Augustine: CONFESSIONES

recordari volo transactas foeditates meas et carnales corruptiones animae meae, non quod eas amem, sed ut amem te, deus meus. amore amoris tui facio istuc, recolens vias meas nequissimas in amaritudine recogitationis meae, ut tu dulcescas mihi, dulcedo non fallax, dulcedo felix et secura, et conligens me a dispersione, in qua frustatim discissus sum dum ab uno te aversus in multa evanui. exarsi enim aliquando satiari inferis in adulescentia, et silvescere ausus sum variis et umbrosis amoribus, et contabuit species mea, et computrui coram oculis tuis placens mihi et placere cupiens oculis hominum.

I wish to recall my past foulnesses and the carnal corruptions of my soul, not that I love them, but that I may love you, my God. By love of your love I do this, recollecting my most wicked ways in the bitterness of my re-cogitation, that you may grow sweet to me, sweetness not fallacious, sweetness blessed and secure, and gathering me from the dispersion in which I was piecemeal torn asunder, while, turned away from you the One, I evaporated into many things. For I once blazed, in adolescence, to be sated with the things below, and I dared to grow wild with various and shadowy loves, and my comeliness wasted away, and I grew putrid before your eyes, pleasing myself and desiring to please the eyes of men.

2.2.2

et quid erat quod me delectabat, nisi amare et amari? sed non tenebatur modus ab animo usque ad animum quatenus est luminosus limes amicitiae, sed exhalabantur nebulae de limosa concupiscentia carnis et scatebra pubertatis, et obnubilabant atque obfuscabant cor meum, ut non discerneretur serenitas dilectionis a caligine libidinis. utrumque in confuso aestuabat et rapiebat inbecillam aetatem per abrupta cupiditatum atque mersabat gurgite flagitiorum.

And what was it that delighted me, if not to love and to be loved? But the measure was not kept from mind to mind, so far as is the luminous limit of friendship; rather, mists were exhaled from the miry concupiscence of the flesh and the gushing fountain of puberty, and they overclouded and obscured my heart, so that the serenity of love was not discerned from the gloom of libido. Both, in a confused surge, were seething and were sweeping my feeble age through the precipices of desires and plunging it into the whirlpool of shameful deeds.

invaluerat super me ira tua, et nesciebam. obsurdueram stridore catenae mortalitatis meae, poena superbiae animae meae, et ibam longius a te et sinebas, et iactabar et effundebar et diffluebam et ebulliebam per fornicationes meas, et tacebas. o tardum gaudium meum!

Your wrath had prevailed over me, and I did not know it. I had grown deaf from the screeching of the chain of my mortality, the penalty of the pride of my soul, and I was going farther from you and you were allowing it, and I was being tossed and being poured out and I was flowing apart and boiling over through my fornications, and you were silent. O my tardy joy!

tacebas tunc, et ego ibam porro longe a te in plura et plura sterilia semina dolorum superba deiectione et inquieta lassitudine.

You were silent then, and I was going on farther, far from you, into more and more sterile seeds of sorrows, with proud dejection and restless lassitude.

2.2.3

quis mihi modularetur aerumnam meam et novissimarum rerum fugaces pulchritudines in usum verteret earumque suavitatibus metas praefigeret, ut usque ad coniugale litus exaestuarent fluctus aetatis meae? si tranquillitas in eis non poterat esse fine procreandorum liberorum contenta (sicut praescribit lex tua, domine, qui formas etiam propaginem mortis nostrae, potens imponere lenem manum ad temperamentum spinarum a paradiso tuo seclusarum; non enim longe est a nobis omnipotentia tua, etiam cum longe sumus a te) — aut certe sonitum nubium tuarum vigilantius adverterem: 'tribulationem autem carnis habebunt huius modi; ego autem vobis parco'; et 'bonum est homini mulierem non tangere'; et 'qui sine uxore est, cogitat ea quae sunt dei, quomodo placeat deo; qui autem matrimonio iunctus est, cogitat ea quae sunt mundi, quomodo placeat uxori.' has ergo voces exaudirem vigilantior, et abscisus propter regnum caelorum felicior expectarem amplexus tuos.

Who would modulate my affliction for me and turn the fugacious beauties of the newest things to use, and set bounds to their sweetnesses, so that the billows of my age might surge only up to the conjugal shore? If tranquility in them could not be, content with the limit of the procreation of children (as your law prescribes, Lord, you who also fashion the propagation of our death, able to lay a gentle hand for the tempering of the thorns shut out from your paradise; for your omnipotence is not far from us, even when we are far from you) — or at least I would more watchfully attend to the sound of your clouds: 'but such as these will have tribulation of the flesh; but I spare you'; and 'it is good for a man not to touch a woman'; and 'he who is without a wife thinks on the things that are God’s, how he may please God; but he who is joined in marriage thinks on the things that are the world’s, how he may please his wife.' These voices, then, I would hear more vigilantly, and, cut off for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, more happy I would await your embraces.

