Chapter 30 Song of the Second Tomb

"There is the island of tombs, the place of silence; there is also the tomb of my youth, and there I will take a circle of life made of evergreen flower rope." I made up my mind, and I sailed across the sea. —— O you, images and visions of my youth!O you eye waves of love, you divine moments!How quickly you are gone!I think of you now as my dear dead. My dearest dead, from you comes a fragrance that soothes the soul and stirs the fountain of tears.Verily, it makes the lonely voyager shudder and delight. I am still the richest, the most envied,--I am the loneliest!For I possessed you, and you possess me: tell me, did the golden apples from this tree ever fall for another as for me?

I am also your legacy and heir of love.O my dearest, in your memory I send forth a burst of multicolored wild morality! O rare and blessed wonders, we were born to be together; you approached me and my longing, not like timid birds, - but like trusting men approaching trusting men ! Yes, like me, you too are made of faithfulness and eternity of love.Shall I now call you another name for your unfaithfulness?Holy glances and instants: I haven't learned any other names yet. Verily, Vanishers, you perish too quickly!But you have not evaded me, nor have I evaded you: we are innocent of our unfaithfulness to one another.

Birds of my hope, they hanged you for killing me!Yes, evil always shoots arrows at you, my dearest, - to pierce my heart! And it's already in!For you are ever my dearest, my possessions and possessors: therefore you must die young and hasty! They have shot their arrows where I am most vulnerable, at you who are delicate and fleetingly smiling! But I say to my enemies: homicide is nothing compared to what you have done to me! You have done me more evil than a murder; you have taken from me what is irreparable:—thus I say unto you. Murderous singer, tool of evil, the most innocent you!I'm ready for a best dance, and your tones are killing my frenzy!

Only dancing can make me say the symbol of the noblest thing:—but now, the highest symbol is not spoken by my limbs! My highest hope, finally unrevealed!All phantoms and all consolations of my youth are dead! How did I bear all this?How did I bear and overcome these traumas?How did my soul come out of those tombs again? Yes, I have one thing that is invulnerable, one that cannot be buried that splits the rock: this is my will.It passed silently and unchanged through the ages. My old will, it strides on my legs; its nature is merciless and invulnerable. Only on the heel, I have the possibility of injury.You, my patient will, you exist forever and ever!You have found your way out of all graves!

You still have my unrealized youth in you; full of hope like life and youth, you sit on the yellow ruined mound of the tomb. Yea, thou art ever the destroyer of all my graves: my will, I salute thee!Only where the tomb is there is the resurrection. Thus spake Zarathustra.