Chapter 46 Thus Spoke Zarathustra Book VII

thus spoke Zarathustra volume seven old list and new list one I sit here expecting, amidst the broken old list and the half-written new one.When will my hour come? The moment of my descent, the moment of my destruction: I would like to go to man again. I look forward to that hour now: at first the sign of my hour must come—a lion that laughs with the flock of doves. At the same time I talk to myself like a man at ease.Nobody told me anything new, so I told myself about myself. two When I go to the people, I see that they sit upon ancient pride, thinking that they have long known what is good and evil in human beings.

All talk of morality seems to them an old and trite thing; and he who would sleep well talks of good and evil before going to bed. I disturbed this slumber, when I taught that no one knows what is good and evil:— Creator removed! But the Creator is the one who created man's purpose and gave the earth its meaning and its future: he alone established good and evil. I bid them tear down their pulpits, where all ancient pride sits; I bid them laugh at their great moralists, their sages, their poets, their saviours. I bid them laugh at their gloomy sages, those who sit like black phantoms, and take them from the tree of life.

I sat on the graves of their great ones, even beside dead bodies and vultures--I laughed at all their past, and all their rotting and crumbling glory. Verily, like a penitent preacher, like a fool, I rage and destroy all their greatness and their littleness!So small is their best good, and so small is their worst evil!So I laughed. Therefore, my "wisdom desire" born on the top of the mountain laughed and roared.Really, a rough wit—a longing with a dashing health. She often takes me soaring upwards, in the center of laughter!And so I soar, like an arrow drunk with the joy of the sun!

I fly to a future undreamed of, to a hotter south than the artist can imagine; where the gods dance naked, and are ashamed of all their raiment. (If I am like a poet in metaphors and lingoes: indeed, I am ashamed that I still cannot not be a poet!) There, it seems to me that all becoming is like the dance of the gods, the play of the gods, the world is free and unlimited, and everything is returned to its original state. There, it seems to be a kind of eternal self-liberation and self-returning of countless gods; it seems to be a blessed self-conflict of countless gods, self-reconciliation, and self-reconstruction.

Where, to me, all time seems to be the blessed mockery of the moment; where freedom is necessity, happily mocking its poisonous sting. —— There I also found my ancient devil and great enemy, the genie of gravity, and his creations: compulsion and commandment, necessity and consequence, purpose and will, good and evil. Is it not necessary there that the dancer can dance above it, beyond it?Are there not necessary moles and clumsy dwarves for the sake of lightness and beauty? three I also picked up the word superman from the avenue there, and I also saw that man is something that must be surpassed.

See also that man is a bridge and not a goal, and he that rejoices in his noon and his evening sees it as a progress far into a new dawn— Rejoice in the way of Zarathustra in the great noon, rejoice in my teachings that hang above people like the purple evening glow. Verily, I also made them see new stars in new nights; over day and night and cloud-shades I opened my laughter like a canopy of many colors. I teach them with all my dreams and aspirations: to unite the fragments of the human heart, and mysteries, and terrible chances: Like, a poet, a solver of riddles, a rescuer of chance, I teach them to create the future, and in this creation I teach them to rescue the past.Relief of man's past, changed all "as it was" until the will said:

"But I want it to be! I will want it to be!" I call this relief: I teach them just call it relief. Now I look forward to my relief - that I can go to people one last time. I would go to the people again: I would sink and perish among them; I would give them my richest gifts! I have learned this from the sinking sun, O sun that is abundant and vast!When it sank, it poured golden light into the sea from its own endless storage!So the poorest fisherman is now shaking the golden oar: I saw this before, and I couldn't help crying with love. Zarathustra will go down like the sun: here he now sits waiting, among the broken old list and the half-written new one.

Four Behold, here is a new list!But where are my brethren who carry it with me into the canyons, into the hearts of men? My great love for distant people thus demands: "Do not appease your neighbors! Man is a thing to be surpassed." So you see: there are so many different ways and ways of transcendence!But only a buffoon knows: people can be jumped over too! Even surpass yourself among your neighbors: you who have power to take have not endured to give, such is your power! What you do to people no one can do to you.Behold, there is no pay here! He who cannot command himself should not obey.Many people can command themselves, but are still far from obeying themselves.