2.2.4

sed efferbui miser, sequens impetum fluxus mei relicto te, et excessi omnia legitima tua nec evasi flagella tua. quis enim hoc mortalium? nam tu semper aderas misericorditer saeviens, et amarissimis aspergens offensionibus omnes inlicitas iucunditates meas, ut ita quaererem sine offensione iucundari, et ubi hoc possem, non invenirem quicquam praeter te, domine, praeter te, qui fingis dolorem in praecepto et percutis ut sanes et occidis nos ne moriamur abs te. ubi eram?

but I boiled over, wretch that I was, following the impetus of my flux with you left behind, and I exceeded all your legitimate bounds, nor did I escape your scourges. For who of mortals has done this? For you were always present, mercifully raging, and with most bitter offenses sprinkling all my illicit pleasures, so that thus I might seek to be delighted without offense, and where I could do this, I would find nothing except you, Lord, except you, who fashion pain in the precept and strike in order to heal and kill us lest we die away from you. Where was I?

et quam longe exulabam a deliciis domus tuae anno illo sexto decimo aetatis carnis meae, cum accepit in me sceptrum (et totas manus ei dedi) vesania libidinis, licentiosae per dedecus humanum, inlicitae autem per leges tuas? non fuit cura meorum ruentem excipere me matrimonio, sed cura fuit tantum ut discerem sermonem facere quam optimum et persuadere dictione.

and how far I was an exile from the delights of your house in that sixteenth year of the age of my flesh, when the insanity of libido took the scepter over me (and I gave it both my hands entirely), licentious through human disgrace, yet illicit by your laws? there was no care on the part of my people to catch me, as I was rushing headlong, by marriage; but there was care only that I should learn to make discourse as excellent as possible and to persuade by diction.

2.3.5

et anno quidem illo intermissa erant studia mea, dum mihi reducto a Madauris, in qua vicina urbe iam coeperam litteraturae atque oratoriae percipiendae gratia peregrinari, longinquioris apud Carthaginem peregrinationis sumptus praeparabantur animositate magis quam opibus patris, municipis Thagastensis admodum tenuis. cui narro haec? neque enim tibi, deus meus, sed apud te narro haec generi meo, generi humano, quantulacumque ex particula incidere potest in istas meas litteras.

and indeed in that year my studies had been intermitted, while, I having been brought back from Madaura— in which neighboring city I had already begun to peregrinate for the sake of receiving instruction in literature and oratory— the expenses of a more long-range peregrination at Carthage were being prepared by the spiritedness rather than the resources of my father, a townsman of Thagaste, very poor. To whom am I narrating these things? For I am not narrating them to you, my God, but in your presence I narrate these things to my kind, the human race, whatever tiny fraction may happen to fall upon these my letters.

et ut quid hoc? ut videlicet ego et quisquis haec legit cogitemus de quam profundo clamandum sit ad te. et quid propius auribus tuis, si cor confitens et vita ex fide est? quis enim non extollebat laudibus tunc hominem, patrem meum, quod ultra vires rei familiaris suae impenderet filio quidquid etiam longe peregrinanti studiorum causa opus esset?

And to what end is this?—namely, that I and whoever reads these things may consider from how profound a depth one must cry out to you. And what is closer to your ears, if there is a confessing heart and a life from faith? For who did not then exalt with praises the man—my father—because he was expending, beyond the powers of his household estate, for his son whatever was needed, even for one journeying far abroad for the sake of studies?

multorum enim civium longe opulentiorum nullum tale negotium pro liberis erat, cum interea non satageret idem pater qualis crescerem tibi aut quam castus essem, dummodo essem disertus, vel desertus potius a cultura tua, deus, qui es unus verus et bonus dominus agri tui, cordis mei.

for among many citizens far more opulent, there was no such undertaking on behalf of their children, while meanwhile that same father did not concern himself with of what sort I might grow to be for you, or how chaste I might be, provided only that I be eloquent—or rather deserted from your cultivation, O God, who are the one true and good lord of your field, my heart.

