(1844 - 1900)
Thus Spake Zarathustra
sublime one saw I today, a solemn one, a penitent of the
spirit: Oh, how my soul laughed at his ugliness! (thus
IN THE morning, however, after
this night, Zarathustra jumped up from his couch, and, having
girded his loins, he came out of his cave glowing and strong,
like a morning sun coming out of gloomy mountains.
"Thou great star,"
spake he, as he had spoken once before, "thou deep eye
of happiness, what would be all thy happiness if thou hadst
not those for whom thou shinest!
And if they remained in their
chambers whilst thou art already awake, and comest and bestowest
and distributest, how would thy proud modesty upbraid for
Well! they still sleep, these
higher men, whilst I am awake: they are not my proper companions!
Not for them do I wait here in my mountains.
At my work I want to be, at
my day: but they understand not what are the signs of my morning,
my step- is not for them the awakening-call.
They still sleep in my cave;
their dream still drinketh at my drunken songs. The audient
ear for me- the obedient ear, is yet lacking in their limbs."
-This had Zarathustra spoken
to his heart when the sun arose: then looked he inquiringly
aloft, for he heard above him the sharp call of his eagle.
"Well!" called he upwards, "thus is it pleasing
and proper to me. Mine animals are awake, for I am awake.
Mine eagle is awake, and like
me honoureth the sun. With eagle-talons doth it grasp at the
new light. Ye are my proper animals; I love you.
But still do I lack my proper
Thus spake Zarathustra; then,
however, it happened that all on a sudden he became aware
that he was flocked around and fluttered around, as if by
innumerable birds,- the whizzing of so many wings, however,
and the crowding around his head was so great that he shut
his eyes. And verily, there came down upon him as it were
a cloud, like a cloud of arrows which poureth upon a new enemy.
But behold, here it was a cloud of love, and showered upon
a new friend.
"What happeneth unto me?"
thought Zarathustra in his astonished heart, and slowly seated
himself on the big stone which lay close to the exit from
his cave. But while he grasped about with his hands, around
him, above him and below him, and repelled the tender birds,
behold, there then happened to him something still stranger:
for he grasped thereby unawares into a mass of thick, warm,
shaggy hair; at the same time, however, there sounded before
him a roar,- a long, soft lion-roar.
"The sign cometh,"
said Zarathustra, and a change came over his heart. And in
truth, when it turned clear before him, there lay a yellow,
powerful animal at his feet, resting its head on his knee,unwilling
to leave him out of love, and doing like a dog which again
findeth its old master. The doves, however, were no less eager
with their love than the lion; and whenever a dove whisked
over its nose, the lion shook its head and wondered and laughed.
When all this went on Zarathustra
spake only a word: "My children are nigh, my children"-,
then he became quite mute. His heart, however, was loosed,
and from his eyes there dropped down tears and fell upon his
hands. And he took no further notice of anything, but sat
there motionless, without repelling the animals further. Then
flew the doves to and fro, and perched on his shoulder, and
caressed his white hair, and did not tire of their tenderness
and joyousness. The strong lion, however, licked always the
tears that fell on Zarathustra's hands, and roared and growled
shyly. Thus did these animals do.All this went on for a long
time, or a short time: for properly speaking, there is no
time on earth for such things-. Meanwhile, however, the higher
men had awakened in Zarathustra's cave, and marshalled themselves
for a procession to go to meet Zarathustra, and give him their
morning greeting: for they had found when they awakened that
he no longer tarried with them. When, however, they reached
the door of the cave and the noise of their steps had preceded
them, the lion started violently; it turned away all at once
from Zarathustra, and roaring wildly, sprang towards the cave.
The higher men, however, when they heard the lion roaring,
cried all aloud as with one voice, fled back and vanished
in an instant.
Zarathustra himself, however,
stunned and strange, rose from his seat, looked around him,
stood there astonished, inquired of his heart, bethought himself,
and remained alone. "What did I hear?" said he at
last, slowly, "what happened unto me just now?"
But soon there came to him
his recollection, and he took in at a glance all that had
taken place between yesterday and to-day. "Here is indeed
the stone," said he, and stroked his beard, "on
it sat I yester-morn; and here came the soothsayer unto me,
and here heard I first the cry which I heard just now, the
great cry of distress.
O ye higher men, your distress
was it that the old soothsayer foretold to me yester-morn,-Unto
your distress did he want to seduce and tempt me: 'O Zarathustra,'
said he to me, 'I come to seduce thee to thy last sin.'
To my last sin?" cried
Zarathustra, and laughed angrily at his own words: "what
hath been reserved for me as my last sin?"
-And once more Zarathustra
became absorbed in himself, and sat down again on the big
stone and meditated. Suddenly he sprang up,"Fellow-suffering!
Fellow-suffering with the higher men!" he cried out,
and his countenance changed into brass. "Well! That-
hath had its time!
My suffering and my fellow-suffering-
what matter about them! Do I then strive after happiness?
I strive after my work!
Well! The lion hath come, my
children are nigh, Zarathustra hath grown ripe, mine hour
hath come:This is my morning, my day beginneth: arise now,
arise, thou great noontide!"-
Thus spake Zarathustra and
left his cave, glowing and strong, like a morning sun coming
out of gloomy mountains.
THE END .
qu'on fait n'est jamais compris mais seulement loué ou blâmé.
Nietzsche, Gay Science