Ainsi Parlait Zarathoustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 222

vous ne me comprenez pas!

C'en est fait! C'en est fait! O jeunesse! O midi! O après-midi!
Maintenant le soir est venu et la nuit et l'heure de minuit, - le chien
hurle, et le vent: - le vent n'est-il pas un chien? Il gémit, il
aboie, il hurle. Hélas! Hélas! comme elle soupire, comme elle rit,
comme elle râle et geint, l'heure de minuit!

Comme elle parle sèchement, cette poétesse ivre! a-t-elle dépassé son
ivresse? a-t-elle prolongé sa veille, se met-elle à remâcher?

- Elle remâche sa douleur en rêve, la vieille et profonde heure de
minuit, et plus encore sa joie. Car la joie, quand déjà la douleur est
profonde: LA JOIE EST PLUS PROFONDE QUE LA PEINE.


9.


Vigne, que me joues-tu? Ne t'ai-je pas coupée? Je suis si cruel, tu
saignes: que veut la louange que tu adresses à ma cruauté ivre?

"Tout ce qui s'est accompli, tout ce qui est mûr - veut mourir!" ainsi
parles-tu. Béni soit, béni soit le couteau du vigneron! Mais tout ce
qui n'est pas mûr veut vivre: hélas!

La douleur dit: "Passe! va-t'en douleur!" Mais tout ce qui souffre
veut vivre, pour mûrir, pour devenir joyeux et plein de désirs, - plein
de désirs de ce qui est plus lointain, plus haut, plus clair. "Je veux
des héritiers, ainsi parle tout ce qui souffre, je veux des enfants, je
ne me veux pas _moi_." -

Mais la joie ne veut ni héritiers ni enfants, - la joie se veut
elle-même, elle veut l'éternité, le retour des choses, tout ce qui se
ressemble éternellement.

La douleur dit: "Brise-toi, saigne, coeur! Allez jambes! volez ailes!
Au loin! Là-haut, douleur!" Eh bien! Allons! O mon vieux coeur: LA
DOULEUR DIT: PASSE ET FINIS!


10.


O hommes supérieurs, que vous en semble? Suis-je un devin? suis-je un
rêveur? suis-je un homme ivre? un interprète des songes? une cloche de
minuit?

Une goutte de rosée? une vapeur et un parfum de l'éternité! Ne
l'entendez-vous pas? Ne le sentez-vous pas? Mon monde vient de
s'accomplir, minuit c'est aussi midi.

La douleur est aussi une joie, la malédiction est aussi une
bénédiction, la nuit est aussi un soleil, - éloignez-vous, ou bien l'on
vous enseignera qu'un sage est aussi un fou.

Avez-vous jamais approuvé une joie? O mes amis, alors vous avez aussi
approuvé _toutes_ les douleurs. Toutes les choses sont enchaînées,
enchevêtrées, amoureuses, - vouliez-vous jamais qu'une même fois
revienne deux fois? Avez-vous jamais dit: "Tu me plais, bonheur!
moment! clin

Last Page Next Page

Text Comparison with Homer and Classical Philology

Page 0
We are conscious of this in the circles of the learned just as much as among the followers of that science itself.
Page 1
Where do we not meet with them, these mockers, always ready to aim a blow at the philological "moles," the animals that practise dust-eating _ex professo_, and that grub up and eat for the eleventh time what they have already eaten ten times before.
Page 2
The reason of this want of piety and reverence must lie deeper; and many are in doubt as to whether philologists are lacking in artistic capacity and impressions, so that they are unable to do justice to the ideal, or whether the spirit of negation has become a destructive and iconoclastic principle of theirs.
Page 3
" It may be added that, for a given period--such as our present philological period, for example--the centre of discussion may be removed from the problem of the poet's personality; for even now a painstaking experiment is being made to reconstruct the Homeric poems without the aid of personality, treating them as the work of several different persons.
Page 4
Up to this time the Homeric question had run through the long chain of a uniform process of development, of which the standpoint of those grammarians seemed to be the last link, the last, indeed, which was attainable by antiquity.
Page 5
poem and its tradition was prepared, according to which these discrepancies were not due to Homer, but to those who committed his words to writing and those who sang them.
Page 6
Poetical works, which cause the hearts of even the greatest geniuses to fail when they endeavour to vie with them, and in which unsurpassable images are held up for the admiration of posterity--and yet the poet who wrote them with only a hollow, shaky name, whenever we do lay hold on him; nowhere the solid kernel of a powerful personality.
Page 7
In this universality there is something almost intoxicating in the thought of a popular poem: we feel, with artistic pleasure, the broad, overpowering liberation of a popular gift, and we delight in this natural phenomenon as we do in an uncontrollable cataract.
Page 8
This is the reaction, or, if you will, the superstition, which followed upon the most momentous discovery of historico-philological science, the discovery and appreciation of the _soul of the people_.
Page 9
Now, however, such a contrast between popular poetry and individual poetry does not exist at all; on the contrary, all poetry, and of course popular poetry also, requires an intermediary individuality.
Page 10
People now study biographical details, environment, acquaintances, contemporary events, and believe that by mixing all these ingredients together they will be able to manufacture the wished-for individuality.
Page 11
With this process of aesthetic separation, the conception of Homer gradually became narrower: the old material meaning of the name "Homer" as the father of the heroic epic poem, was changed into the aesthetic meaning of Homer, the father of poetry in general, and likewise its original prototype.
Page 12
But that stringing together of some pieces as the manifestations of a grasp of art which was not yet highly developed, still less thoroughly comprehended and generally esteemed, cannot have been the real Homeric deed, the real Homeric epoch-making event.
Page 13
And that wonderful genius to whom we owe the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ belongs to this thankful posterity: he, too, sacrificed his name on the altar of the primeval father of the Homeric epic, Homeros.
Page 14
" By this I wish to signify that all philological activities should be enclosed and surrounded by a philosophical view of things, in which everything individual and isolated is evaporated as something detestable, and in which.
Page 15
.