Chapter 34 The second book of immaculate knowledge

When the moon came out last night, it was so heavy and full on the horizon: it seemed to me that it wanted to give birth to a sun. But it lies with its pregnancy; yet I trust the man of the moon rather than the woman. True, the timid night-stalker was not very manly either.Really, he went through the roof with a bad intention. Because the monk in this month is full of greed and jealousy; he is greedy for all the happiness of the earth and his lover. No, I don't love it, the cat under the roof!I loathe peepers out of half-open windows! It walks piously and silently on the carpet of stars:—but I loathe those who walk quietly without making their harnesses rattle.

The steps of the honest man must have a sound; but the cat walks with fleeing steps.Look, the moon is advancing dishonestly like a cat. —— Sensitive hypocrites, "seeking the pure knower", I give you this simile.I call you Carnal Ones! You also love the earth and all of it: I guessed you! ——However, there is shame and bad intentions in your love. —You are like the moon. You have been persuaded: your spirits are made to despise all that is earth, but your guts have not been persuaded: yet this guts are the strongest in you! ... And this is what I call the immaculate knowledge of things: of things, there is no hope but to be able to lie beside them like a hundred-eyed mirror!

O sensitive hypocrite, O carnal one!There is no innocence in your hopes: so you slander hopes! Verily, you love the earth less than the Creator and Breeder who delights in creating! Where is the innocence?Innocence is where there is the will to procreate.Whoever wants to create something higher than himself, I think he has the purest will. Where is the beauty?Beauty is where I must "will" with my whole will; where I will love and die to make the image more than an image. Love and death have been in pairs since ancient times.The will to love: that is readiness to die.Cowards, thus I say unto you!

But you think your slanting and feeble eyes are "meditating"!And everything that the eyes of the cowardly can touch is "beauty"!Ah, you defile the noble name! O unsullied ones, O pure-knowledgeable ones, your curse is your barrenness: though you lie heavy and full on the horizon! Verily, ye mouths are full of noble language; and ye wish us to believe: Your hearts overflow.Wanderer! But my language is rough and unworthy and shapeless: I like to pick up the food that falls under the table of your feast. This is enough for me to tell the truth to hypocrites!Verily, my fishbones, shells, and holly-leaves should tickle your noses, hypocrites!

Around you and your feasts the air is foul: for your lusts, lies and mysteries are in the air! Dare to believe in yourself first—yourselves and your guts!Those who are not confident are always liars. "Pure ones," you put before yourselves a mask of God; Your terrible serpent crawls behind a god's mask. Verily, you meditators, how deceitful you are!Zarathustra is also blinded by your holy skin; he did not guess what serpents filled it. Seekers of pure knowledge, I seem to have seen a God's soul in your games!I never knew a better art than your forgery! The distance between us concealed from me the filth and stench of the snake, the sensual wiles of a four-legged snake that crawled there.

But I approached you: then the day came for me—and now it comes for you too—and the love of the moon will end! Just look there!It was white with astonishment before dawn! For the red sun has come—and its love for the earth has come! The whole love of the Sun is innocence, a creative desire! Look there, the dawn comes impatiently to the sea!Do you not feel the thirst and panting of its love? It wants to drink the sea, and lifts it from its depths to its height: at the same time, the sea's longing offers countless udders. For the sea wants to be kissed by the thirst of the sun; it wants to be air, height, access to light, even light!

Really, I, like the sun, love life and all deep seas. And I call this knowledge: everything deep is to be mentioned - my height! —— Thus spake Zarathustra.