Fives This is what the race of noble souls wishes: they want nothing for nothing, at least life. It is only the rascal who desires life in vain: in us life is self-sufficient, and we always think of what is the highest reward we can give! Indeed, that is a noble maxim: "What life expects, we would like to keep in life!" I should not wish for pleasure where it does not contribute to happiness!Enjoy yourself without wishing! Therefore it is extremely shameful to seek pleasure and innocence.Neither wants to be sought. I should have them - but I would rather seek sin and pain! six

O my brothers, the firstborn is always sacrificed.Now we are the firstborn sons! We all bleed on invisible altars; we are all roasted to ancient idols. Our best are still young: this draws the index finger of the old.Our flesh is tender, our skins are but lambs' skins: how could we not attract the covetousness of the ancient idolaters! The old idolater, who still dwells in our own hearts, roasts our best for his feast.Alas, my brothers, how can the firstborn not be sacrificed! But so will our peers; and I love those who do not wish to preserve themselves, and I love with all my heart those who descend and perish: for they go beyond.

seven Be real - few can be real!Those who can be real still don't want to be real!But at least good people can be real. O good people!Good people never tell the truth.Because it is a kind of disease in the heart to practice goodness in this way. Those who are good, they yield, they yield themselves; their hearts repeat what has been said, and their deep soul obeys: but he who obeys, does not listen to himself! All the evils that the good call must come together to produce one truth.O my brothers, are you wicked enough to produce this truth? Courageous adventures, long doubts, cruel denials, disgust, quick decisions, all these did not come together!But truth springs from such a seed! All knowledge grows by the side of a bad conscience!O you seekers of knowledge, smash, smash this old list! Eight When stakes are nailed to the surface of the water, and floating bridges are built on the giant current, at this time, really, no one will believe anyone who says "everything is flowing". Even fools are against him. "What?" said the fool, "does everything flow? The pile and the pontoon are quietly on the giant current! " "Above the mighty current all things are fixed, all evaluations of things, pontoons, concepts, all good and evil: these are fixed!"— When winter came and the great current froze, even the wisest of men doubted.Now it is not only fools who say: "Doesn't everything stop silently?" "All things stand still at all"--that is a valid winter doctrine, a goodness in unproductive times, an excellent solace for the sleeper and the idler by the fire. "Wanmu stopped quietly at all" - but the spring breeze that comes from itself opposes this teaching. The spring breeze is a bull who knows no plow—a ferocious bull, a destroyer, who breaks the ice with his furious horns!The ice broke through the pontoon again! Oh!Look now, my brothers, isn't everything in motion?Didn't all the fences fall into the water?Who still insists on "good" and "evil"? "Alas for us! Happy for us! The spring breeze blows!" O my brothers, so preach through all the streets and alleys! Nine There is an old delusion -- that is called good and evil.From time immemorial this orbit of delusion has revolved around seers and astrologers. People of old believed in seers and astrologers; hence people believed in "All things are predestined: you shall, because you must!" Afterwards men doubted all seers and astrologers; therefore they believed, "All things are free: you can, because you will!" O my brother, since there is only delusion and not knowledge about destiny and the future; therefore there is only delusion and not knowledge about good and evil! ten "Thou shalt not steal! Thou shalt not kill!" Formerly such a commandment was called holy: before it man bowed his knees and bowed his head, and took off his shoes. But I say to you: Is there no more robber and murderer in this world than this holy commandment? Are there no robbers and slayers in all life?Call such commandments holy, and therefore do they not also—kill the truth? Is not that which is called holy which opposes and discourages life a teaching of death?O my brothers, smash for me, smash the old chart! eleven This is my sympathy for the past, which I see abandoned,— Abandoned to the pity, the spirit, the presumptuousness of each new age; the new age makes all that exists its bridge. A great master will arise, a cunning monster, who turns and twists all the past with mercy and hostility; till it becomes to him a bridge, a herald, and herald, and morning of the rooster Ming. But there are also other dangers and other sympathies: every rascal has a memory that goes back to his ancestors, but time has