Читать книгу Translations from Lucretius - Тит Лукреций Кар - Страница 3

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Thou mother of the Aenead race, delight

Of men and deities, bountiful Venus, thou

Who under the sky’s gliding constellations

Fillest ship-carrying ocean with thy presence

And the corn-bearing lands, since through thy power

Each kind of living creature is conceived

Then riseth and beholdeth the sun’s light:

Before thee and thine advent the winds and clouds

Of heaven take flight, O goddess: daedal earth

Puts forth sweet-scented flowers beneath thy feet:

Beholding thee the smooth deep laughs, the sky

Grows calm and shines with wide-outspreading light.

For soon as the day’s vernal countenance

Has been revealed, and fresh from wintry bonds

Blows the birth-giving breeze of the West wind,

First do the birds of air give sign of thee,

Goddess, and thine approach, as through their hearts

Thine influence smites. Next the wild herds of beasts

Bound over the rich pastures and swim through

The rapid streams, as captured by thy charm

Each one with eager longing follows thee

Whithersoever thou wouldst lure them on.

And thus through seas, mountains and rushing rivers,

Through the birds’ leafy homes and the green plains,

Striking bland love into the hearts of all,

Thou art the cause that following his lust

Each should renew his race after his kind.

Therefore since thou alone art nature’s mistress,

And since without thine aid naught can rise forth

Into the glorious regions of the light,

Nor aught grow to be gladsome and delectable,

Thee would I win to help me while I write

These verses, wherein I labour to describe

The nature of things in honour of my friend

This scion of the Memmian house, whom thou

Hast willed to be found peerless all his days

In every grace. Therefore the more, great deity,

Grant to my words eternal loveliness:

Cause meanwhile that the savage works of warfare

Over all seas and lands sink hushed to rest.

For thou alone hast power to bless mankind

With tranquil peace; since of war’s savage works

Mavors mighty in battle hath control,

Who oft flings himself back upon thy lap,

Quite vanquished by love’s never-healing wound;

And so with upturned face and shapely neck

Thrown backward, feeds with love his hungry looks,

Gazing on thee, goddess, while thus he lies

Supine, and on thy lips his spirit hangs.

O’er him thus couched upon thy holy body

Do thou bend down to enfold him, and from thy lips

Pour tender speech, petitioning calm peace,

O glorious divinity, for thy Romans.

For nor can we in our country’s hour of trouble

Toil with a mind untroubled at our task,

Nor yet may the famed child of Memmius

Be spared from public service in such times.

For the rest,[A] leisured ears and a keen mind Withdrawn from cares, lend to true reasoning, Lest my gifts, which with loving diligence I set out for you, ere they be understood You should reject disdainfully. For now About the most high theory of the heavens And of the deities, I will undertake To tell you in my discourse, and will reveal The first beginnings of existing things, Out of which nature gives birth and increase And nourishment to all things; into which Nature likewise, when they have been destroyed, Resolves them back in turn. These we are wont, In setting forth our argument, to call Matter, or else begetting particles, Or to name them the seeds of things: again As primal atoms we shall speak of them, Because from them first everything is formed.

When prostrate upon earth lay human life

Visibly trampled down and foully crushed

Beneath religion’s cruelty, who meanwhile

Forth from the regions of the heavens above

Showed forth her face, lowering down on men

With horrible aspect, first did a man of Greece[B] Dare to lift up his mortal eyes against her; The first was he to stand up and defy her. Him neither stories of the gods, nor lightnings, Nor heaven with muttering menaces could quell, But all the more did they arouse his soul’s Keen valour, till he longed to be the first To break through the fast-bolted doors of nature. Therefore his fervent energy of mind Prevailed, and he passed onward, voyaging far Beyond the flaming ramparts of the world, Ranging in mind and spirit far and wide Throughout the unmeasured universe; and thence A conqueror he returns to us, bringing back Knowledge both of what can and what cannot Rise into being, teaching us in fine Upon what principle each thing has its powers Limited, and its deep-set boundary stone. Therefore now has religion been cast down Beneath men’s feet, and trampled on in turn: Ourselves heaven-high his victory exalts.

