Then too there comes into the mouth at times The wet of a salt taste, when by the sea We roam about; and so, whene'er we watch The wormword being mixed, its bitter stings.
To such degree from all things is each thing Borne streamingly along, and sent about To every region round; and nature grants Nor rest nor respite of the onward flow, Since 'tis incessantly we feeling have, And all the time are suffered to descry And smell all things at hand, and hear them sound.
Besides, since shape examined by our hands Within the dark is known to be the same As that by eyes perceived within the light And lustrous day, both touch and sight must be By one like cause aroused.So, if we test A square and get its stimulus on us Within the dark, within the light what square Can fall upon our sight, except a square That images the things? Wherefore it seems The source of seeing is in images, Nor without these can anything be viewed.
Now these same films I name are borne about And tossed and scattered into regions all.
But since we do perceive alone through eyes, It follows hence that whitherso we turn Our sight, all things do strike against it there With form and hue.And just how far from us Each thing may be away, the image yields To us the power to see and chance to tell:
For when 'tis sent, at once it shoves ahead And drives along the air that's in the space Betwixt it and our eyes.And thus this air All glides athrough our eyeballs, and, as 'twere, Brushes athrough our pupils and thuswise Passes across.Therefore it comes we see How far from us each thing may be away, And the more air there be that's driven before, And too the longer be the brushing breeze Against our eyes, the farther off removed Each thing is seen to be: forsooth, this work With mightily swift order all goes on, So that upon one instant we may see What kind the object and how far away.
Nor over-marvellous must this be deemed In these affairs that, though the films which strike Upon the eyes cannot be singly seen, The things themselves may be perceived.For thus When the wind beats upon us stroke by stroke And when the sharp cold streams, 'tis not our wont To feel each private particle of wind Or of that cold, but rather all at once;And so we see how blows affect our body, As if one thing were beating on the same And giving us the feel of its own body Outside of us.Again, whene'er we thump With finger-tip upon a stone, we touch But the rock's surface and the outer hue, Nor feel that hue by contact- rather feel The very hardness deep within the rock.
Now come, and why beyond a looking-glass An image may be seen, perceive.For seen It soothly is, removed far within.
'Tis the same sort as objects peered upon Outside in their true shape, whene'er a door Yields through itself an open peering-place, And lets us see so many things outside Beyond the house.Also that sight is made By a twofold twin air: for first is seen The air inside the door-posts; next the doors, The twain to left and right; and afterwards A light beyond comes brushing through our eyes, Then other air, then objects peered upon Outside in their true shape.And thus, when first The image of the glass projects itself, As to our gaze it comes, it shoves ahead And drives along the air that's in the space Betwixt it and our eyes, and brings to pass That we perceive the air ere yet the glass.
But when we've also seen the glass itself, Forthwith that image which from us is borne Reaches the glass, and there thrown back again Comes back unto our eyes, and driving rolls Ahead of itself another air, that then 'Tis this we see before itself, and thus It looks so far removed behind the glass.
Wherefore again, again, there's naught for wonder......
In those which render from the mirror's plane A vision back, since each thing comes to pass By means of the two airs.Now, in the glass The right part of our members is observed Upon the left, because, when comes the image Hitting against the level of the glass, 'Tis not returned unshifted; but forced off Backwards in line direct and not oblique,-Exactly as whoso his plaster-mask Should dash, before 'twere dry, on post or beam, And it should straightway keep, at clinging there, Its shape, reversed, facing him who threw, And so remould the features it gives back:
It comes that now the right eye is the left, The left the right.An image too may be From mirror into mirror handed on, Until of idol-films even five or six Have thus been gendered.For whatever things Shall hide back yonder in the house, the same, However far removed in twisting ways, May still be all brought forth through bending paths And by these several mirrors seen to be Within the house, since nature so compels All things to be borne backward and spring off At equal angles from all other things.
To such degree the image gleams across From mirror unto mirror; where 'twas left It comes to be the right, and then again Returns and changes round unto the left.
Again, those little sides of mirrors curved Proportionate to the bulge of our own flank Send back to us their idols with the right Upon the right; and this is so because Either the image is passed on along From mirror unto mirror, and thereafter, When twice dashed off, flies back unto ourselves;Or else the image wheels itself around, When once unto the mirror it has come, Since the curved surface teaches it to turn To usward.Further, thou might'st well believe That these film-idols step along with us And set their feet in unison with ours And imitate our carriage, since from that Part of a mirror whence thou hast withdrawn Straightway no images can be returned.
Further, our eye-balls tend to flee the bright And shun to gaze thereon; the sun even blinds, If thou goest on to strain them unto him, Because his strength is mighty, and the films Heavily downward from on high are borne Through the pure ether and the viewless winds, And strike the eyes, disordering their joints.
So piecing lustre often burns the eyes, Because it holdeth many seeds of fire Which, working into eyes, engender pain.