2.3.6

sed ubi sexto illo et decimo anno, interposito otio ex necessitate domestica, feriatus ab omni schola cum parentibus esse coepi, excesserunt caput meum vepres libidinum, et nulla erat eradicans manus. quin immo ubi me ille pater in balneis vidit pubescentem et inquieta indutum adulescentia, quasi iam ex hoc in nepotes gestiret, gaudens matri indicavit, gaudens vinulentia in qua te iste mundus oblitus est creatorem suum et creaturam tuam pro te amavit, de vino invisibili perversae atque inclinatae in ima voluntatis suae. sed matris in pectore iam inchoaveras templum tuum et exordium sanctae habitationis tuae, nam ille adhuc catechumenus et hoc recens erat.

but when, in that sixteenth year, a leisure interposed by domestic necessity, I began to be on holiday from every school and to be with my parents, the brambles of lusts overran my head, and there was no hand uprooting them. Nay rather, when that father saw me in the baths becoming pubescent and clothed with a restless adolescence, as though already from this he were exulting toward grandsons, rejoicing he indicated it to my mother—rejoicing in the vinulence in which this world, forgetful of you its Creator, has loved your creature in place of you—drunk from the invisible wine of his will, perverted and inclined to the lowest things. But in my mother’s breast you had already begun your temple and the beginning of your holy habitation; for he was still a catechumen, and that too only recently.

itaque illa exilivit pia trepidatione ac tremore et, quamvis mihi nondum fideli, timuit tamen vias distortas in quibus ambulant qui ponunt ad te tergum et non faciem.

and so she sprang up with pious trepidation and tremor, and, although I was not yet faithful, she nevertheless feared the distorted ways on which walk those who set to you their back and not their face.

2.3.7

ei mihi! et audeo dicere tacuisse te, deus meus, cum irem abs te longius? itane tu tacebas tunc mihi?

Alas for me! And do I dare to say that you were silent, my God, when I was going farther away from you? Was it thus that you were silent then to me?

et cuius erant nisi tua verba illa per matrem meam, fidelem tuam, quae cantasti in aures meas? nec inde quicquam descendit in cor, ut facerem illud. volebat enim illa, et secreto memini ut monuerit cum sollicitudine ingenti, ne fornicarer maximeque ne adulterarem cuiusquam uxorem.

and whose were they but yours, those words through my mother, your faithful one, which you sang into my ears? yet from there nothing descended into my heart, so that I should do it. for she did will it, and I remember in secret how she warned, with great solicitude, that I should not fornicate, and most of all that I should not commit adultery with anyone’s wife.

qui mihi monitus muliebres videbantur, quibus obtemperare erubescerem. illi autem tui erant et nesciebam, et te tacere putabam atque illam loqui per quam mihi tu non tacebas, et in illa contemnebaris a me, a me, filio eius, filio ancillae tuae, servo tuo. sed nesciebam et praeceps ibam tanta caecitate ut inter coaetaneos meos puderet me minoris dedecoris, quoniam audiebam eos iactantes flagitia sua et tanto gloriantes magis, quanto magis turpes essent, et libebat facere non solum libidine facti verum etiam laudis.

which seemed to me womanish admonitions, to obey which I would have blushed. Yet they were yours, and I did not know; and I supposed you were silent and that she was speaking, through whom you were not silent to me; and in her you were being contemned by me—I, her son, the son of your handmaid, your servant. But I did not know, and I was rushing headlong with such great blindness that among my coevals I was ashamed to be of lesser disgrace, since I heard them vaunting their flagitious deeds and glorying the more the more foul they were; and it pleased me to do it not only from the libido of the deed but even for the praise.

quid dignum est vituperatione nisi vitium? ego, ne vituperarer, vitiosior fiebam, et ubi non suberat quo admisso aequarer perditis, fingebam me fecisse quod non feceram, ne viderer abiectior quo eram innocentior, et ne vilior haberer quo eram castior.

What is worthy of vituperation except vice? I, lest I be vituperated, was becoming more vicious; and when there was not at hand something by the committing of which I might be made equal to the profligate, I was feigning that I had done what I had not done, lest I might seem more abject the more innocent I was, and lest I be held more vile the more chaste I was.

2.3.8

ecce cum quibus comitibus iter agebam platearum Babyloniae, et volutabar in caeno eius tamquam in cinnamis et unguentis pretiosis. et in umbilico eius quo tenacius haererem, calcabat me inimicus invisibilis et seducebat me, quia ego seductilis eram. non enim et illa quae iam de medio Babylonis fugerat, sed ibat in ceteris eius tardior, mater carnis meae, sicut monuit me pudicitiam, ita curavit quod de me a viro suo audierat, iamque pestilentiosum et in posterum periculosum sentiebat cohercere termino coniugalis affectus, si resecari ad vivum non poterat.

