Chapter 38 The second divination

"—I see a boundless sorrow descend upon the world. The best men are weary of their work. A doctrine prevails, and a belief accompanies it: 'All is empty, all is the same, all is lost! ' Every hill responds: 'All is empty, all is the same, all is lost! ' Yes, we have harvested: but why have our fruit rotted and turned brown?Did something fall in the evil moon last night? Our work is vanity, our wine is poison, our fields and our hearts are yellowed by evil-spreaders. We are all withered; and if the fire should fall on us, we would be dust like ashes:—yes, we also have weary the fire.

All springs are dried up for us, and the sea has receded.The whole earth will split open, but the valley will not swallow us up! 'Ugh!Where is the sea in which we can sink ourselves? ' Said our complaint.And this complaint is only recalled on the flat and shallow mud. Really, we don't bother to die; now we're awake and living, in the dead. "— Thus Zarathustra heard a soothsayer; and the prophecy went straight to his heart and changed him.He wanders sadly and wearily; he becomes one of those whom the soothsayer speaks of. "Indeed," he said to his disciples, "the long twilight will soon descend upon the world. Alas, how shall I rescue my light through the long twilight!

How can I keep it from suffocating in sorrow!It has to be the light of distant worlds and nights! " So Zarathustra wandered about because he was here; for three days he neither ate nor drank; he neither rested nor spoke.Finally, he fell asleep.But his sons sat beside him, watching all night, anxiously waiting for him to come to his senses, to speak again, and to be healed of his pain. This was what Zarathustra preached to his disciples when he awoke; but it seemed to them that his voice came from afar. "Friends, listen to my dream, and help me to guess its meaning! The dream is still a mystery to me; its meaning is shut up in it, not yet able to fly over it with free wings.

I dreamed that I had thrown away my whole life.On the lonely hill of Death's Castle, I became the night watchman and grave watcher. There I guard Death's coffin: the dark passages are filled with its triumphant trophies.Disappeared life looking at me through the glass coffin. I breathe the dusty breath of eternity: my dusty soul is weighed down. Who can lighten his soul here! The light of midnight surrounds me; solitude sits beside it too; and thirdly there is the silence of death, gasping staccato, my worst friend. I carry the key, the rustiest of all keys; I know how to open the most hateful door.

When the two doors were left open, its voice, like the hoarse frog croaking, filled the long corridor: the night bird croaked sullenly, unwilling to be awakened. But when all is silent and I sit alone in this hostile silence, the reappearing solitude is more terrifying and makes my heart miserable. In this way, time creeps slowly, if there is still so-called time: how can I know!But something that woke me up finally happened. The door was knocked three times, like thunder, and the passage answered three times: so I went to the door. scare!I cried, Who has come up the hill with his ashes?scare!scare!Who came up the mountain with his ashes?

I turned the key, I pushed the door, I pushed hard and failed.But the door never opened. At that time, a big storm threw open the two door leaves: it whistled sharply, blew wildly, and threw me a black coffin: In the whistling, in the noise, the black coffin shattered itself, and spit out thousands of laughs. Hundreds of ugly faces of children, angels, owls, madmen, and butterflies as big as children laughed and cursed at me. I was terrified: I was thrown to the ground.I gasped, I've never gasped like that. But my own cry awakened me: --I regained consciousness. "— Zarathustra was silent when he had finished speaking of his dream: for he did not yet know how it should be interpreted.But at once his favorite pupil stood up, shook Zarathustra's hand, and said:

"O Zarathustra, your own life explains this dream to us. Aren't you yourself the gust of wind, rushing open the door of death? Aren't you yourself that black coffin, full of multicolored evil and the ugly face of the angel of life? Verily, Zarathustra, like the laughter of a thousand children, goes to every dead chamber, and laughs at all night-watchers, grave-keepers, and tinkling-key-keepers. Thou hast frightened them with thy laughter and brought them down; swoons and slumbers prove thy power over them. Even if the long twilight and deadly weariness come, you will not disappear from our skies, you life-affirmer!

Thou hast made us see new stars and new lights of the night; verily thou hast hung thy smile over our heads like a curtain of many colors. Now shall the child's laugh For ever from the coffin; Now shall a gale come And overcome that fatal weariness: thou art its guarantor and soothsayer! Verily, you dreamed of them, your enemies: this is your most painful dream. But since you woke up from them and regained consciousness, they will wake up of their own accord - and come to you! "— Thus spoke the disciple; and the rest of the disciples circled closely around Zarathustra, holding his hand and trying to persuade him to leave his bed and his sorrows, and live normally with them.But Zarathustra sat up on the bed with a strange look.Like a man returning from a long absence, he gazed at his disciples, examining their faces; he could not yet recognize them.It was not until they lifted him up that his eyes suddenly changed; he understood what had just happened, and stroking his long beard, he said in a loud voice:

"Well, it will all come in time; my friends, take care to prepare us a quick and good meal! I want to redeem my nightmare thus! But the soothsayer shall drink and eat with me: verily, I will show him a sea that sinks itself! " Thus spake Zarathustra.Then he looked for a long time at the face of the disciple who interpreted the dream, and shook his head. ——