Herein this fear assails me, lest perchance

You should suppose I would initiate you

Into a school of reasoning unholy,

And set your feet upon a path of sin:

Whereas in truth often has this religion

Given birth to sinful and unholy deeds.

So once at Aulis did those chosen chiefs

Of Hellas, those most eminent among heros,

Foully defile the Trivian Virgin’s altar

With Iphianassa’s lifeblood. For so soon

As the fillet wreathed around her maiden locks

Streamed down in equal lengths from either cheek,

And soon as she was aware of her father standing

Sorrowful by the altar, and at his side

The priestly ministers hiding the knife,

And the folk shedding tears at sight of her,

Speechless in terror, dropping on her knees

To the earth she sank down. Nor in that hour

Of anguish might it avail her that she first

Had given the name of father to the king;

For by the hands of men lifted on high

Shuddering to the altar she was borne,

Not that, when the due ceremonial rites

Had been accomplished, she might be escorted

By the clear-sounding hymenaeal song,

But that a stainless maiden foully stained,

In the very season of marriage she might fall

A sorrowful victim by a father’s stroke,

That so there might be granted to the fleet

A happy and hallowed sailing. Such the crimes

Whereto religion has had power to prompt.

Yet there may come a time when you yourself,

Surrendering to the terror-breathing tales

Of seers and bards, will seek to abandon us.

Ay verily, how many dreams even now

May they be forging for you, which might well

Overturn your philosophy of life,

And trouble all your happiness with fear!

And with good cause: for if men could perceive

That there was a fixed limit to their sorrows,

By some means they would find strength to withstand

The hallowed lies and threatenings of these seers.

But as it is, men have no means, no power

To make a stand, since everlasting seem

The penalties that they must fear in death.

For none knows what is the nature of the soul,

Whether ’tis born, or on the contrary

Enters into our bodies at their birth:

Whether, when torn from us by death, it perishes

Together with us, or thereafter goes

To visit Orcus’ glooms and the vast chasms;

Or penetrates by ordinance divine

Into brutes in man’s stead, as sang our own

Ennius, who first from pleasant Helicon

Brought down a garland of unfading leaf,

Destined among Italian tribes of men

To win bright glory. And yet in spite of this

Ennius sets forth in immortal verse

That none the less there does exist a realm

Of Acheron, though neither do our souls

Nor bodies penetrate thither, but a kind

Of phantom images, pale in wondrous wise:

And thence it was, so he relates, that once

The ghost of ever-living Homer rose

Before him, shedding salt tears, and began

To unfold in discourse the nature of things.

Therefore not only must we grasp the truth

Concerning things on high, what principle

Controls the courses of the sun and moon,

And by what force all that takes place on earth

Is governed, but above all by keen thought

We must investigate whereof consists

The soul and the mind’s nature, and what it is

That comes before us when we wake, if then

We are preyed on by disease, or when we lie

Buried in sleep, and terrifies our minds,

So that we seem face to face to behold

And hear those speaking to us who are dead,

Whose bones the earth now holds in its embrace.

Nor am I unaware how hard my task

In Latin verses to set clearly forth

The obscure truths discovered by the Greeks,

Chiefly because so much will need new terms

To deal with it, owing to our poverty

Of language, and the novelty of the themes.

Nevertheless your worth and the delight

Of your sweet friendship, which I hope to win,

Prompt me to bear the burden of any toil,

And lead me on to watch the calm nights through,

Seeking by means of what words and what measures

I may attain my end, and shed so clear

A light upon your spirit, that thereby

Your gaze may search the depths of hidden things.

This terror, then, and darkness of the mind

Must needs be scattered not by the sun’s beams

And day’s bright arrows, but by contemplation

Of nature’s aspect and her inward law.

And this first principle of her design

Shall be our starting point: nothing is ever

By divine will begotten out of nothing.

In truth the reason fear so dominates

All mortals, is that they behold on earth

And in the sky many things happening,

Yet of these operations by no means

Can they perceive the causes, and so fancy

That they must come to pass by power divine.

Therefore when we have understood that nothing

Can be born out of nothing, we shall then

Win juster knowledge of the truth we seek,

Both from what elements each thing can be formed,

And in what way all things can come to pass

Without the intervention of the gods.

