Lucretius 3, 894-911: be not afraid of death.

There are many mediaeval churches built betrween1200 -1400 in the province I live in. They are scattered all over the landscape pointing with their towers like fingers to heaven. Many of these are just surrounded by a few houses and farms and all of them are surrounded by graveyards. Whenever I see such a church I like to walk over the graveyard and read the inscriptions on old gravestones. Sometimes they picture a small drama, like carrying the names of four children having died shortly after birth and the name of the mother who died giving birth to the last one. Or a couple of stones with the names of relatively young people who died between 1918 and 1920: the Spanish flue.

These stones date all from a time when healthcare was still in its infancy and death was around everywhere. This is also true for Roman society and no wonder have reflected on death, as is shown by inscriptions on their gravestones.

In the following extract Lucretius tries to take away fear of death or rather fear of being death, having in mind Epicurus’ famous dictum: `Death is nothing to us. When we exist, death is not; and when death exists, we are not’. He imagines a speech at a funeral of a deceased husband:

De Rerum Natura 3, 894-911

'Iam iam non domus accipiet te laeta neque uxor

optima, nec dulces occurrent oscula nati

praeripere et tacita pectus dulcedine tangent.

non poteris factis florentibus esse tuisque

praesidium. misero misere' aiunt 'omnia ademit

una dies infesta tibi tot praemia vitae.'

illud in his rebus non addunt 'nec tibi earum

iam desiderium rerum super insidet una.'

quod bene si videant animo dictisque sequantur,

dissolvant animi magno se angore metuque.

'tu quidem ut es leto sopitus, sic eris aevi

quod superest cunctis privatus doloribus aegris;

at nos horrifico cinefactum te prope busto

insatiabiliter deflevimus, aeternumque

nulla dies nobis maerorem e pectore demet.'

illud ab hoc igitur quaerendum est, quid sit amari

tanto opere, ad somnum si res redit atque quietem,

cur quisquam aeterno possit tabescere luctu.

iam iam non: now no longer

natus: boy child

oscula praeripere: to snatch away kisses

dulcedo dulcidinis (f.): sweetness

factis florentibus: litt `for flourishing deeds’ i.e. be successful

praesidium: protection

misero…tibi: and misere… ademit

adimo ademi ademptum: to take away

infestus: hostile

desiderium (+ gen.): yearning for

tibi: dative of interest

super (adv.):  more

una (adv.): with (you)

si videant animo dictisque sequantur: would perceive this with the mind and  follow this by words. i.e. speak about this.

dissolvent se: they would free themselves

(ex) animi angore:  from anguish of the mind

letum: death

sopio sopivi sopitum: put to sleep 

aevi quod superest: what is left of time

privatus (+ abl.):  be freed from

horrifico cinefactum te prope busto = prope te cinefactum horrifico busto

cinefactus: turned to ashes

bustum: funeral pyre

maeror maeroris (m.): sadness, grief

demo (de-emo) = ademo

ab hoc: the man holdi8ng the funeral speech

quaero quaesivi quaesitum: to ask

quid sit amari tanto opere: what of bitter is so great = why is there such bitterness

si res redit: if the case (of being dead) goes back to = if the case is bgought down to

tabesco tabui: to waste away

luctus luctus (m.): grief, sorrow

 

Mediaeval church at Fransum (Groningen province)

Translation by William Ellery Leonard  (1916)

  "Thee now no more

The joyful house and best of wives shall welcome,

Nor little sons run up to snatch their kisses

And touch with silent happiness thy heart.

Thou shalt not speed in undertakings more,

Nor be the warder of thine own no more.

Poor wretch," they say, "one hostile hour hath ta'en

Wretchedly from thee all life's many guerdons,"

But add not, "yet no longer unto thee

Remains a remnant of desire for them"

If this they only well perceived with mind

And followed up with maxims, they would free

Their state of man from anguish and from fear.

"O even as here thou art, aslumber in death,

So shalt thou slumber down the rest of time,

Released from every harrying pang. But we,

We have bewept thee with insatiate woe,

Standing beside whilst on the awful pyre

Thou wert made ashes; and no day shall take

For us the eternal sorrow from the breast."

But ask the mourner what's the bitterness

That man should waste in an eternal grief,

If, after all, the thing's but sleep and rest?

For when the soul and frame together are sunk

In slumber, no one then demands his self

Or being. Well, this sleep may be forever,

Without desire of any selfhood more,

For all it matters unto us asleep.