cut off his ancestors. The past is thus abandoned: for one day the rascal shall be the master, and sink all his time in the shallows. O my brethren, for there is always a new nobility lacking.That nobility shall oppose all rascals and all tyrants, and recast the word "noble" on the new list. There must be a new nobility that many nobles, many kinds of nobility lack; or as I said before in parables: "That is divinity; There are gods but no God! " twelve O my brothers, I consecrate you and show you a new nobility: Be ye the creators, breeders, and sowers of the future:— Verily, you cannot buy noble with money like a merchant; what has a selling price is worthless. For your glory is not whence you came, but where you are going; let this be your new glory,--your will and the will of your feet surpass you! Verily, it is not that you serve a prince,--what are princes now! ——It is not that you are the prince's screen fan to strengthen his position. Nor did your species become polite in the court, nor did you all learn to be ornately decorated, like silver red-crowned cranes, standing for a long time in the shallow marshes! (For to be able to stand is a special grace among courtiers in general; as for being allowed to sit down, it is their posthumous happiness!) Nor is it a Holy Spirit called Holy that led your ancestors to Heaven which I do not praise! (For where there is the evil tree—the cross—there is nothing to praise.) Indeed, no matter where he is, the Holy Spirit always guides his warriors—the goat and the goose—as if he is in battle.The superstitious and the delusional are always at the forefront! O my brethren, your nobility is not to look back, but to look forward!You should be banished from all the lands of your parents, and the lands of your ancestors! Love ye the land of your children: -- the land unexplored on the farthest seas!Let this love be your new nobility!I command you to sail forward there! For your children, you should correct that you are the children of your ancestors.You should have saved all the past in this way!I hang this new list above you! Thirteen "Why do people live? Everything is vanity! To live—that is to whip dry grass; to live—that is to burn oneself without being warmed."— Such ancient fables are still handed down as "wisdom"; and because it is old and musty, it is the more respected.Mildew becomes noble. Children will say: they are afraid of fire because it burns them!In the ancient book of wisdom, there is a lot of childishness. How dare the one who flogs withered grass forever slander the flogging!Stop the mouth of such fools! Such people sit at the table and bring nothing, not even good hunger:—then they slander: "All is vanity!" But, my brethren, it is no vanity art to eat well!Smash for me, Smash this list of unhappy people! fourteen "To the one who is clean, all things are clean" - say the people.But I say to you, "To a piggy, everything is piggy!" Thus the ghastly fantasists (with their hearts drooping), declare: "The world itself is a filthy monster." Because they are all impure minds; especially those recluses, unless they have seen the world from behind, there will be no peace or rest! I said in front of those people, although the voice was very unpleasant: the world has a backside just like people——this is very real! There's a lot of dirt in the world: it's real here!But the world itself is not thus a filthy monster; but there is much wisdom in that word, that the world stinks much: even the abomination has sprouted wings, and the power of imagination! There are abominations in the best; the best is still a thing to be surpassed! O my brethren, there is much wisdom in that too, that there is much dirt in the world! fifteen I have heard pious recluses repeat to their consciences the maxim that, verily, they are without fault or guilt,--though nothing in the world is worse or more sinful. "Let the world be its own world! Don't blame it!" "Let those who will block, and gouge, and cut, and exploit the people do as they please: don't blame it! Thus they will learn to renounce the world." "For your own reasons—you should have blocked and stifled yourself; for the world's reasons—thus you will learn to renounce the world." O my brethren, break, break the old charts of the pious!Tore up the maxims of these cynics— sixteen Now the people whisper in all dark alleys: "The learned man forgets all strong desires." I think this new list even hangs high above the market: "Wisdom makes people tired, nothing is worth a moment, you should not desire it!" Oh my brothers, smash it for me, smash that new chart for me!The misanthrope and the preacher of death and the jailer hang it aloft; for behold, it is also a motto to slaves! Because they learn badly, instead of learning good things, they learn everything too early and too quickly; they eat badly: so their stomachs are hurt!Their heart is a