Lo, with what companions I was making a journey through the streets of Babylon, and I was wallowing in its mud as if in cinnamons and precious unguents. And at its navel, where I might cling the more tenaciously, the invisible enemy was trampling me and seducing me, because I was seducible. For even she who had already fled from the midst of Babylon, but was going more slowly through its other parts, my mother according to the flesh, just as she admonished me to pudicity, so she took care about what she had heard of me from her husband, and now judged it pestilential and perilous for the future to restrain by the boundary of conjugal affection, if it could not be cut back to the quick.

non curavit hoc, quia metus erat ne impediretur spes mea compede uxoria, non spes illa quam in te futuri saeculi habebat mater, sed spes litterarum, quas ut nossem nimis volebat parens uterque, ille quia de te prope nihil cogitabat, de me autem inania, illa autem quia non solum nullo detrimento sed etiam nonnullo adiumento ad te adipiscendum futura existimabat usitata illa studia doctrinae. ita enim conicio, recolens ut possum mores parentum meorum. relaxabantur etiam mihi ad ludendum habenae ultra temperamentum severitatis in dissolutionem affectionum variarum, et in omnibus erat caligo intercludens mihi, deus meus, serenitatem veritatis tuae, et prodiebat tamquam ex adipe iniquitas mea.

She did not take care of this, because there was a fear lest my hope be hindered by a wifely fetter, not that hope which my mother had in you for the age to come, but the hope of letters, which both my parents too eagerly wished me to know: he because he thought almost nothing about you, but about me inanities; she, however, because she reckoned that those customary studies of doctrine would be not only of no detriment but even of some aid for attaining you. For so I conjecture, recalling as I can the character of my parents. The reins, too, were loosened for me to play beyond the temperament of severity into a dissolution of various affections, and in all things there was a murk shutting off from me, my God, the serenity of your truth, and my iniquity was coming forth as if out of fatness.

2.4.9

furtum certe punit lex tua, domine, et lex scripta in cordibus hominum, quam ne ipsa quidem delet iniquitas. quis enim fur aequo animo furem patitur? nec copiosus adactum inopia.

theft is certainly punished by your law, Lord, and by the law written in the hearts of men, which not even iniquity itself effaces. for what thief endures a thief with equanimity? nor does the wealthy man endure one driven by indigence.

et ego furtum facere volui et feci, nulla compulsus egestate nisi penuria et fastidio iustitiae et sagina iniquitatis. nam id furatus sum quod mihi abundabat et multo melius, nec ea re volebam frui quam furto appetebam, sed ipso furto et peccato. arbor erat pirus in vicinia nostrae vineae pomis onusta nec forma nec sapore inlecebrosis.

and I too wanted to commit theft and I did so, compelled by no indigence except by a penury and a distaste of justice and a fattening of iniquity. for I stole that which I had in abundance—and much better besides—nor did I wish to enjoy the thing that I was seeking by theft, but the theft itself and the sin. there was a pear tree in the neighborhood of our vineyard, laden with fruits, enticing neither in form nor in flavor.

ad hanc excutiendam atque asportandam nequissimi adulescentuli perreximus nocte intempesta (quousque ludum de pestilentiae more in areis produxeramus) et abstulimus inde onera ingentia, non ad nostras epulas sed vel proicienda porcis, etiamsi aliquid inde comedimus, dum tamen fieret a nobis quod eo liberet quo non liceret. ecce cor meum, deus, ecce cor meum, quod miseratus es in imo abyssi. dicat tibi nunc, ecce cor meum, quid ibi quaerebat, ut essem gratis malus et malitiae meae causa nulla esset nisi malitia.

for the shaking of it and the carrying away, we most wicked adolescent lads set out in the dead of night (until we had prolonged our game in the courtyards after the manner of a pestilence), and from there we removed enormous loads, not for our own banquets but even to be thrown to the pigs—although we ate something from it—provided only that there might be done by us what it was free to do for the very reason that it was not permitted. Behold my heart, God, behold my heart, which you took pity on in the lowest abyss. Let it say to you now—behold my heart—what it was seeking there: that I might be wicked for nothing, and that the cause of my malice might be no cause except malice.

foeda erat, et amavi eam. amavi perire, amavi defectum meum, non illud ad quod deficiebam, sed defectum meum ipsum amavi, turpis anima et dissiliens a firmamento tuo in exterminium, non dedecore aliquid, sed dedecus appetens.

It was foul, and I loved it. I loved to perish; I loved my defection—not that to which I was defecting, but my very defection I loved—a shameful soul, springing away from your firmament into extermination, not seeking some disgraceful thing, but desiring disgrace.

