For, suddenly, I saw you there / And through foggy London town / The sun was shining upside down!

In this connection, a student of mine once described Catullus as like a lucid drunk: drunk just enough to tell it like it is but semisweetly, maybe bitterly, indeed a bit salty.

Sound is produced between the string and the air by the return or the result of the string.

[…]the people are worn down with taxes, and hardly anything short of an invasion could rouse them again to war.