wounded stomach: it persuades death!Verily, my brothers, the heart is a stomach!Life is a fountain of joy, but to the wounded stomach, the father of sorrow, who speaks in their hearts, all springs are poisonous. Seeking knowledge: For those who have the will of a lion, that is happiness!But the man who is merely desired becomes languid, and all waves tease him. This is always the nature of the weak: lost in the way.Finally their ennui asks: Where shall we go?Everything is the same! They love best when people whisper in their ears: "Nothing has value! You should not desire! "But that's a maxim about slaves. O my brethren, Zarathustra is like a refreshing tempest to all who are weary of the journey: he will make many noses sneeze! My breath of freedom even penetrates through the walls to the prison, to all imprisoned spirits! To liberate people!For to will is to create!I teach like this.The only thing you should learn is to create! The first thing you should learn from me is the learning method, the excellent learning method. —Let him who has ears hear! seventeen The ship anchors here—it's going yonder, or nothing— But who wants to go into this kind of "or"? None of you wants to ride this ship of death!So how can you get weary of the world?Tired of the world!Even you have not withdrawn from the earth!I think you are more greedy for the earth, and love the ennui of your own earth! It is not in vain that you draw your lips down: -- there is still a small earthly desire in it, and in your eyes -- is there not a cloud of unforgettable worldly desires floating? There are many fine inventions on the earth, some useful, some pleasant: for this reason the earth is lovely. There are many such inventions, like a woman's breasts: both useful and happy at the same time. But you world-weary ones, you sloths of the earth!Someone should whip you with a whip!Somebody should whip your legs again. If ye are not crippled and old wretches that the earth despises, then ye are crafty idlers or gluttons, stealthy, night-prowlers.If you will not run with euphoria, then you should perish! Thus taught Zarathustra: Let no one seek to be a physician to the incurable, therefore perish ye! But to make an end requires greater courage than to write a new poem: that's what all doctors and poets know. eighteen O my brethren, there is an example of ennui, and an example of corrupt indolence: though they speak the same, they demand to be heard differently. Look at this withered man here!He was but a hand away from his goal; but he lay down in the dust, weary and obstinate, brave man! He groans with weariness to the road, to the earth, to the object, to himself: he shall go no further, brave man! Now the sun burns above him, and the dogs lick his sweat: but here they lie obstinately, dying of thirst! Just a few feet away from his goal, but willing to die of thirst!Verily, this hero, you must drag him by the hair to his own heaven. But still he let him lie where he lay, and sleep was a soother that could come to him with cold, pattering raindrops. Let him lie down till he himself wakes up--until he himself renounces all ennui, until his ennui has taught him well! My brethren, only pay attention to repelling the dogs around him, the lazy foxes and all the poisonous insects of grace-- All "educated" swarms of poisonous insects, they feast on the blood and sweat of all heroes! nineteen I draw a circle and a holy circle around me; the higher I climb, the fewer people I have with me: I establish eternal and sacred mountains. O my brethren, wherever you ascend with me, take heed, lest a parasite should attach itself to you! A parasite: that is a borer, a crawling and cowering borer that sucks on your hidden wounds and wounds. Such is his cunning: it guesses when the ennui of the ascended soul: in your vexation and disgust, in your sensitive humility, it builds its loathsome nest. Where the strong are weak, and the noble soft—there it builds its hideous nest; where the parasite dwells where the great has its tiny hidden wound. What is the highest of all existence, and what is the lowest of all existence?The parasite is the lowest; but the more noble the more the parasite feeds. For the soul with the longest ladder descends to the deepest: how can he be free from parasites? The richest soul can run and swim forward in itself.The poorest soul throws itself into chance for pleasure! The soul of being devotes itself to existence; the soul of possession seeks to attain desire and longing:— The soul flees from itself, and catches up with itself in a still greater circle; and it is the wisest who are most easily seduced by ignorance. In the heart of the most self-loving soul, all things have their own upstream and downstream, their own bubbles, and their own floods:—oh, how can the tallest soul be free from the worst parasite? twenty O my brothers, am I cruel?But I said: