And to whate'er pursuit A man most clings absorbed, or what the affairs On which we theretofore have tarried much, And mind hath strained upon the more, we seem In sleep not rarely to go at the same.
The lawyers seem to plead and cite decrees, Commanders they to fight and go at frays, Sailors to live in combat with the winds, And we ourselves indeed to make this book, And still to seek the nature of the world And set it down, when once discovered, here In these my country's leaves. Thus all pursuits, All arts in general seem in sleeps to mock And master the minds of men. And whosoever Day after day for long to games have given Attention undivided, still they keep (As oft we note), even when they've ceased to grasp Those games with their own senses, open paths Within the mind wherethrough the idol-films Of just those games can come. And thus it is For many a day thereafter those appear Floating before the eyes, that even awake They think they view the dancers moving round Their supple limbs, and catch with both the ears The liquid song of harp and speaking chords, And view the same assembly on the seats, And manifold bright glories of the stage-So great the influence of pursuit and zest, And of the affairs wherein 'thas been the wont Of men to be engaged-nor only men, But soothly all the animals. Behold, Thou'lt see the sturdy horses, though outstretched, Yet sweating in their sleep, and panting ever, And straining utmost strength, as if for prize, As if, with barriers opened now...
And hounds of huntsmen oft in soft repose Yet toss asudden all their legs about, And growl and bark, and with their nostrils sniff The winds again, again, as though indeed They'd caught the scented foot-prints of wild beasts, And, even when wakened, often they pursue The phantom images of stags, as though They did perceive them fleeing on before, Until the illusion's shaken off and dogs Come to themselves again. And fawning breed Of house-bred whelps do feel the sudden urge To shake their bodies and start from off the ground, As if beholding stranger-visages.
And ever the fiercer be the stock, the more In sleep the same is ever bound to rage.
But flee the divers tribes of birds and vex With sudden wings by night the groves of gods, When in their gentle slumbers they have dreamed Of hawks in chase, aswooping on for fight.
Again, the minds of mortals which perform With mighty motions mighty enterprises, Often in sleep will do and dare the same In manner like. Kings take the towns by storm, Succumb to capture, battle on the field, Raise a wild cry as if their throats were cut Even then and there. And many wrestle on And groan with pains, and fill all regions round With mighty cries and wild, as if then gnawed By fangs of panther or of lion fierce.
Many amid their slumbers talk about Their mighty enterprises, and have often Enough become the proof of their own crimes.
Many meet death; many, as if headlong From lofty mountains tumbling down to earth With all their frame, are frenzied in their fright;And after sleep, as if still mad in mind, They scarce come to, confounded as they are By ferment of their frame. The thirsty man, Likewise, he sits beside delightful spring Or river and gulpeth down with gaping throat Nigh the whole stream. And oft the innocent young, By sleep o'ermastered, think they lift their dress By pail or public jordan and then void The water filtered down their frame entire And drench the Babylonian coverlets, Magnificently bright. Again, those males Into the surging channels of whose years Now first has passed the seed (engendered Within their members by the ripened days)Are in their sleep confronted from without By idol-images of some fair form-Tidings of glorious face and lovely bloom, Which stir and goad the regions turgid now With seed abundant; so that, as it were With all the matter acted duly out, They pour the billows of a potent stream And stain their garment.
And as said before, That seed is roused in us when once ripe age Has made our body strong...
As divers causes give to divers things Impulse and irritation, so one force In human kind rouses the human seed To spurt from man. As soon as ever it issues, Forced from its first abodes, it passes down In the whole body through the limbs and frame, Meeting in certain regions of our thews, And stirs amain the genitals of man.
The goaded regions swell with seed, and then Comes the delight to dart the same at what The mad desire so yearns, and body seeks That object, whence the mind by love is pierced.
For well-nigh each man falleth toward his wound, And our blood spurts even toward the spot from whence The stroke wherewith we are strook, and if indeed The foe be close, the red jet reaches him.
Thus, one who gets a stroke from Venus' shafts-Whether a boy with limbs effeminate Assault him, or a woman darting love From all her body- that one strains to get Even to the thing whereby he's hit, and longs To join with it and cast into its frame The fluid drawn even from within its own.
For the mute craving doth presage delight.
THE PASSION OF LOVE
This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us:
From this, engender all the lures of love, From this, O first hath into human hearts Trickled that drop of joyance which ere long Is by chill care succeeded. Since, indeed, Though she thou lovest now be far away, Yet idol-images of her are near And the sweet name is floating in thy ear.
But it behooves to flee those images;
And scare afar whatever feeds thy love;
And turn elsewhere thy mind; and vent the sperm, Within thee gathered, into sundry bodies, Nor, with thy thoughts still busied with one love, Keep it for one delight, and so store up Care for thyself and pain inevitable.
For, lo, the ulcer just by nourishing Grows to more life with deep inveteracy, And day by day the fury swells aflame, And the woe waxes heavier day by day-Unless thou dost destroy even by new blows The former wounds of love, and curest them While yet they're fresh, by wandering freely round After the freely-wandering Venus, or Canst lead elsewhere the tumults of thy mind.