says that only a tiny, insignificant place belongs to the sun as a source of light with its own brightness, so that the opening power of Ἥλιος in the opened light space itself appears to be only a negligible affair. What opens veils itself in a certain manner in what is opened by it, and takes a position below the things encircled by it as the light power. To the extent that the sun appears in the firmament in the width of a human foot, ascends, sinks and disappears, she is new on each day, as Fr. 6 says: νέος ἐφ᾽ ἡμέρῃ ἐστίν. Heraclitus gives no scientific stipulation that each day the sun arises new. The newness of the sun on each day does not contradict the fact that she is the same sun each day. She is the same, but always new. We must hold on to this thought for the question concerning the sun as a form of πῦρ ἀείζωον, which perpetually is, but—as Fr. 30 says—is kindled and quenched according to measures, wherein the constant newness itself comes to expression. When we come to Fr. 30 the concept of μέτρα will allow itself to be determined more precisely.

From Fr. 6 we turn to Fr. 57: διδάσκαλος δὲ πλείστων Ἡσίοδος· τοῦτον ἐπὶστανται πλεῖστα εἰδέναι, ὅστις ἡμέρην καὶ εὐφρόνην οὐκ ἐγίνωσκεν· ἔστι γὰρ ἕν. Diels' translation runs, '"Hesiod is teacher of the many. They are persuaded by him that he knows most; he, who does not know day and night. Yet, one is!" In what does the supposed wisdom of Hesiod consist? To what extent has he, who has written about days and works, not known day and night? Day and night are alternating conditions of the sun's land in which it is bright and dark in rhythmic alteration. The darkness of night in the domain of the sun is something other than the closedness of the soil into which no light is able to penetrate. The dark night is illuminated by the glimmering stars. In contrast to the closedness of the earth, the dark of night has by itself fundamental illuminability. Together with the sun fragments we must think the fragments which treat of day and night. Fr. 57 belongs to these. The most difficult phrase in it is ἔστι γὰρ ἕν [Yet, one is]. If day and night are to be one, then wouldn't the plural εἰσί [are] have to stand in place of the singular ἔστι [is]? Is the indistinguishability of day and night meant here, or else something completely different which does not show itself at first glance. Our question is: does Fr. 57. spoken out of ἕν, contain a statement concerning day and night? Are day and night in ἕν, or are they ἕν? Hesiod has evidently understood most of day and night, and yet he is reproved by Heraclitus because he held day and night to he of different kinds. In Hesiod's Theogony the contrast of day and night means something other than merely the contrast of two conditions of transparent space in which light can be present or absent.

Perhaps it is too daring if we think in this connection about the strife of the Olympian gods with the Titans. Here a deft runs through the entirety that draws together for Heraclitus, if not in the evident, then in the unseen harmony. One can read the ἔστι γὰρ ἕν in this sense. Day and