Thursday, February 20, 2025

Retired To These Deserts And At Peace

Francisco de Quevedo (1580-1645), Desde la Torre (translated as From the Tower by Elwin Wirkala):

        Retired to these deserts and at peace,
        and with but few, though learnèd, books beside,
        I live conversing now with the deceased,
        and listen with my eyes to those who died.

        Open, whether or not I miss their points,
        they mend or fecundate my everything,
        their music’s muted counterpoints when joined
        with this life’s dream bespeak awakening.

        Great Souls absented by mortality,
        in death avenging injuries of years,
        the learnèd press, Oh Josef, has set free!

        Hours fled forever disappear,
        but they are best accounted for in letters,
        read and studied, when they make us better.

        Retirado en la paz de estos desiertos,
        Con pocos, pero doctos libros juntos,
        Vivo en conversación con los difuntos,
        Y escucho con mis ojos a los muertos.

        Si no siempre entendidos, siempre abiertos,
        O enmiendan, o fecundan mis asuntos;
        Y en músicos callados contrapuntos
        Al sueño de la vida hablan despiertos.

        Las Grandes Almas que la Muerte ausenta,
        De injurias de los años vengadora,
        Libra, ¡oh gran Don Josef!, docta la Imprenta.

        En fuga irrevocable huye la hora;
        Pero aquélla el mejor cálculo cuenta,
        Que en la lección y estudios nos mejora.

Friday, February 14, 2025

Making Room For Another

Henry David Thoreau, Journal, Oct. 24, 1837:

Every part of nature teaches that the passing away of one life is the making room for another. The oak dies down to the ground, leaving within its rind a rich virgin mould, which will impart a vigorous life to an infant forest. The pine leaves a sandy and sterile soil, the harder woods a strong and fruitful mould.

So this constant abrasion and decay makes the soil of my future growth. As I live now so shall I reap. If I grow pines and birches, my virgin mould will not sustain the oak; but pines and birches, or, perchance, weeds and brambles, will constitute my second growth.

Thursday, February 6, 2025

So Tiresome A Scene

David Hume, A Treatise on Human Nature, vol. II., pt. III., sect. X. (ed. T. H. Green & T. H. Grose, London: Longmans, 1882, pp. 226-7):

Human life is so tiresome a scene, and men generally are of such indolent dispositions, that whatever amuses them, tho’ by a passion mixt with pain, does in the main give them a sensible pleasure.

What Cannot Letters Inspire?

Letters of Abelard and Heloise , tr. John Hughes (London, 1776), II., Heloise to Abelard, 87-88: If a picture, which is but a mute represent...