For if things came from nothing, any kind

Might be born out of anything; naught then

Would require seed. Thus men might rise from ocean

The scaly race out of the land, while birds

Might suddenly be hatched forth from the sky:

Cattle and other herds and every kind

Of wild beast, bred by no fixed law of birth,

Would roam o’er tilth and wilderness alike.

No fruit would remain constant to its tree,

But would change; every tree would bear all kinds.

For if there were not for each thing its own

Begetting particles, how could they have

A fixed unvarying mother? But in fact

Since all are formed from fixed seeds, each is born

And issues into the borders of the light

From that alone wherein resides its substance

And its first bodies. And for this cause all things

Cannot be generated out of all,

Since in each dwells its own particular power.

Again why do we see in spring the rose,

Corn in the summer’s heat, vines bursting forth

When autumn summons them, if not because

When in their own time the fixed seeds of things

Have flowed together, there is then revealed

Whatever has been born, while the due seasons

Are present, and the quickened earth brings forth

Safely into the borders of the light

Its tender nurslings? But if they were formed

From nothing, they would suddenly spring up

At unfixed periods and hostile times,

Since there would then be no fixed particles

To be kept from a begetting union

By the unpropitious season of the year.

Nor yet after the meeting of the seed

Would lapse of time be needed for their increase,

If they could grow from nothing. Suddenly

Small babes would become youths; trees would arise

Shooting up in a moment from the ground.

But nothing of the kind, ’tis plain, takes place,

Seeing that all things grow little by little,

As befits, from determined seed, and growing

Preserve their kind: so that you may perceive

That all things become greater and are nourished

Out of their own material. Furthermore

Without fixed annual seasons for the rain

Earth could not put her gladdening produce forth,

Nor yet, if kept apart from nourishment,

Could living creatures propagate their kind

Or sustain life: so that with greater reason

You may think many things have many atoms

In common, as we see that different words

Have common letters, than that anything

Can come to being without first elements.

Again, why could not nature have produced

Men of such mighty bulk, that they could wade

Through the deep places of the sea, or rend

Huge mountains with their hands, or in one life

Overpass many living generations,

If not because there has been set apart

A changeless substance for begetting things,

And what can thence arise is predetermined?

Therefore we must confess this truth, that nothing

Can come from nothing, since seed is required

For each thing, out of which it may be born

And lift itself into the air’s soft breezes.

Lastly, since it is evident that tilled lands

Excel the untilled, and yield to labouring hands

A richer harvest, we may thence infer

That in the earth there must be primal atoms,

And these, labouring its soil, we stimulate

To rise, when with the coulter we turn up

The fertile clods. But if none such existed,

We should see all things without toil of ours

Spring forth far richer of their own accord.

Furthermore nature dissolves each form back

Into its own first particles, nor ever

Annihilates things. For if aught could be mortal

In all its parts, then it might from our eyes

Be snatched away to perish suddenly.

For there would be no need of any force

To cause disruption of its parts, and loosen

Their fastenings. But in fact each is composed

Of everlasting seeds; so till some force

Arrives that with a blow can shatter things

To pieces, or can penetrate within

Their empty spaces, and so break them up,

Nature will not permit the dissolution

Of anything to be seen. Again, if time

Utterly destroys, consuming all the substance

Of whatsoever it removes from sight

Through lapse of ages, out of what does Venus

Bring back into the light of life the race

Of living creatures each after its kind?

Or, once brought back, whence does the daedal earth

Feed and increase them, giving nourishment

To each after its kind? Whence do its own

Fountains and far-drawn rivers from without

Keep full the sea? Whence does the ether feed

The stars? For infinite time and lapse of days

Surely must long since have devoured all things

Formed of a body that must die. But if

Throughout that period of time long past

Those atoms have existed out of which

This universe of things has been composed

And recomposed, ’tis plain they are possessed

Of an immortal nature: none of them

Therefore can turn to nothing. Then again

The same force and the same cause would destroy

All things without distinction, were it not

That an eternal substance held them fast,

A substance interwoven part with part

By bonds more or less close. For without doubt

A mere touch would be cause enough for death,

Seeing that any least amount of force

Must needs dissolve the texture of such things,

No one of which had an eternal body.

But in fact since the mutual fastenings

Between first elements are dissimilar,

And their substance eternal, things endure

With body uninjured, till some force arrives

Strong enough to dissolve the texture of each.

