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: