Translations from Lucretius

by Titus Lucretius Carus

But even were I ignorant how things
Were formed of primal elements, yet this
Would I have ventured to affirm, and prove
Not only from the system of the heavens,
But from much other evidence, that nature
Has by no means been fashioned for our benefit
By divine power; so great are the defects
Which are its bane. First, of the whole space
Covered by the enormous reach of heaven,
A greedy portion mountains occupy
And forests of wild beasts; rocks and waste swamps
Possess it, or the wide land-sundering sea.
Besides, well nigh two-thirds are stolen from men
By burning heat and frost ceaselessly falling.
All that is left for husbandry, even that
The force of Nature soon would overspread
With thorns, unless resisted by man’s force,
Ever wont for his livelihood to groan
Over the strong hoe, and with down-pressed plough
To cleave the earth. For if we do not turn
The fertile clods with coulters, and subduing
The soil of earth, summon the crops to birth,
They could not of their own accord spring up
Into the bright air. Even then sometimes,
When answering our long toil throughout the land
Every bud puts forth its leaves and flowers,
Either the sun in heaven scorches them
With too much heat, or sudden gusts of rain
Or nipping frosts destroy them, or wind-storms
Shatter them with impetuous whirling blasts.
Furthermore why does Nature multiply
And nourish terrible tribes of savage beasts
By land and sea, dangerous to mankind?
Why does untimely death range to and fro?
Then again, like a mariner cast ashore
By raging waves, the human infant lies
Naked upon the ground, speechless, in want
Of every help needful for life, when first
Nature by birth-throes from his mother’s womb
Thrusts him into the borders of the light,
So that he fills the room with piteous wailing,
As well he may, whose fate in life will be
To pass through so much misery. But flocks
And herds of divers kind, and the wild beasts,
These, as they grow up, have no need of rattles:
To none of them a foster-nurse must utter
Fond broken speech: they seek not different dresses
To suit each season: no, nor do they need
Weapons nor lofty walls whereby to guard
What is their own, since all things for them all
The Earth herself brings forth abundantly,
And Nature, the creatress manifold.

First of all, since the substance of the earth,
Moisture, and the light breathings of the air,
And burning heats, of which this sum of things
Is seen to be composed, have all been formed
Of a body that was born and that will die,
Of such a body must we likewise deem
That the whole nature of the world was made.
For things whose parts and members we see formed
Of a body that had birth and shapes that die,
These we perceive are themselves always mortal,
And likewise have been born. Since then we see
That the chief parts and members of the world
Decay and are reborn, it is no less certain
That once for heaven and earth there was a time
Of origin, and will be of destruction.

Herein lest you should think that without proof
I have seized this vantage, in that I have assumed
Earth and fire to be mortal, and have not doubted
That moisture and air perish, but maintained
That these too are reborn and grow afresh,
Consider first how no small part of the earth
Ceaselessly baked by the sun’s rays and trampled
By innumerable feet, gives off a mist
And flying clouds of dust, which the strong winds
Disperse through the whole atmosphere. Part too
Of the earth’s soil is turned to swamp by rains,
While scouring rivers gnaw their banks away.
Furthermore whatsoever goes to augment
Some other thing, is in its turn restored;
And since beyond all doubt the all-mother Earth
Is seen to be no less the general tomb,
You thus may see how she is ever lessened,
Yet with new growth increases evermore.

Next, that the sea, the rivers and the springs
Are always amply fed by new supplies
Of moisture oozing up perennially,
It needs no words to explain. The vast down-flow
Of waters from all sides is proof of this.
But as the water that is uppermost
Is always taken away, it comes to pass
That on the whole there is no overflow;
Partly because strong winds, sweeping the seas,
Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweaves
Their fabric with his rays; partly because
The water is distributed below
Throughout all lands. For the salt is strained off,
And the pure fluid matter, oozing back,
Gathers together at the river-heads,
Thence in fresh current streams over the land,
Wherever it finds a channel ready scooped
To carry down its waves with liquid foot.

Now must I speak of air, which every hour
Is changed through its whole body in countless ways.
For always whatsoever flows from things
Is all borne into the vast sea of air:
And if it were not in its turn to give
Particles back to things, recruiting them
As they dissolve, all would have been long since
Disintegrated, and so changed to air.
Therefore it never ceases to be born
Out of things, and to pass back into things,
Since, as we know, all are in constant flux.

Likewise that bounteous fountain of clear light,
The sun in heaven, ceaselessly floods the sky
With fresh brightness, and momently supplies
The place of light with new light: for each former
Emission of his radiance perishes,
On whatsoever spot it falls. This truth
You may thus learn. So soon as clouds begin
To pass below the sun, and as it were
To break off the light’s rays, their lower part
Forthwith perishes wholly, and the earth
Is shadow-swept, wherever the clouds move.
Thus you may know that things have ever need
Of fresh illumination, and that each
Former discharge of radiance perishes,
Nor in any other way could things be seen
In sunlight, if the fountain-head itself
Did not send forth a perpetual supply.
Also those lights we use here upon earth
At night-time, hanging lamps, and torches bright
With darting beams, rich with abundant smoke,
Are in haste in like fashion to supply
New radiance with ministering fire;
The very flames seem eager, eager to flicker;
Nor does the still unbroken stream of light
One instant quit the spots whereon it played,
So suddenly is its perishing concealed
By the swift birth of flame from all these fires.
It is thus then you must think sun moon and stars
Shoot forth their light from ever fresh supplies,
And that they always lose whatever beams
Come foremost; lest perchance you should believe
Their energy to be indestructible.