2.5.10

etenim species est pulchris corporibus et auro et argento et omnibus, et in contactu carnis congruentia valet plurimum, ceterisque sensibus est sua cuique adcommodata modificatio corporum. habet etiam honor temporalis et imperitandi atque superandi potentia suum decus, unde etiam vindictae aviditas oritur, et tamen in cuncta haec adipiscenda non est egrediendum abs te, domine, neque deviandum a lege tua. et vita quam hic vivimus habet inlecebram suam propter quendam modum decoris sui et convenientiam cum his omnibus infimis pulchris.

for indeed there is an appearance in beautiful bodies and in gold and silver and in all things, and in the contact of flesh congruence avails very much; and for the other senses too there is, for each, its own accommodated modulation of bodies. temporal honor also, and the power of commanding and of overcoming, has its own comeliness, whence even the avidity of vengeance arises; and yet, in the acquiring of all these things, one must not go forth from you, Lord, nor deviate from your law. and the life which we live here has its own allurement because of a certain mode of its own decor and a convenience with all these lowest beauties.

amicitia quoque hominum caro nodo dulcis est propter unitatem de multis animis. propter universa haec atque huius modi peccatum admittitur, dum immoderata in ista inclinatione, cum extrema bona sint, meliora et summa deseruntur, tu, domine deus noster, et veritas tua, et lex tua. habent enim et haec ima delectationes, sed non sicut deus meus, qui fecit omnia, quia in ipso delectatur iustus, et ipse est deliciae rectorum corde.

the friendship also of men is sweet with a dear knot because of a unity from many souls. on account of all these things and of this sort, sin is admitted, while, by an immoderate inclination toward these—since they are lowest goods—the better and the highest are deserted: you, Lord our God, and your truth, and your law. for even these lowest things have their delectations, but not like my God, who made all things, because in him the just man takes delight, and he himself is the delight of the upright in heart.

2.5.11

cum itaque de facinore quaeritur qua causa factum sit, credi non solet, nisi cum appetitus adipiscendi alicuius illorum bonorum quae infima diximus esse potuisse apparuerit aut metus amittendi. pulchra sunt enim et decora, quamquam prae bonis superioribus et beatificis abiecta et iacentia. homicidium fecit.

Therefore, when inquiry is made about a crime, for what cause it was done, it is not usually credited, unless an appetite for acquiring some of those goods which we have said are the lowest shall have appeared to have been able to be the cause, or a fear of losing them. For they are beautiful and decorous, although, in comparison with the higher and beatific goods, they are abject and lying low. He committed homicide.

cur fecit? adamavit eius coniugem aut praedium, aut voluit depraedari unde viveret, aut timuit ab illo tale aliquid amittere, aut laesus ulcisci se exarsit. num homicidium sine causa faceret ipso homicidio delectatus?

Why did he do it? He fell in love with that man’s spouse or estate, or he wished to depredate something to live off, or he feared to lose some such thing at that man’s hands, or, having been injured, he flared up to avenge himself. Would he commit homicide without a cause, delighted by the homicide itself?

quis crediderit? nam et de quo dictum est, vaecordi et nimis crudeli homine, quod gratuito potius malus atque crudelis erat, praedicta est tamen causa: 'ne per otium,' inquit, 'torpesceret manus aut animus.' quaere id quoque: 'cur ita?' ut scilicet illa exercitatione scelerum capta urbe honores, imperia, divitias adsequeretur et careret metu legum et difficultate rerum propter 'inopiam rei familiaris et conscientiam scelerum'. nec ipse igitur Catilina amavit facinora sua, sed utique aliud cuius causa illa faciebat.

Who would believe it? For even about the man of whom it was said—a witless and excessively cruel man, that he was bad and cruel rather gratuitously—nevertheless a cause was stated beforehand: 'lest through leisure,' he says, 'the hand or the mind grow torpid.' Ask this too: 'why so?' So that, to wit, by that exercise of crimes, with the city captured, he might attain honors, commands, riches, and be without fear of the laws and the difficulty of affairs on account of 'the want of household resources and the conscience of crimes.' Therefore not even Catiline himself loved his crimes, but rather something else, for the sake of which he was doing those things.

2.6.12

quid ego miser in te amavi, o furtum meum, o facinus illud meum nocturnum sexti decimi anni aetatis meae? non enim pulchrum eras, cum furtum esses. aut vero aliquid es, ut loquar ad te? pulchra erant poma illa quae furati sumus, quoniam creatura tua erat, pulcherrime omnium, creator omnium, deus bone, deus summum bonum et bonum verum meum.

