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La scrittura, un sistema di segni durevoli che permette di trasmettere e conservare le informazioni, ha cominciato a svilupparsi tra il VII e il IV millennio a. Quando i sistemi di scrittura furono inventati furono utilizzati quei materiali che permettevano la registrazione di informazioni sotto forma scritta: La scrittura alfabetica emerse in Egitto circa 5.

Gli antichi Egizi erano soliti scrivere scrivere sul papiro , una pianta coltivata lungo il fiume Nilo. I testi venivano scritti da destra a sinistra, da sinistra a destra, e anche in modo che le linee alternate si leggessero in direzioni opposte. Le tavolette di cera erano assicelle di legno ricoperte da uno strato abbastanza spesso di cera che veniva incisa da uno stilo.

Avevano il vantaggio di essere riutilizzabili: Erano utilizzate anche le cortecce di albero, come per esempio quelle della Tilia , e altri materiali consimili. Secondo Erodoto Storie 5: La parola greca per papiro come materiale di scrittura biblion e libro biblos proviene dal porto fenicio di Biblo , da dove si esportava il papiro verso la Grecia.

Tomus fu usato dai latini con lo stesso significato di volumen vedi sotto anche la spiegazione di Isidoro di Siviglia. Che fossero fatti di papiro, pergamena o carta, i rotoli furono la forma libraria dominante della cultura ellenistica , romana , cinese ed ebraica. Gli autori cristiani potrebbero anche aver voluto distinguere i loro scritti dai testi pagani scritti su rotoli.

La storia del libro continua a svilupparsi con la graduale transizione dal rotolo al codex , spostandosi dal Vicino Oriente del II - II millennio a. Fino al II secolo d. Anche nei suoi distici, Marziale continua a citare il codex: Dal II secolo a. Nel mondo antico non godette di molta fortuna a causa del prezzo elevato rispetto a quello del papiro. Il libro in forma di rotolo consisteva in fogli preparati da fibre di papiro phylire disposte in uno strato orizzontale lo strato che poi riceveva la scrittura sovrapposto ad uno strato verticale la faccia opposta.

La scrittura era effettuata su colonne, generalmente sul lato del papiro che presentava le fibre orizzontali. Non si hanno molte testimonianze sui rotoli di pergamena tuttavia la loro forma era simile a quella dei libri in papiro. Gli inchiostri neri utilizzati erano a base di nerofumo e gomma arabica.

Dal II secolo d. La vecchia forma libraria a rotolo scompare in ambito librario. In forma notevolmente differente permane invece in ambito archivistico. Nel Medio Evo si fanno strada alcune innovazioni: Le parole di Marziale danno la distinta impressione che tali edizioni fossero qualcosa di recentemente introdotto.

Sono stati rinvenuti "taccuini" contenenti fino a dieci tavolette. Nel tempo, furono anche disponibili modelli di lusso fatti con tavolette di avorio invece che di legno.

Ai romani va il merito di aver compiuto questo passo essenziale, e devono averlo fatto alcuni decenni prima della fine del I secolo d. Il grande vantaggio che offrivano rispetto ai rolli era la capienza, vantaggio che sorgeva dal fatto che la facciata esterna del rotolo era lasciata in bianco, vuota. Il codice invece aveva scritte entrambe le facciate di ogni pagina, come in un libro moderno. Ipsius vultus prima tabella gerit. La prima pagina porta il volto del poeta.

I codici di cui parlava erano fatti di pergamena ; nei distici che accompagnavano il regalo di una copia di Omero , per esempio, Marziale la descrive come fatta di "cuoio con molte pieghe". Ma copie erano anche fatte di fogli di papiro. Quando i greci ed i romani disponevano solo del rotolo per scrivere libri, si preferiva usare il papiro piuttosto che la pergamena.

