Ainsi Parlait Zarathoustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 119

ils se servent de ces torchons pour faire des journaux.

N'entends-tu pas ici l'esprit devenir jeu de mots? il se fait jeu en de
repoussants calembours! - et c'est avec ces rinçures qu'ils font des
journaux! Ils se provoquent et ne savent pas à quoi. Ils s'échauffent
et ne savent pas pourquoi. Ils font tinter leur fer-blanc et sonner
leur or.

Ils sont froids et ils cherchent la chaleur dans l'eau-de-vie; ils sont
échauffés et cherchent la fraîcheur chez les esprits frigides;
l'opinion publique leur donne la fièvre et les rend tous ardents.

Tous les désirs et tous les vices ont élu domicile ici; mais il y a
aussi des vertueux, il y a ici beaucoup de vertus habiles et occupées:
- beaucoup de vertus occupées, avec des doigts pour écrire, des
culs-de-plomb et des ronds-de-cuir ornés de petites décorations et
pères de filles empaillées et sans derrières.

Il y a ici aussi beaucoup de piété, et beaucoup de courtisanerie dévote
et de bassesses devant le Dieu des armées.

Car c'est d'"en haut" que pleuvent les étoiles et les gracieux
crachats; c'est vers en haut que vont les désirs de toutes les
poitrines sans étoiles.

La lune a sa cour et la cour a ses satellites: mais le peuple mendiant
et toutes les habiles vertus mendiantes élèvent des prières vers tout
ce qui vient de la cour.

"Je sers, tu sers, nous servons" - ainsi prient vers le souverain
toutes les vertus habiles: afin que l'étoile méritée s'accroche enfin à
la poitrine étroite!

Mais la lune tourne autour de tout ce qui est terrestre: c'est ainsi
aussi que le souverain tourne autour de ce qu'il y a de plus terrestre:
- mais ce qu'il y a de plus terrestre, c'est l'or des épiciers.

Le Dieu des armées n'est pas le Dieu des lingots; le souverain
propose, mais l'épicier - dispose!

Au nom de tout ce que tu as de clair, de fort et de bon en toi, ô
Zarathoustra! crache sur cette ville des épiciers et retourne en

Ici le sang vicié, mince et mousseux, coule dans les artères: crache
sur la grande ville qui est le grand dépotoir où s'accumule toute

Crache sur la ville des âmes déprimées et des poitrines étroites, des
yeux envieux et des doigts gluants - sur la ville des importuns et des
impertinents, des écrivassiers et des braillards, des ambitieux
exaspérés: - sur la ville où s'assemble tout ce qui est carié, mal
famé, lascif, sombre, pourri, ulcéré, conspirateur: - crache sur la
grande ville et retourne sur tes pas!" -

Mais en cet endroit, Zarathoustra interrompit le

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This song is done,--the sweet sad cry of rue Sang out its end; A wizard wrought it, he the timely friend, The midday-friend,--no, do not ask me who; At midday 'twas, when one became as two.