Ainsi Parlait Zarathoustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 172

parlait Zarathoustra.



Mais en contournant un rocher, Zarathoustra vit, non loin de là,
au-dessus de lui, sur le même chemin, un homme qui gesticulait des
membres, comme un fou furieux et qui finit par se précipiter à terre à
plat ventre. "Halte! dit alors Zarathoustra à son coeur, celui-là doit
être l'homme supérieur, c'est de lui qu'est venu ce sinistre cri de
détresse, - je veux voir si je puis le secourir." Mais lorsqu'il
accourut à l'endroit où l'homme était couché par terre, il trouva un
vieillard tremblant, aux yeux fixes; et malgré toute la peine que se
donna Zarathoustra pour le redresser et le remettre sur les jambes, ses
efforts demeurèrent vains. Aussi le malheureux ne sembla-t-il pas
s'apercevoir qu'il y avait quelqu'un auprès de lui; au contraire, il ne
cessait de regarder de ci de là en faisant des gestes touchants, comme
quelqu'un qui est abandonné et isolé du monde entier. Pourtant à la
fin, après beaucoup de tremblements, de sursauts et de reploiements sur
soi-même, il commença à se lamenter ainsi:

Qui me réchauffe, qui m'aime encore?
Donnez des mains chaudes!
donnez des coeurs-réchauds!
Etendu, frissonnant,
un moribond à qui l'on chauffe les pieds -
secoué, hélas! de fièvres inconnues,
tremblant devant les glaçons aigus des frimas, chassé par toi, pensée!
Innommable! Voilée! Effrayante!
chasseur derrière les nuages!
Foudroyé par toi,
oeil moqueur qui me regarde dans l'obscurité
- ainsi je suis couché,
je me courbe et je me tords, tourmenté
par tous les martyres éternels,
par toi, chasseur le plus cruel,
toi, le dieu - inconnu...

Frappe plus fort!
Frappe encore une fois!
Transperce, brise ce coeur!
Pourquoi me tourmenter
de flèches épointées?
Que regardes-tu encore,
toi que ne fatigue point la souffrance humaine,
avec un éclair divin dans tes yeux narquois?
Tu ne veux pas tuer,
martyriser seulement, martyriser?
Pourquoi - _me_ martyriser?
Dieu narquois, inconnu? -

Ah! Ah!
Tu t'approches en rampant
au milieu de cette nuit?...
Que veux-tu!
Tu me pousses et me presses -
Ah! tu es déjà trop près!
Tu m'entends respirer,
Tu épies mon coeur,
Jaloux que tu est!

- de quoi donc est-tu jaloux?
Ote-toi! Ote-toi!
Pourquoi cette échelle?
Veux-tu _entrer_,
t'introduire dans mon coeur,
t'introduire dans mes pensées
les plus secrètes?
Impudent! Inconnu! - Voleur!
Que veux-tu voler?
Que veux-tu écouter?
Que veux-tu extorquer,
toi qui tortures!
toi - le dieu-bourreau!
Ou bien, dois-je, pareil au chien,
me rouler devant toi?
m'abandonnant, ivre et hors de moi,
t'offrir mon amour - en rampant!

En vain!
Frappe encore!
toi le plus cruel des aiguillons!
Je ne suis pas un chien - je ne suis que ton gibier,
toi le plus cruel des chasseurs!
Ton prisonnier le plus fier,
brigand derrière les nuages...
Parle enfin,
toi qui te caches derrière les éclairs! Inconnu! parle!
Que veux-tu, toi qui guettes

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Text Comparison with Thoughts out of Season, Part I David Strauss, the Confessor and the Writer - Richard Wagner in Bayreuth.