If it has fallen, it should be pushed down! All that is today—fallen and ruined; who will keep it?But I am willing to push it down! Do you know the joy of rolling a stone over a cliff?Just watch, how human beings today are rolling into my own abyss! O my brothers, I am the prelude to a greater player!one example!Follow my example too! He who you do not teach him to soar, I ask you to teach him - to fall faster! twenty one I love the warrior; it is not enough to be a swordsman,--one must know with whom to use the sword! Self-restraint and departure, that is a greater bravery, so people should respect themselves for a more valuable enemy! Let ye have enemies only to be hated, not to be despised: be proud of your enemies.I have taught you thus. O my brothers, honor yourselves for more worthy enemies!You have to get away from many things— Especially from the many rascals who whisper in your ears about people and nations. Wait and see what they call "likes" and "nos"!The more right there, the more wrong.Whoever watches it will be furious. To watch, and to draw a knife—both are the same thing here: so get off to the forest!And sheath your swords. go your way!Let nations and peoples go their way,--dark way indeed, without a gleam of hope! There let the merchants rule, where all that still shines is the gold of the merchants.It is no longer the age of kings: the self-proclaimed people of today do not deserve kings. Look at these peoples, how he is just like the merchants: they pick up a small profit from all kinds of rubbish heaps! They frame each other, deceive each other, they call it "friendship", oh, blessed are the ancient times, when the people themselves said: "I will be the ruler of the nation!" Therefore, O my brothers, the good shall rule, and the best will desire to rule!Where there are teachings different from this, the best are lacking! twenty two If their bread is worth nothing, alas!What are they crying for!Their life support is their well-deserved pastime!Their lives will be difficult. They are carnivores: in their work—there is plunder, in their acquisition—there is deceit!Therefore, their life will be difficult. They should be better carnivores, quicker, more intelligent, more like a man: for man is the best carnivore. Man has plundered the morality of all animals: therefore man has the most difficult life of all animals. Only birds still outperform humans.If man learns to soar, oh, to what heights can his plundering desire fly! twenty-three I wish men and women were like this: the man is fit for war, the woman for procreation; but both are fit to dance with their heads and legs. The days without dancing in between are a loss.All truth that does not bring laughter is hypocrisy! twenty four Pay attention to your marriage contract, don't be a bad marriage contract!You made the contract too hastily: so, then, the marriage break-up! But marriage breaks better than marriage submission and marriage deceit! —Thus a woman said to me: "Indeed, I have broken my marriage, but it was my marriage that broke me in the first place!" I see that resentful couples are the most hated: they cost the whole world to keep everyone from going alone. For that reason I would that righteous people would say to each other: "We love each other: let us take care how to maintain our love! Or is our vow a mistake? Give us a condition and a little marriage and we can see if we can be fit for a great marriage!Matching is always a big deal. " Thus do I exhort all righteous men; if I exhort and say otherwise, what is my love for Superman and all future? O my brothers, drive yourselves not only forward, but drive yourselves upward, so the marriage garden will help you! twenty five Homo sapiens raised among the ancient races, behold, at last he seeks the fountain of the future, seeks new races. O my brethren, soon a new race arises, and a new spring pours into the abyss. The earthquake blocked many springs and caused great thirst, but it also burned inner forces and hidden things. Earthquakes make new springs spring up.In the subversion of ancient peoples, new springs spring forth. Whoever cries: "Behold, here is a spring for many thirsty, a heart for many longing, a will to use many tools: at once crowds gather about him.