Again, is it not seen that even stones
By time are vanquished, that tall towers fall
And rocks crumble away, that shrines and idols
Of gods grow worn out and dilapidate,
Nor may the indwelling holiness prolong
The bounds of destiny, or strive against
The laws of Nature? Then do we not see
The monuments of men, fallen to ruin,
Ask for themselves whether you would believe
That they also grow old?[F] See we not rocks
Split off from mountain heights fall crashing down
Unable more to endure the powerful stress
Of finite years? Surely they would not fall
Thus suddenly split off, if through the lapse
Of infinite past years they had withstood
All the assaults of time, without being shattered.
Now contemplate that which around and above
Compasses the whole earth with its embrace.
If it begets all things out of itself,
As some have told us, and receives them back
When they have perished, then the whole sky is made
Of a body that had birth and that must die.
For whatsoever nourishes and augments
Other things from itself, must needs be minished,
And be replenished, when it receives them back.

Moreover, if there never was a time
Of origin when earth and heaven were born,
If they have always been from everlasting,
Why then before the Theban war and Troy’s
Destruction, have not other poets sung
Of other deeds as well? Whither have vanished
So many exploits of so many men?
Why are they nowhere blossoming engrafted
On the eternal monuments of fame?
But in truth, as I think, this sum of things
Is in its youth: the nature of the world
Is recent, and began not long ago.
Wherefore even now some arts are being wrought
To their last polish, some are still in growth.
Of late many improvements have been made
In navigation, and musicians too
Have given birth to new melodious sounds.
Also this theory of the nature of things
Has been discovered lately, and I myself
Have only now been found the very first
Able to turn it into our native words.
Nevertheless, if you perchance believe
That long ago these things were just the same,
But that the generations of mankind
Perished by scorching heat, or that their cities
Fell in some great convulsion of the world,
Or else that flooded by incessant rains
Devouring rivers broke forth over the earth
And swallowed up whole towns, so much the more
Must you admit that there will come to pass
A like destruction of earth and heaven too.
For when things were assailed by such great maladies
And dangers, if some yet more fatal cause
Had whelmed them, they would then have been dissolved
In havoc and vast ruin far and wide.
And in no other way do we perceive
That we are mortal, save that we all alike
In turn fall sick of the same maladies
As those whom Nature has withdrawn from life.

Again, whatever things abide eternally,
Must either, because they are of solid body,
Repulse assaults, nor suffer anything
To penetrate them, which might have the power
To disunite the close-locked parts within:
(Such are those bodies whereof matter is made,
Whose nature we have shown before:) or else
They must be able to endure throughout
All time, because they are exempt from blows,
As void is, which abides untouched, nor suffers
One whit from any stroke: or else because
There is no further space surrounding them,
Into which things might as it were depart
And be dissolved; even as the sum of sums
Is eternal, nor is there any space
Outside it, into which its particles
Might spring asunder, nor are there other bodies
That could strike and dissolve them with strong blows.
But neither, as I have shown, is this world’s nature
Solid, since there is void mixed up in things;
Nor yet is it like void; nor verily
Are atoms lacking that might well collect
Out of the infinite, and overwhelm
This sum of things with violent hurricane,
Or threaten it with some other form of ruin;
Nor further is there any want of room
And of deep space, into which the world’s walls
Might be dispersed abroad; or they may perish
Shattered by any other force you will.
Therefore the gates of death are never closed
Against sky, sun or earth, or the deep seas;
But they stand open, awaiting them with huge
Vast-gaping jaws. So you must needs admit
That all these likewise once were born: for things
Of mortal body could not until now
Through infinite past ages have defied
The strong powers of immeasurable time.

Again, since the chief members of the world
So mightily contend together, stirred
By unhallowed civil warfare, see you not
That some end may be set to their long strife?
It may be when the sun and every kind
Of heat shall have drunk all the moisture up,
And gained the mastery they were struggling for,
Though they have failed as yet to achieve their aim:
So vast are the supplies the rivers bring,
Threatening in turn to deluge every land
From out the deep abysses of the ocean;
All in vain, since the winds, sweeping the seas,
Diminish them, and the sun in heaven unweaves
Their fabric with his rays; and ’tis their boast
That they are able to dry all things up,
Before moisture can achieve its end.
So terrible a war do they breathe out
On equal terms, striving one with another
For mighty issues: though indeed fire once
Obtained the mastery, so the fable tells,
And water once reigned supreme in the fields.
For fire prevailing licked up and consumed
Many things, when the ungovernable might
Of the Sun’s horses, swerving from their course,
Through the whole sky and over every land
Whirled Phaëthon. But then the almighty Father,
Stirred to fierce wrath, with sudden thunder-stroke
Dashed great-souled Phaëthon from his team to the earth,
And as he fell the Sun-god meeting him
Caught from him the world’s everlasting lamp,
And brought back tamed and trembling to the yoke
The scattered steeds; then on their wonted course
Guiding them, unto all things gave fresh life.
Thus verily the old Greek poets sang,
Though straying from true reason all too far.
For fire can only gain the mastery
When an excess of fiery particles
Have flocked together out of infinite space;
And then its strength fails, vanquished in some way,
Or else things perish, utterly consumed
By scorching gusts. Likewise moisture once
Gathering together, as the story tells,
Strove for the mastery, when it overwhelmed
Many cities of mankind. But afterwards,
When all that force, which out of infinite space
Had gathered itself up, was by some means
Diverted and withdrew, the rains ceased then,
And the violence of the rivers was abated.