What was it that I, wretched, loved in you, O my theft, O that nocturnal crime of mine of the 16th year of my age? For you were not beautiful, since you were a theft. Or indeed are you anything, that I should speak to you? Beautiful were those fruits which we stole, since they were your creature, O most beautiful of all, creator of all, good God, God the highest good and my true good.

pulchra erant illa poma, sed non ipsa concupivit anima mea miserabilis. erat mihi enim meliorum copia, illa autem decerpsi tantum ut furarer. nam decerpta proieci, epulatus inde solam iniquitatem qua laetabar fruens.

Those pears were beautiful, but it was not they themselves that my wretched soul coveted. For I had an abundance of better ones; I plucked those merely in order that I might steal. For, once plucked, I threw them away, having feasted thereon, enjoying only the iniquity in which I rejoiced.

nam et si quid illorum pomorum intravit in os meum, condimentum ibi facinus erat. et nunc, domine deus meus, quaero quid me in furto delectaverit, et ecce species nulla est: non dico sicut in aequitate atque prudentia, sed neque sicut in mente hominis atque memoria et sensibus et vegetante vita, neque sicut speciosa sunt sidera et decora locis suis et terra et mare plena fetibus, qui succedunt nascendo decedentibus — non saltem ut est quaedam defectiva species et umbratica vitiis fallentibus.

for even if any of those apples entered into my mouth, the crime was the seasoning there. and now, Lord my God, I seek what it was in the theft that delighted me, and behold, there is no beauty: I do not mean as in equity and prudence, but not even as in the mind of man and in memory and the senses and in a life in vigor; nor as the stars are beautiful and comely in their places, and the earth and the sea full of their fruits, which by being born succeed those who are departing — not even, at least, of that certain defective and shadowy kind, with vices that delude.

2.6.13

nam et superbia celsitudinem imitatur, cum tu sis unus super omnia deus excelsus. et ambitio quid nisi honores quaerit et gloriam, cum tu sis prae cunctis honorandus unus et gloriosus in aeternum? et saevitia potestatum timeri vult: quis autem timendus nisi unus deus, cuius potestati eripi aut subtrahi quid potest, quando aut ubi aut quo vel a quo potest?

for pride too imitates loftiness, since you are the one God exalted over all things. And what does ambition seek if not honors and glory, since you alone are, before all, to be honored and glorious forever? And the savagery of powers wishes to be feared: but who is to be feared except the one God, from whose power what can be snatched or withdrawn—when or where or whither or by whom can it be?

et blanditiae lascivientium amari volunt: sed neque blandius est aliquid tua caritate nec amatur quicquam salubrius quam illa prae cunctis formosa et luminosa veritas tua. et curiositas affectare videtur studium scientiae, cum tu omnia summe noveris. ignorantia quoque ipsa atque stultitia simplicitatis et innocentiae nomine tegitur, quia te simplicius quicquam non reperitur.

and the flatteries of the lascivious wish to be loved: but neither is anything more winsome than your charity, nor is anything loved more healthfully than that truth of yours, beautiful and luminous beyond all. and curiosity seems to affect the pursuit of science/knowledge, whereas you supremely know all things. ignorance itself and stupidity, too, are veiled under the name of simplicity and innocence, because nothing more simple than you is found.

quid te autem innocentius, quandoquidem opera sua malis inimica sunt? et ignavia quasi quietem appetit: quae vero quies certa praeter dominum? luxuria satietatem atque abundantiam se cupit vocari: tu es autem plenitudo et indeficiens copia incorruptibilis suavitatis.

But what is more innocent than you, since your works are inimical to evils? And sloth, as if, seeks rest: but what sure rest is there besides the Lord? Luxury desires to be called satiety and abundance: but you are the plenitude and unfailing abundance of incorruptible sweetness.

effusio liberalitatis obtendit umbram: sed bonorum omnium largitor affluentissimus tu es. avaritia multa possidere vult: et tu possides omnia. invidentia de excellentia litigat: quid te excellentius? ira vindictam quaerit: te iustius quis vindicat?

effusion of liberality puts forward a shadow: but you are the most affluent bestower of all goods. avarice wishes to possess many things: and you possess all things. envy litigates about excellence: what is more excellent than you? wrath seeks vengeance: who vindicates more justly than you?

timor insolita et repentina exhorrescit rebus quae amantur adversantia, dum praecavet securitati: tibi enim quid insolitum? quid repentinum? aut quis a te separat quod diligis?

fear shudders at the unusual and the sudden, at things adverse to what is loved, while it takes precautions for security: for to you, what is unaccustomed? what is sudden? or who separates from you what you love?

aut ubi nisi apud te firma securitas? tristitia rebus amissis contabescit quibus se oblectabat cupiditas, quia ita sibi nollet, sicut tibi auferri nihil potest.

or where is firm security except with you? sadness wastes away over lost things with which cupidity used to delight itself, because it would not will this for itself, just as nothing can be taken away from you.