— That is, many people who are eager to make progress. He who can command must obey—that is a trial!O, so long seeking, and long guessing, and long failing, and long learning, and long trying again and again! As I teach people, human society is a kind of progress, a kind of long-term pursuit, but it seeks a ruler! Yo my brothers, an enterprising, no conditions!I invite you to destroy, destroy the teachings of the soft-hearted and the fence-sitters! Twenty-six O my brothers, in whom lurks the great danger to the future of all mankind?Isn't that in the good and the just? —— Because those people feel and say: "We already know what goodness and justice are, and we also have goodness and justice. Sadly, those who are still pursuing goodness and justice!" All the harm that a wicked man can do, but the harm of a good man is the deadliest! All the harm a cynic can do, but the harm of a good man is the deadliest! O my brethren, there was once a man who read the heart of the good and the just, and they said, "They are Pharisees." But the people did not understand him. Nor can the good and the just understand him, whose hearts are imprisoned in their consciences.The ignorance of a good man is bottomless wisdom. This is the truth, a good man must crucify those who insist on their own virtue! But the second man had a glimpse of their country, the country and mood of the good and the just, and he asked, "Who are they most hated?" Most of all they hated the Creator, the Creator who broke the old evaluations and tables of evaluations, the destroyer, the lawbreaker—they called him a sinner. For the good cannot create; they are always the beginning of ruin:— They crucified the man who wrote the new rating on the new list, they sacrificed the future for themselves - they crucified the future of all mankind! Good people—they are always the beginning of the downfall. Twenty-seven O my brothers, do you also understand this teaching?Do you understand the "last man" I mentioned before—— In whom lurks the greatest danger to the future of all mankind?Isn't that in the good and the just? I ask you to smash, smash the good and the just! —Oh, my brothers, do you also understand this teaching? Twenty-eight Have you run away from me?Are you scared?Do you tremble at this Word? O my brethren, when I command you to smash the list of the good and the just, only then do I set mankind sailing on the sublime seas. Till now great terrors, broad horizons, heart pains, loathing and vomiting, have come upon him. Good men taught you false shores and false safety; you were born and brought up in the deceptions of good men.Everything has been framed and distorted by good people. Those who discovered the land of "humanity" also discovered the land of "the future of mankind", now you should be my sailors, be brave and persevering! My brothers, don't lose your chance, learn not to lose your chance!There is a storm on the sea, and many people are looking for you to save them! There is a storm on the sea: everything is contained in the sea.go ahead!You brave sea adventurers! What is the motherland!Push our rudder straight for the land of our children!Over there, the storm is greater, the storm of our great longing! Twenty-nine "Why is it so hard?" Heitan said to Diamond one day, "Aren't we very close?" Why is it so soft?O my brothers, thus I ask you: are you not my brothers? Why so soft, so submissive, and withdrawn?Why is there so much negation and rejection in your hearts?Why are there so few unyielding colors on your faces? If you will not be anti-fatalists and be indomitable, how will you defeat me in the future? If your strength cannot explode and be split, but shattered into pieces, how can you create with me in the future? Because the creator is strong.And you must bliss in that, that is to press your hand upon a thousand loads, as upon beeswax. —— You must take that as happiness, and write on the will of a thousand years, as if writing on a copper plate—in fact, it is stronger and nobler than a copper plate.Only the most noble is all strong. O my brethren, above you I place this new list: "Be strong!"— thirty Oh you, my will!You, hub of all needs, you and my needs: spare me all small victories! You, what I call destiny, destiny of my soul!You are in me!Keep me out of me for a great destiny! O my will, cherish your last greatness for your last—so that you may not flinch in your triumph!Who is not conquered by his own victory? Alas, in the intoxicated new dawn, whose eyes have not become dark?Alas, when there is victory, whose feet do not tremble and stagger -- cannot stand! One day I may be complete and mature in the great noon: complete and mature as hot ore, as lightning clouds, as swollen breasts:— Complete for myself and my most secret will: a bow longing for its arrow; an arrow longing for its star! —— A star perfected and matured in its noon, the arrows of the destroyed sun burning, piercing, and blessed! A sun, an indomitable will of the sun, ready to perish in triumph! O will!Hub of all needs, you, my needs!Hold me for a great victory! Thus spake Zarathustra. new healer one One day, not long after Zarathustra's return to his cave, he sprang up from his bed, crying out terribly, like a madman; as if someone else was still lying in bed, not wanting to get up.Thus Zarathustra continued to cry, so that his hawks and serpents looked at him in horror, and the creatures in the nearby caves and lairs--flying, walking, and leaping--flew away.But thus says Zarathustra: Arise, my