Page 0
They were also few in number; for, in addition to an exact knowledge of the German language, there was also required sympathy and a certain enthusiasm for the startling ideas of the original, as well as a considerable feeling for poetry, and that highest form of it, religious poetry.
Page 1
By a too ready acceptance of Nietzsche it has come to pass that his enemies are, as a rule, a far superior body of men to those who call themselves his eager and enthusiastic followers.
Page 4
For if Nietzsche were nothing else but this customary type of German philosopher, you would again have to pay the bill largely; and it would be very wise on your part to study him:.
Page 8
This is the reason why they both speak so violently, why they both attack with such bitter fervour the utilitarian and materialistic attitude of English Science, why they both so ironically brush aside the airy and fantastic ideals of German Philosophy--this is why they both loudly declare (to use Disraeli's words) "that we are the slaves of false knowledge; that our memories are filled with ideas that have no origin in truth; that we believe what our fathers credited, who were convinced without a cause; that we study human nature in a charnel house, and, like the nations of the East, pay divine honours to the maniac and the.
Page 15
Can we picture him, then,--a young and enthusiastic scholar with a cultured love of music, and particularly of Wagner's music, eagerly scanning all his circle, the whole city and country in which he lived--yea, even the whole continent on which he lived--for something or some one that would set his doubts at rest concerning the feasibility of his ideal? Can we now picture this young man coming face to face with probably one of the greatest geniuses of his age--with a man whose very presence must have been electric, whose every word or movement must have imparted some power to his surroundings--with Richard Wagner? If we can conceive of what the mere attention, even, of a man like Wagner must have meant to Nietzsche in his twenties, if we can form any idea of the intoxicating effect produced upon him when this attention developed into friendship, we almost refuse to believe that Nietzsche could have been critical at all at first.
Page 25
that a whole procession of grand and heroic figures has already filed past us, whose every movement, the expression of whose every feature, whose questioning voice and burning eye betrayed the one fact, _that they were seekers_, and that they sought that which the Culture-Philistine had long fancied he had found--to wit, a genuine original German culture? Is there a soil--thus they seemed to ask--a soil that is pure enough, unhandselled enough, of sufficient virgin sanctity, to allow the mind of Germany to build its house upon it? Questioning thus, they wandered through the wilderness, and the woods of wretched ages and narrow conditions, and as seekers they disappeared from our vision; one of them, at an advanced age, was even able to say, in the name of all: "For half a century my life has been hard and bitter enough; I have allowed myself no rest, but have ever striven, sought and done, to the best and to the utmost of my ability.
Page 32
If your reader so regulates the perusal of the 368 pages of your religious catechism as to read only one page a day--that is to say, if he take it in the smallest possible doses-then, perhaps, we should be able to believe that he might suffer some evil effect from the book--if only as the outcome of his vexation when the results he expected fail to make themselves felt.
Page 48
Says Strauss: "I should say that all moral action arises from the individual's acting in consonance with the idea of kind" (p.
Page 51
To the Philistine, however, even Strauss's metaphysics is preferable to Christianity's, and the notion of an erratic God more congenial than that of one who works miracles.
Page 52
with everywhere, and you are perfectly justified in promising to those who happen to be kicked a sight of those sublime beings as far as the knee.
Page 55
For precisely in him do we find that repulsive need of rest and that incidental semi-listless attention to, and coming to terms with, philosophy, culture, and every serious thing on earth.
Page 56
To begin with, that culture has contentment written in its every feature, and will allow of no important changes being introduced into the present state of German education.
Page 65
He would be quite happy to be regarded as mischievous, bold, malicious, daring; but his ideal of bliss would consist in finding himself compared with either Lessing or Voltaire--because these men were undoubtedly anything but Philistines.
Page 69
affairs continues," he says, "in the year 1900 German classics will cease to be understood, for the simple reason that no other language will be known, save the trumpery jargon of the noble present, the chief characteristic of which is impotence.
Page 79
The day happened to be the first of his sixtieth year, and his whole past now appeared as but a long preparation for this great moment.
Page 83
He has many means whereby he can attain to honour and might; peace and plenty persistently offer themselves to him, but only in that form recognised by the modern man, which to the straightforward artist is no.
Page 108
like Faust, would either be obliged to turn blind, or be permitted to become so.
Page 122
All these are things which have entered the language through sin and depravity.
Page 128
To bring restless and contending masses into simple rhythmic movement, and to exercise one will over a bewildering host of claims and desires--these are the tasks for which he feels he was born, and in the performance of which he finds freedom.
Page 137
rather-- Soar aloft in daring flight Out of sight of thine own years! In thy mirror, gleaming bright, Glimpse of distant dawn appears.