2.6.14

ita fornicatur anima, cum avertitur abs te et quaerit extra te ea quae pura et liquida non invenit, nisi cum redit ad te. perverse te imitantur omnes qui longe se a te faciunt et extollunt se adversum te. sed etiam sic te imitando indicant creatorem te esse omnis naturae, et ideo non esse quo a te omni modo recedatur. quid ergo in illo furto ego dilexi, et in quo dominum meum vel vitiose atque perverse imitatus sum? an libuit facere contra legem saltem fallacia, quia potentatu non poteram ut mancam libertatem captivus imitarer, faciendo impune quod non liceret tenebrosa omnipotentiae similitudine?

thus the soul fornicates, when it turns away from you and seeks outside you those things which it does not find pure and limpid, except when it returns to you. perversely all who make themselves far from you and exalt themselves against you imitate you. but even thus, by imitating you, they indicate that you are the creator of every nature, and therefore that there is nowhere whither one can in any way withdraw from you. what then did I love in that theft, and in what did I imitate my Lord vitiously and perversely? or did it please me to do against the law at least by fallacy, since by power I could not, so that I, a captive, might imitate a maimed freedom, doing with impunity what was not permitted, in a shadowy similitude of omnipotence?

ecce est ille servus fugiens dominum suum et consecutus umbram. o putredo, o monstrum vitae et mortis profunditas! potuitne libere quod non licebat, non ob aliud nisi quia non licebat?

Behold, there is that slave fleeing his lord and having caught a shadow. O putridity, O monster, profundity of life and death! Could he freely do what was not licit, for no other reason except that it was not licit?

2.7.15

quid retribuam domino quod recolit haec memoria mea et anima mea non metuit inde? diligam te, domine, et gratias agam et confitear nomini tuo, quoniam tanta dimisisti mihi mala et nefaria opera mea. gratiae tuae deputo et misericordiae tuae quod peccata mea tanquam glaciem solvisti.

What shall I render to the Lord, because this memory of mine recollects these things and my soul does not fear from it? I will love you, Lord, and I will give thanks and confess to your name, since you have remitted such great evils and my nefarious works. I attribute to your grace and to your mercy that you have dissolved my sins like ice.

gratiae tuae deputo et quaecumque non feci mala. quid enim non facere potui, qui etiam gratuitum facinus amavi? et omnia mihi dimissa esse fateor, et quae mea sponte feci mala et quae te duce non feci.

I reckon to your grace also whatever evils I did not do. For what was there that I could not do, I who even loved a gratuitous crime? And I acknowledge that all have been remitted to me—both the evils which I did of my own accord and those which, with you as leader, I did not do.

quis est hominum qui suam cogitans infirmitatem audet viribus suis tribuere castitatem atque innocentiam suam, ut minus amet te, quasi minus ei necessaria fuerit misericordia tua, qua donas peccata conversis ad te? qui enim vocatus a te secutus est vocem tuam et vitavit ea quae me de me ipso recordantem et fatentem legit, non me derideat ab eo medico aegrum sanari a quo sibi praestitum est ut non aegrotaret, vel potius ut minus aegrotaret, et ideo te tantundem, immo vero amplius diligat, quia per quem me videt tantis peccatorum meorum languoribus exui, per eum se videt tantis peccatorum languoribus non implicari.

Who among men is there who, thinking on his own infirmity, dares to attribute his chastity and his innocence to his own powers, so as to love you less, as if your mercy had been less necessary to him, by which you grant sins to be remitted to those converted to you? For whoever, called by you, has followed your voice and has avoided the things which—reading me as recalling and confessing myself—he learns that I did, let him not mock me that the sick man is healed by that physician by whom it was granted to him that he should not fall sick, or rather that he should be less sick; and therefore let him love you as much, nay indeed more, because by the one through whom he sees me stripped of such great languors of my sins, by that one he sees himself not entangled in such great languors of sins.

2.8.16

quem fructum habui miser aliquando in his quae nunc recolens erubesco, maxime in illo furto in quo ipsum furtum amavi, nihil aliud, cum et ipsum esset nihil et eo ipso ego miserior? et tamen solus id non fecissem (sic recordor animum tunc meum), solus omnino id non fecissem. ergo amavi ibi etiam consortium eorum cum quibus id feci.

What fruit did I, wretched, ever have in those things which, recollecting now, I blush at—most of all in that theft in which I loved the theft itself, nothing else, since it itself was nothing and by that very fact I was more wretched? And yet I would not have done it alone (thus I recall my mind then), I would not at all have done it alone. Therefore I loved there also the consortium, the fellowship, of those with whom I did it.

non ergo nihil aliud quam furtum amavi? immo vero nihil aliud, quia et illud nihil est. quid est re vera?