deep thoughts, arise from the depths, you sleepy reptile, I am your rooster and morning light, arise, arise!My voice will soon wake you up! Open your ears and listen: Listen!Because I want to hear from you!stand up!get up!Here is thunder enough to make all graves hear! Wipe away sleepiness from your eyes, and all gloom, and blindness!Hear me also with your eyes: my voice is even the sight of those born blind! You wake up, and you should always stay awake.It's not my custom to wake the old grandmothers from their deep sleep; and tell them to go back to sleep! Are you moving, stretching, and panting by yourself?stand up!get up!You shouldn't be panting, just talk to me!Zarathustra calls thee, Zarathustra the godless! I Zarathustra, vindicator of life, vindicator of suffering, vindicator of cycles—I call to you, my deepest thought! Victory, here you come—I hear you coming!My depths speak, I move my depths into the light! Victory!come here!Give me your hand—ha, ahaha! ——Hehe, hate, hate, hate!Alas!Sad! two As soon as Zarathustra had spoken these words, he fell down, and lay there a long time as a dead man. But when he awoke, he was pale and trembling, and lay still; for a long time he neither ate nor drank.This state continued for seven days; and his animals did not leave him day and night, except that the eagle went out now and then to fetch food.It laid on his couch what it had seized and plundered: so at last Zarathustra lay literally among golden and red fruits, grapes, red apples, beets, and pine-trees.At his feet lay two lambs, which the eagle had wrested from the shepherd with difficulty." At last, after seven days, Zarathustra arose from his bed, took a red apple in his hand, smelled it, and found it delicious.So his animals thought it was time to speak to him. "O Zarathustra," said they, "you have now lay seven days with your eyes closed: do you not get up again yourself? Come out of your cave: the world awaits you like a garden.The fragrant breeze seeks you; all the brooks follow you with joy. Since you have been lying alone for seven days, all things have longed for you - come out of your cave!Everything wants to be your doctor! Or have you a new knowledge, a painful and sad new knowledge?You lie like leavened flour, your soul swells beyond its bounds. " O my animals, replied Zarathustra, so go on, let me hear!It refreshes me to hear your words; and where there are words, there is a world like a garden, it seems to me. How lovely are the words and tones!Are not words and tones a rainbow and a bridge between two things forever separated? Different souls have different universes; each soul is a different world to other souls. Between the most similar things, illusion tells the most artful lie; the smallest gap is the hardest to pass. In me - how can there be a self outside me?I don't have anything!But we forget this while listening to music; what a sweet forgetting! Isn't everything in which man can recover given a name and a tone?To speak is a lovely folly; thus man dances above all things. How lovely is the unreality of tones, and all talk!Our love dances to the sound above the rainbow. — "O Zarathustra," said his animals now, "to those who think as we do, all things dance: they come out, spread their arms, laugh, flee—and circle. All things come, all things go, the wheel of existence circulates forever.All things live and all things die; the time that exists runs forever. Everything perishes, everything is born again; being itself forever builds the same house of being.All things separate and unite; the cycle of existence is ever true to itself. Existence is born with thoughts and thoughts; around this orbit, it will always circle that planet. Any point is the center of the universe.The eternal path is a spiral. " Oh, you chatterers and accordions!Zarathustra answered, and smiled again.How can you know what can be accomplished in seven days! —— How did you know that monster crawled down my throat and choked me!But I bit off its head and spit it out. You -- have you made a song out of that?But here I am lying, still exhausted from biting and spitting, still sick from trying to save myself. Have you observed all of this?O my animals!Are you even cruel?Do you like to see MY Great Pain as people do?Because man is the cruelest animal. From time immemorial man has seen this as the noblest happiness on earth: tragedies and bull-fights and tortures; and when he invented hell, behold, it was man's earthly heaven. When the great ones shout, the little ones run there and stick out their most greedy tongues.But he called that his "compassion." Little man, and especially the poet—how passionately he indicts life in words!Hear him, but don't let go, hear his greed in all accusations!Life conquers the accusers of such life with its eyes. "Do you love me?" said she, the shameless one, "wait a while, I don't have time to talk to