as the empty frame of the progression of occurrences one after the other. Everywhere, not only in physics, time is the "parameter," i.e., the coordinates along which runs (παρά) all measurement (μέτρον) and calculation. Man uses and consumes time like a "factor." As a consequence of this disposition, which consumes and uses up, man constantly has less and less time in spite of all his time-saving, and that is why the saving and economy of time are necessary in even the tiniest procedures of technology. Modern man, the subject to whom the "world" has become a uniquely uniform "object," consumes even time. Modern man therefore always "has" less and less time, because he has taken possession of time in advance only as calculable and has made time something of which he is obsessed, though he is presumably the ruler whose rule masters time. For primordial Greek thinking, on the contrary, time, always as dispensing and dispensed time, takes man and all beings essentially into its ordering and in every case orders the appearance and disappearance of beings. Time discloses and conceals.
Thus time can κρύπτεσθαι, hide back into itself, only what has appeared: φανέντα. Beings, coming into presence and becoming concealed in absence by the "sweep" of time, are understood here in terms of appearance. What appears, however, is what it is only insofar as it comes forth and emerges. Something must therefore be present letting the appearance emerge. Φύσις, φύειν (see above λήθη—myth) is said of the earth, ή γῆ φύει—the earth lets come forth We often. and even correctly, translate φύειν as "growing," but in doing so we must not forget to think this "becoming" and "growing" in the Greek manner as a coming forth, out of concealedness, of the germ and the root from the darkness of the earth into the light of the day Even now we still say, though to be sure only as a figure of speech. time will bring it out into the light of day; everything needs (in order to come forth) its time. The φύειν of φύσις, the letting come forth and the emergence, lets what emerges appear in the unconcealed.
Admittedly, Sophocles does not use the word ἀλήθεια—unconcealedness—in his dictum about time, the time that hides (κρύπτεσθαι) and lets come forth (φύει). Nor does he say that time lets the concealed come forth, φύει τὰ λαθόντα, but instead he says φύει τὰ ἄδηλα—time lets come forth into appearance that which is determined to appear but is not yet δῆλον: ἄ-δηλον, the un-open. Corresponding to the un-open, as the concealed, is the un-concealed. the openly revealed, i.e., what came forth into the open and appeared in the open. The open dwells in unconcealedness. The open is that closest that we co-intend in the essence of unconcealedness, though without explicitly heeding it or genuinely considering it, let alone grasping its essence in advance so that the presence of this open could order and guide all our experience of beings We already know the unconcealed and the disclosing