Therefore no single thing ever returns

To nothing, but at their disruption all

Pass back into the elements of matter.

Lastly the rain showers perish, when the sky father

Has flung them into the lap of mother earth.

But then bright crops spring up luxuriantly;

Boughs on the trees are green; the trees themselves

Grow, and with fruits are laden: from this source

Moreover both our own race and the race

Of beasts are nourished; for this cause we see

Glad towns teeming with children, leafy woods

With young birds’ voices singing on all sides;

For this cause cattle about the fertile meadows

Wearied with fatness lay their bodies down,

And from their swollen udders oozing falls

The white milk stream; for this cause a new brood

Bounds on weak limbs over the soft grass, frisking

And gamboling, their young hearts with pure milk thrilled.

None therefore of those things that seem to perish

Utterly perishes, since nature forms

One thing out of another, and permits

Nothing to be begotten, unless first

She has been recruited by another’s death.

Now listen: since I have proved to you that things

Cannot be formed from nothing, lest you yet

Should tend in any way to doubt my words,

Because the primal particles of things

Can never be distinguished by the eyes,

I will proceed to give you instances

Of bodies which yourself you must admit

Are real things, yet cannot be perceived.

First the wind’s wakened force scourges the sea,

Whelming huge ships and scattering the clouds;

And sometimes with impetuous hurricane

Scouring the plains, it strews them with great trees,

And ravages with forest-rending blasts

The mountain-tops: with such rude savagery

Does the wind howl and bluster and wreak its rage

With menacing uproar. Therefore past all doubt

Winds must be formed of unseen particles

That sweep the seas, the lands, the clouds of heaven,

Ravaging and dishevelling them all

With fitful hurricane gusts. Onward they stream

Multiplying destruction, just as when

The soft nature of water suddenly

Swoops forward in one overwhelming flood

Swelled with abundant rains by a mighty spate

Of water rushing down from the high hills,

Hurtling together broken forest boughs

And entire trees: nor can the sturdy bridges

Sustain the oncoming water’s sudden force:

In such wise turbulent with much rain the river

Flings its whole mighty strength against the piles.

With a loud crashing roar it then deals havoc,

And rolls the huge stones on beneath its waves,

Sweeping before it all that stems its flood.

In this way then wind-blasts must likewise move;

And when like a strong stream they have hurled themselves

Towards any quarter, they thrust things along

And with repeated onslaughts overwhelm them,

Often in writhing eddy seizing them

To bear them away in swiftly circling swirl.

Therefore beyond all doubt winds are composed

Of unseen atoms, since in their works and ways

We find that they resemble mighty rivers

Which are of visible substance. Then again

We can perceive the various scents of things,

Yet never see them coming to our nostrils:

Heat too we see not, nor can we observe

Cold with our eyes, nor ever behold words:

Yet must all these be of a bodily nature,

Since they are able to act upon our senses.

For naught can touch or be touched except body.

Clothes also, hung up on a shore where waves

Are breaking, become moist, and then grow dry

If spread out in the sun. Yet in what way

The water’s moisture has soaked into them,

Has not been seen, nor again in what way

The heat has driven it out. The moisture therefore

Is dispersed into tiny particles,

Which our eyes have no power to see at all.

Furthermore after many revolutions

Of the sun’s year, a finger-ring is thinned

On the under side by being worn: the fall

Of dripping eave-drops hollows out a stone:

The bent ploughshare of iron insensibly

Grows smaller in the fields; and we behold

The paving stones of roads worn down at length

By the footsteps of the people. Then again

The brazen statues at the city gates

Show right hands wearing thinner by the touch

Of those who greet them ever as they pass by.

Thus we perceive that all such things grow less

Because they have been worn down: and yet what atoms

Are leaving them each moment, that the jealous

Nature of vision has quite shut us out

From seeing. Finally whatever time

And nature gradually add to things,

Obliging them to grow in due proportion,

No effort of our eyesight can behold.

So too whenever things grow old by age

Or through corruption, and wherever rocks

That overhang the sea are gnawed away

By the corroding brine, you cannot discern

What they are losing at any single moment.

Thus nature operates by unseen atoms.