De Rerum Natura
Lucretius
Lucretius. De Rerum Natura. William Ellery Leonard. E. P. Dutton. 1916.
- 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.
- Hence, where thou seest a man to grieve because
- When dead he rots with body laid away,
- Or perishes in flames or jaws of beasts,
- Know well: he rings not true, and that beneath
- Still works an unseen sting upon his heart,
- However he deny that he believes.
- His shall be aught of feeling after death.
- For he, I fancy, grants not what he says,
- Nor what that presupposes, and he fails
- To pluck himself with all his roots from life
- And cast that self away, quite unawares
- Feigning that some remainder's left behind.
- For when in life one pictures to oneself
- His body dead by beasts and vultures torn,
- He pities his state, dividing not himself
- Therefrom, removing not the self enough
- From the body flung away, imagining
- Himself that body, and projecting there
- His own sense, as he stands beside it: hence
- He grieves that he is mortal born, nor marks
- That in true death there is no second self
- Alive and able to sorrow for self destroyed,
- Or stand lamenting that the self lies there
- Mangled or burning. For if it an evil is
- Dead to be jerked about by jaw and fang
- Of the wild brutes, I see not why 'twere not
- Bitter to lie on fires and roast in flames,
- Or suffocate in honey, and, reclined
- On the smooth oblong of an icy slab,
- Grow stiff in cold, or sink with load of earth
- Down-crushing from above.