So then did I love nothing other than theft? Nay indeed, nothing other, since that too is nothing. What is it, in truth?

(quis est qui doceat me, nisi qui inluminat cor meum et discernit umbras eius?) quid est? quod mihi venit in mentem quaerere et discutere et considerare, quia si tunc amarem poma illa quae furatus sum et eis frui cuperem, possem etiam solus; si satis esset committere illam iniquitatem qua pervenirem ad voluptatem meam, nec confricatione consciorum animorum accenderem pruritum cupiditatis meae. sed quoniam in illis pomis voluptas mihi non erat, ea erat in ipso facinore quam faciebat consortium simul peccantium.

(who is there who may teach me, unless the one who illuminates my heart and discerns its shadows?) What is it? What has come into my mind to seek and to discuss and to consider, that if at that time I loved those fruits which I stole and desired to enjoy them, I could also have done so alone; if it had been sufficient to commit that iniquity whereby I might attain to my own pleasure, and I did not, by the rubbing-together of accomplices’ minds, inflame the itch of my cupidity. But since in those fruits there was for me no delight, it was in the very crime, which the consortium of those sinning together produced.

2.9.17

quid erat ille affectus animi? certe enim plane turpis erat nimis, et vae mihi erat qui habebam illum. sed tamen quid erat?

What was that affect of the mind? For certainly indeed it was plainly shameful, excessively so, and woe to me who had it. But yet, what was it?

delicta quis intellegit? risus erat quasi titillato corde, quod fallebamus eos qui haec a nobis fieri non putabant et vehementer nolebant. cur ergo eo me delectabat quo id non faciebam solus?

Who understands sins? There was laughter as if with a titillated heart, because we were deceiving those who did not think these things were being done by us and vehemently did not want them. Why then did it delight me the more, in that I was not doing it alone?

an quia etiam nemo facile solus ridet? nemo quidem facile, sed tamen etiam solos et singulos homines, cum alius nemo praesens, vincit risus aliquando, si aliquid nimie ridiculum vel sensibus occurit vel animo. at ego illud solus non facerem, non facerem omnino solus.

or because also no one easily laughs alone? no one indeed easily; yet nevertheless even men alone and singly, when no one else is present, are sometimes conquered by laughter, if something excessively ridiculous occurs either to the senses or to the mind. but that I would not do alone; I would not do it at all alone.

ecce est coram te, deus meus, viva recordatio animae meae. solus non facerem furtum illud, in quo me non libebat id quod furabar sed quia furabar: quod me solum facere prorsus non liberet, nec facerem. o nimis inimica amicitia, seductio mentis investigabilis, ex ludo et ioco nocendi aviditas et alieni damni appetitus nulla lucri mei, nulla ulciscendi libidine!

Behold, before you, my God, is the living recollection of my soul. I would not do that theft alone, in which what pleased me was not what I stole but that I was stealing: a thing which, to do alone, would by no means delight me, nor would I do it. O friendship too inimical, the seduction of the mind inscrutable, from play and jest an avidity for harming and an appetite for another’s loss, with no desire of my gain, no lust of avenging!

sed cum dicitur, 'eamus, faciamus,' et pudet non esse impudentem.

but when it is said, 'let us go, let us do it,' one is ashamed not to be impudent.

2.10.18

quis exaperit istam tortuosissimam et implicatissimam nodositatem? foeda est; nolo in eam intendere, nolo eam videre. te volo, iustitia et innocentia pulchra et decora, honestis luminibus et insatiabili satietate.

Who shall lay open that most tortuous and most entangled nodosity? It is foul; I do not wish to fix my attention on it, I do not wish to see it. You I desire, justice and innocence, beautiful and decorous, with honorable lights and an insatiable satiety.

quies est apud te valde et vita imperturbabilis. qui intrat in te, intrat in gaudium domini sui et non timebit et habebit se optime in optimo. defluxi abs te ego et erravi, deus meus, nimis devius ab stabilitate tua in adulescentia, et factus sum mihi regio egestatis.

There is deep rest with you and an imperturbable life. Whoever enters into you enters into the joy of his Lord and will not fear, and will be most well in the Best. I flowed away from you and I wandered, my God, far astray from your stability in youth, and I became to myself a region of indigence.

Submitted by James J. O'Donnell (Univ. of Pennsylvania) from his new edition. Prof.

O'Donnell's introduction and commentary may be found at the original site: The Confessions of Augustine: An Electronic Edition