
- The nature of mind and energy of soul,
- After their severance from this body of ours,
- Yet nothing 'tis to us who in the bonds
- And wedlock of the soul and body live,
- Through which we're fashioned to a single state.
- And, even if time collected after death
- The matter of our frames and set it all
- Again in place as now, and if again
- To us the light of life were given, O yet
- That process too would not concern us aught,
- When once the self-succession of our sense
- Has been asunder broken. And now and here,
- Little enough we're busied with the selves
- We were aforetime, nor, concerning them,
- Suffer a sore distress. For shouldst thou gaze
- Backwards across all yesterdays of time
- The immeasurable, thinking how manifold
- The motions of matter are, then couldst thou well
- Credit this too: often these very seeds
- (From which we are to-day) of old were set
- In the same order as they are to-day-
- Yet this we can't to consciousness recall
- Through the remembering mind. For there hath been
- An interposed pause of life, and wide
- Have all the motions wandered everywhere
- From these our senses. For if woe and ail
- Perchance are toward, then the man to whom
- The bane can happen must himself be there
- At that same time. But death precludeth this,
- Forbidding life to him on whom might crowd
- Such irk and care; and granted 'tis to know:
- Nothing for us there is to dread in death,
- No wretchedness for him who is no more,
- The same estate as if ne'er born before,
- When death immortal hath ta'en the mortal life.