I ritrovamenti egiziani ci permettono di tracciare il graduale rimpiazzo del rotolo da parte del codice. Fece la sua comparsa in Egitto non molto dopo il tempo di Marziale, nel II secolo d. Il suo debutto fu modesto. Verso il d. I ritrovamenti egiziani gettano luce anche sulla transizione del codex dal papiro alla pergamena. Sebbene gli undici codici della Bibbia datati in quel secolo fossero papiracei, esistono circa 18 codici dello stesso secolo con scritti pagani e quattro di questi sono in pergamena.

Non ne scegliemmo alcuno, ma ne raccogliemmo altri otto per i quali gli diedi dracme in conto. Il codex tanto apprezzato da Marziale aveva quindi fatto molta strada da Roma. Night of south winds--night of the large few stars! Still nodding night--mad naked summer night. Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset--earth of the mountains misty-topt!

Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!

Smile, for your lover comes. Prodigal, you have given me love--therefore I to you give love! O unspeakable passionate love. I resign myself to you also--I guess what you mean, I behold from the beach your crooked fingers, I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me, We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land, Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse, Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you.

I am he attesting sympathy, Shall I make my list of things in the house and skip the house that supports them? I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also.

What blurt is this about virtue and about vice? Did you fear some scrofula out of the unflagging pregnancy? I find one side a balance and the antipedal side a balance, Soft doctrine as steady help as stable doctrine, Thoughts and deeds of the present our rouse and early start.

This minute that comes to me over the past decillions, There is no better than it and now. What behaved well in the past or behaves well to-day is not such wonder, The wonder is always and always how there can be a mean man or an infidel. And mine a word of the modern, the word En-Masse. A word of the faith that never balks, Here or henceforward it is all the same to me, I accept Time absolutely.

It alone is without flaw, it alone rounds and completes all, That mystic baffling wonder alone completes all. I accept Reality and dare not question it, Materialism first and last imbuing. Hurrah for positive science!

Fetch stonecrop mixt with cedar and branches of lilac, This is the lexicographer, this the chemist, this made a grammar of the old cartouches, These mariners put the ship through dangerous unknown seas.

This is the geologist, this works with the scalper, and this is a mathematician. Gentlemen, to you the first honors always! Your facts are useful, and yet they are not my dwelling, I but enter by them to an area of my dwelling.

Less the reminders of properties told my words, And more the reminders they of life untold, and of freedom and extrication, And make short account of neuters and geldings, and favor men and women fully equipt, And beat the gong of revolt, and stop with fugitives and them that plot and conspire.

Unscrew the locks from the doors! Unscrew the doors themselves from their jambs! Whoever degrades another degrades me, And whatever is done or said returns at last to me. Through me the afflatus surging and surging, through me the current and index.

I speak the pass-word primeval, I give the sign of democracy, By God! I will accept nothing which all cannot have their counterpart of on the same terms.

I do not press my fingers across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death is. I believe in the flesh and the appetites, Seeing, hearing, feeling, are miracles, and each part and tag of me is a miracle.

If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my own body, or any part of it, Translucent mould of me it shall be you! Shaded ledges and rests it shall be you! Firm masculine colter it shall be you! Whatever goes to the tilth of me it shall be you! You my rich blood! Breast that presses against other breasts it shall be you!

My brain it shall be your occult convolutions! Trickling sap of maple, fibre of manly wheat, it shall be you! Sun so generous it shall be you! Vapors lighting and shading my face it shall be you! You sweaty brooks and dews it shall be you! Winds whose soft-tickling genitals rub against me it shall be you! Broad muscular fields, branches of live oak, loving lounger in my winding paths, it shall be you! I dote on myself, there is that lot of me and all so luscious, Each moment and whatever happens thrills me with joy, I cannot tell how my ankles bend, nor whence the cause of my faintest wish, Nor the cause of the friendship I emit, nor the cause of the friendship I take again.

That I walk up my stoop, I pause to consider if it really be, A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books. To behold the day-break! The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows, The air tastes good to my palate. Hefts of the moving world at innocent gambols silently rising freshly exuding, Scooting obliquely high and low. Something I cannot see puts upward libidinous prongs, Seas of bright juice suffuse heaven.

