long as we count backwards in a historiographically comparative way. We will only find the inception when we think ahead in a manner that experiences history.
If we consider this, then surely the information we have requested of Aristotle regarding the meaning of the participle carries less weight. Indeed, it becomes questionable if we may continue, without sufficient consideration, to take the δῦνον of Heraclitus's in the sense of Aristotle's ὄν. We could easily eliminate this concern by saying that δῦνον, in comparison with the ὄν, is something singular—i.e., that the submerging or, on the other hand, the never-submerging, is only a type of being: the δῦνον thus belongs, as does emerging and any process whatsoever, ‘under’ the general concept of the ὄν. Moreover, if the never-submerging ‘is’ something at all, and if the submerging ‘happens,’ a being and a being [ein Seiendes und ein Sein] are present here.
Therefore, what applies to the ὄν as the most universal also applies to the specific case of the δῦνον. The possibility, and perhaps even the necessity, of construing Heraclitus's δῦνον in the sense of the Aristotelian ὄν thus rightly persists.
Yet, there is a matter that still remains undecided, for, indeed, it has not even been asked yet: namely, whether the δῦνον, or more precisely the μὴ δῦνόν ποτε, is only a singular appearance and occurrence within the ὄν (i.e., within what is ), or whether the relation of the μὴ δῦνόν ποτε to the ὄν must be thought altogether differently and in a way for which we find no model in common ways of thinking.
[81] Through the preceding lecture we have decided, almost in one fell swoop, to think the δῦνον ‘verbally,’ thereby hearing the saying in such a way that therein the word of the never-submerging has become audible. Initially, this emphasis on the verbal meaning only has the purpose of allowing the thoughtful gaze to align itself to the viewpoint within which the thinking of the thinkers moves when they name ‘the being.’ In this sense, the ‘never-submerging’ would be a process— something that is, after all—and that therefore still belongs to the category of being. In any case, this relationship between the never-submerging and being must be illuminated, if indeed the thinkers think the being of beings, and Heraclitus, as a thinker, thinks the never-submerging.
The question that remains can hence be captured in the following formulaic way: is the never-submerging only one manner of being among others, or does the concealed essence of ‘being’ perhaps altogether rest in the never-submerging? If the latter is the case, whereto are we being led—or thrown—by the saying of