Thus Spake Zarathustra — Friedrich Nietzsche

Thus Spake Zarathustra

Friedrich Nietzsche · Licencia: Public domain · Fuente

• Ah, my brethren! One knoweth a little too much about every one! And many a one becometh transparent to us, but still we can by no means penetrate him. ¶1111
• It is difficult to live among men because silence is so difficult. ¶1112
• And not to him who is offensive to us are we most unfair, but to him who doth not concern us at all. ¶1113
• If, however, thou hast a suffering friend, then be a resting-place for his suffering; like a hard bed, however, a camp-bed: thus wilt thou serve him best. ¶1114
• And if a friend doeth thee wrong, then say: "I forgive thee what thou hast done unto me; that thou hast done it unto THYSELF, however--how could I forgive that!" ¶1115
• Thus speaketh all great love: it surpasseth even forgiveness and pity. ¶1116
• One should hold fast one's heart; for when one letteth it go, how quickly doth one's head run away! ¶1117
• Ah, where in the world have there been greater follies than with the pitiful? And what in the world hath caused more suffering than the follies of the pitiful? ¶1118
• Woe unto all loving ones who have not an elevation which is above their pity! ¶1119
• Thus spake the devil unto me, once on a time: "Even God hath his hell: it is his love for man." ¶1120
• And lately, did I hear him say these words: "God is dead: of his pity for man hath God died."-- ¶1121
• So be ye warned against pity: FROM THENCE there yet cometh unto men a heavy cloud! Verily, I understand weather-signs! ¶1122
• But attend also to this word: All great love is above all its pity: for it seeketh--to create what is loved! ¶1123
• "Myself do I offer unto my love, AND MY NEIGHBOUR AS MYSELF"--such is the language of all creators. ¶1124
• All creators, however, are hard.-- ¶1125
• And one day Zarathustra made a sign to his disciples, and spake these words unto them: ¶1128
• "Here are priests: but although they are mine enemies, pass them quietly and with sleeping swords! ¶1129
• Even among them there are heroes; many of them have suffered too much--: so they want to make others suffer. ¶1130
• Bad enemies are they: nothing is more revengeful than their meekness. And readily doth he soil himself who toucheth them. ¶1131
• But my blood is related to theirs; and I want withal to see my blood honoured in theirs."-- ¶1132
• And when they had passed, a pain attacked Zarathustra; but not long had he struggled with the pain, when he began to speak thus: ¶1133
• It moveth my heart for those priests. They also go against my taste; but that is the smallest matter unto me, since I am among men. ¶1134
• But I suffer and have suffered with them: prisoners are they unto me, and stigmatised ones. He whom they call Saviour put them in fetters:-- ¶1135
• In fetters of false values and fatuous words! Oh, that some one would save them from their Saviour! ¶1136
• On an isle they once thought they had landed, when the sea tossed them about; but behold, it was a slumbering monster! ¶1137
• False values and fatuous words: these are the worst monsters for mortals--long slumbereth and waiteth the fate that is in them. ¶1138
• But at last it cometh and awaketh and devoureth and engulfeth whatever hath built tabernacles upon it. ¶1139
• Oh, just look at those tabernacles which those priests have built themselves! Churches, they call their sweet-smelling caves! ¶1140
• Oh, that falsified light, that mustified air! Where the soul--may not fly aloft to its height! ¶1141
• But so enjoineth their belief: "On your knees, up the stair, ye sinners!" ¶1142
• Verily, rather would I see a shameless one than the distorted eyes of their shame and devotion! ¶1143
• Who created for themselves such caves and penitence-stairs? Was it not those who sought to conceal themselves, and were ashamed under the clear sky? ¶1144
• And only when the clear sky looketh again through ruined roofs, and down upon grass and red poppies on ruined walls--will I again turn my heart to the seats of this God. ¶1145
• They called God that which opposed and afflicted them: and verily, there was much hero-spirit in their worship! ¶1146
• And they knew not how to love their God otherwise than by nailing men to the cross! ¶1147
• As corpses they thought to live; in black draped they their corpses; even in their talk do I still feel the evil flavour of charnel-houses. ¶1148
• And he who liveth nigh unto them liveth nigh unto black pools, wherein the toad singeth his song with sweet gravity. ¶1149
• Better songs would they have to sing, for me to believe in their Saviour: more like saved ones would his disciples have to appear unto me! ¶1150
• Naked, would I like to see them: for beauty alone should preach penitence. But whom would that disguised affliction convince! ¶1151
• Verily, their Saviours themselves came not from freedom and freedom's seventh heaven! Verily, they themselves never trod the carpets of knowledge! ¶1152

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