We also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun, We found our own O my soul in the calm and cool of the daybreak. My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, With the twirl of my tongue I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds. Come now I will not be tantalized, you conceive too much of articulation, Do you not know O speech how the buds beneath you are folded? Waiting in gloom, protected by frost, The dirt receding before my prophetical screams, I underlying causes to balance them at last, My knowledge my live parts, it keeping tally with the meaning of all things, Happiness, which whoever hears me let him or her set out in search of this day.

My final merit I refuse you, I refuse putting from me what I really am, Encompass worlds, but never try to encompass me, I crowd your sleekest and best by simply looking toward you.

Writing and talk do not prove me, I carry the plenum of proof and every thing else in my face, With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic. I hear the chorus, it is a grand opera, Ah this indeed is music--this suits me. A tenor large and fresh as the creation fills me, The orbic flex of his mouth is pouring and filling me full.

Mine is no callous shell, I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop, They seize every object and lead it harmlessly through me. The sentries desert every other part of me, They have left me helpless to a red marauder, They all come to the headland to witness and assist against me. I am given up by traitors, I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor, I went myself first to the headland, my own hands carried me there.

Did it make you ache so, leaving me? Sprouts take and accumulate, stand by the curb prolific and vital, Landscapes projected masculine, full-sized and golden. Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my soul. Only what proves itself to every man and woman is so, Only what nobody denies is so.

A minute and a drop of me settle my brain, I believe the soggy clods shall become lovers and lamps, And a compend of compends is the meat of a man or woman, And a summit and flower there is the feeling they have for each other, And they are to branch boundlessly out of that lesson until it becomes omnific, And until one and all shall delight us, and we them.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago, Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

So they show their relations to me and I accept them, They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession. I wonder where they get those tokens, Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them? Myself moving forward then and now and forever, Gathering and showing more always and with velocity, Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them, Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers, Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.

A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses, Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears, Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground, Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.

His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him, His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return. I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion, Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them? Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you. My ties and ballasts leave me, my elbows rest in sea-gaps, I skirt sierras, my palms cover continents, I am afoot with my vision. I fly those flights of a fluid and swallowing soul, My course runs below the soundings of plummets.

I help myself to material and immaterial, No guard can shut me off, no law prevent me. I anchor my ship for a little while only, My messengers continually cruise away or bring their returns to me. I go hunting polar furs and the seal, leaping chasms with a pike-pointed staff, clinging to topples of brittle and blue.

I am a free companion, I bivouac by invading watchfires, I turn the bridgroom out of bed and stay with the bride myself, I tighten her all night to my thighs and lips. Agonies are one of my changes of garments, I do not ask the wounded person how he feels, I myself become the wounded person, My hurts turn livid upon me as I lean on a cane and observe.

I lie in the night air in my red shirt, the pervading hush is for my sake, Painless after all I lie exhausted but not so unhappy, White and beautiful are the faces around me, the heads are bared of their fire-caps, The kneeling crowd fades with the light of the torches. Distant and dead resuscitate, They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the clock myself.

Again the long roll of the drummers, Again the attacking cannon, mortars, Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive. Again gurgles the mouth of my dying general, he furiously waves with his hand, He gasps through the clot Mind not me--mind--the entrenchments. They were the glory of the race of rangers, Matchless with horse, rifle, song, supper, courtship, Large, turbulent, generous, handsome, proud, and affectionate, Bearded, sunburnt, drest in the free costume of hunters, Not a single one over thirty years of age.

Would you learn who won by the light of the moon and stars? The transit to and from the magazine is now stopt by the sentinels, They see so many strange faces they do not know whom to trust. Our frigate takes fire, The other asks if we demand quarter? If our colors are struck and the fighting done? Now I laugh content, for I hear the voice of my little captain, We have not struck, he composedly cries, we have just begun our part of the fighting.

The tops alone second the fire of this little battery, especially the main-top, They hold out bravely during the whole of the action. One of the pumps has been shot away, it is generally thought we are sinking. Our experts create writing masterpieces that earn our customers not only high grades but also a solid reputation from demanding professors.

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