you yet." Man is the cruelest animal to himself; and in the hearts of all professed sinners, cross-bearers, and penitents, let not overlook their lust in complaints and accusations! I, myself—so I want to be the accuser of humanity?Alas, my animals, I have only ever known that the worst in man is necessary to the best in him. —— The worst of all is his best power, the firmest stone of the highest Creator; so man must be the best and the worst:— It is not because I am bound on this miserable stake that I know that man is the worst,--but I cry the cry that no man has ever cried: "Alas, the worst of mankind is also very small! Alas, the best of mankind is also very small!" Great abomination for humans - that crawled down my throat and choked me.What the seer foretold: "All are alike, nothing has a moment's worth, wisdom chokes"—that crawled down my throat too, and choked me. The long night, a deadly lassitude, a deadly sorrow, staggers before me, speaking with yawning mouths: "The eternal cycle of your weary little human beings"—thus opened my sorrow, and ham-fisted its feet, and could not sleep. The earth of man seems to me a tomb; its head sinks; all that lives seems to me to be the dust of man, taken as bones, a rotten past. My lamentation sits on the grave of man, unable to rise, my lamentation and question chirp day and night, choke, gnaw, and murmur. "Alas, human beings cycle forever, and so do small human beings forever!" I have seen them naked before, and the greatest and the smallest were too alike, too human—even the great were too human! Even the greatest man is too small! ——That is my hatred of humans!Even the tiniest thing ever recurs—that is my abhorrence of all existence! Oh, hate, hate, hate! —Thus spake Zarathustra, and trembled with elegy; for he recalled his sickness.So his animals stopped him from going any further. "Say no more, you new healer!"—said his animals, go out, where the world awaits you like a garden. To the rosebushes, to the swarm of bees, to the swarm of doves!Especially to the singing birds, from whom they learned to sing! Singing is best for the newly healed; it is for the healthy to talk.When the healthy man wants to sing, then he desires other songs more than the newly cured. " "O you talkers and accordions, be still!" answered Zarathustra, smiling at his animals. "How do you know the consolation I took for myself in seven days! I must sing again—I ask for that consolation and that healing for myself: So would you like to make a song? " "Stop," said his animal again; "you new healer; you'd better get yourself a new harp first." Zarathustra, for new verses need new harps! O Zarathustra, sing and overflow, and heal thy soul with new verses; so that thou mayest bear thy great destiny which no man hath! O Zarathustra, your animals see what you are and must be.Behold, you are the preacher of the perpetual cycle - such is your destiny! You must be the first to teach this doctrine—how could this great fate be but your danger and disease! Behold, we know Thy teachings; all things perpetually recur, and we are one with all things; we have been innumerable times, and all things are one with us. You teach people that there is a "great year of becoming", a giant in a great year; It must be like a kind of hourglass that is forever refurbished, forever flowing. So all those ages are alike in the greatest and alike in the smallest, so we ourselves are alike in the greatest and in the smallest. O Zarathustra, if you were dead now, behold, we also know how you would speak then:—but your animals beg you not to die yet! O that thou speakest, fearless and self-sufficient, for a great burden and oppression shall depart from thee, thou most stoic! —— It is also as perishable as the flesh. But the ties of cause and effect around which I am entwined circulate,--it will recreate me, myself of the causality of perpetual recirculation. I am again with the sun, the earth, the eagle, the serpent,—but not a new life, or a better life, or the same life: I am eternally this one and the same life to come again, to teach the eternal cycle of all things in the greatest and the smallest things! —— Let's talk about the great noon of mankind and the earth, and then preach the superman to mankind. I speak my way.My word destroys me: thus my eternal destiny wills, - I perish like the forerunner! Now is the time for those who are descending to bless themselves.Thus concluded the descent of Zarathustra. "— When the animals said these words, they were silent, thinking what Zarathustra would answer.But Zarathustra not only did not notice their silence, but lay with closed eyes, peacefully, like a sleeper; though he did not fall asleep; for at this moment his soul was meditating.But the serpent and the eagle, when they saw how peaceful he was, drew back cautiously, out of respect for the great tranquility that surrounded him.