Jenseits von Gut und Böse

By Friedrich Nietzsche

Page 131

Und meinen Honig - wer hat ihn geschmeckt?....

- Da _seid_ ihr, Freunde! - Weh, doch _ich_ bin's nicht,
Zu dem ihr wolltet?
Ihr zögert, staunt - ach, dass ihr lieber grolltet!
Ich - bin's nicht mehr? Vertauscht Hand, Schritt, Gesicht?
Und was ich bin, euch Freunden - bin ich's nicht?

Ein Andrer ward ich? Und mir selber fremd?
Mir selbst entsprungen?
Ein Ringer, der zu oft sich selbst bezwungen?
Zu oft sich gegen eigne Kraft gestemmt,
Durch eignen Sieg verwundet und gehemmt?

Ich suchte, wo der Wind am schärfsten weht?
Ich lernte wohnen,
Wo Niemand wohnt, in öden Eisbär-Zonen,
Verlernte Mensch und Gott, Fluch und Gebet?
Ward zum Gespenst, das über Gletscher geht?

- Ihr alten Freunde! Seht! Nun blickt ihr bleich,
Voll Lieb' und Grausen!
Nein, geht! Zürnt nicht! Hier - könntet _ihr_ nicht hausen:
Hier zwischen fernstem Eis- und Felsenreich -
Hier muss man Jäger sein und gemsengleich.

Ein _schlimmer_ Jäger ward ich! - Seht, wie steil
Gespannt mein Bogen!
Der Stärkste war's, der solchen Zug gezogen--:
Doch wehe nun! Gefährlich ist _der_ Pfeil,
Wie _kein_ Pfeil, - fort von hier! Zu eurem Heil!.....

Ihr wendet euch? - Oh Herz, du trugst genung,
Stark blieb dein Hoffen:
Halt _neuen_ Freunden deine Thüren offen!
Die alten lass! Lass die Erinnerung!
Warst einst du jung, jetzt - bist du besser jung!

Was je uns knüpfte, Einer Hoffnung Band, -
Wer liest die Zeichen,
Die Liebe einst hineinschrieb, noch, die bleichen?
Dem Pergament vergleich ich's, das die Hand
zu fassen _scheut_, - ihm gleich verbräunt, verbrannt.

Nicht Freunde mehr, das sind - wie nenn' ich's doch? -
Nur Freunds-Gespenster!
Das klopft mir wohl noch Nachts an Herz und Fenster,
Das sieht

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Text Comparison with Thus Spake Zarathustra: A Book for All and None

Page 7
In the autumn of 1886 I chanced to be there again when he was revisiting this small, forgotten world of happiness for the last time.
Page 28
May they become convalescents and overcomers, and create higher bodies for themselves! Neither is Zarathustra indignant at a convalescent who looketh tenderly on his delusions, and at midnight stealeth round the grave of his God; but sickness and a sick frame remain even in his tears.
Page 55
Now be ye friends the heirs of my goal; to you throw I the golden ball.
Page 71
Inspired ones they resemble: but it is not the heart that inspireth them--but vengeance.
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A craving for love is within me, which speaketh itself the language of love.
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And as the lesser surrendereth himself to the greater that he may have delight and power over the least of all, so doth even the greatest surrender himself, and staketh--life, for the sake of power.
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Rather would I be a day-labourer in the nether-world, and among the shades of the by-gone!--Fatter and fuller than ye, are forsooth the nether-worldlings! This, yea this, is bitterness to my bowels, that I can neither endure you naked nor clothed, ye present-day men! All that is unhomelike in the future, and whatever maketh strayed birds shiver, is verily more homelike and familiar than your "reality.
Page 124
Or they learn to shudder with a learned semi-madcap, who waiteth in darkened rooms for spirits to come to him--and the spirit runneth away entirely! Or they listen to an old roving howl-and growl-piper, who hath learnt from the sad winds the sadness of sounds; now pipeth he as the wind, and preacheth sadness in sad strains.
Page 129
For to many is marriage promised, and more than marriage,-- --To many that are more unknown to each other than man and woman:--and who hath fully understood HOW UNKNOWN to each other are man and woman! Voluptuousness:--but I will have hedges around my thoughts, and even around my words, lest swine and libertine should break into my gardens!-- Passion for power: the glowing scourge of the hardest of the heart-hard; the cruel torture reserved for the cruellest themselves; the gloomy flame of living pyres.
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My spiritual conscience requireth from me that it should be so--that I should know one thing, and not know all else: they are a loathing unto me, all the semi-spiritual, all the hazy, hovering, and visionary.
Page 167
.
Page 183
'WHERE is--MY home?' For it do I ask and seek, and have sought, but have not found it.
Page 188
And that we despairing ones have now come into thy cave, and already no longer despair:--it is but a prognostic and a presage that better ones are on the way to thee,-- --For they themselves are on the way to thee, the last remnant of God among men--that is to say, all the men of great longing, of great loathing, of great satiety, --All who do not want to live unless they learn again to HOPE--unless they learn from thee, O Zarathustra, the GREAT hope!" Thus spake the king on the right, and seized the hand of Zarathustra in order to kiss it; but Zarathustra checked his veneration, and stepped back frightened, fleeing as it were, silently and suddenly into the far distance.
Page 198
Unto all of you, whatever honours ye like to assume in your names, whether ye call yourselves 'the free spirits' or 'the conscientious,' or 'the penitents of the spirit,' or 'the unfettered,' or 'the great longers,'-- --Unto all of you, who like me suffer FROM THE GREAT LOATHING, to whom the old God hath died, and as yet no new God lieth in cradles and swaddling clothes--unto all of you is mine evil spirit and magic-devil favourable.
Page 206
other leg-- In the sanctified precincts, Nigh her very dearest, very tenderest, Flapping and fluttering and flickering skirting.
Page 223
, par.
Page 231
If it contained only "The Vision and the Enigma" and "The Old and New Tables" I should still be of this opinion; for in the former of these discourses we meet with what Nietzsche regarded as the crowning doctrine of his philosophy and in "The Old and New Tables" we have a valuable epitome of practically all his leading principles.
Page 234
Now we KNOW; there is now no longer any excuse for mistakes which will tend to botch and disfigure the type man.
Page 240
Here we see that he had anticipated the most likely form their criticism would take (see also the last two verses of par.
Page 255
Zarathustra hath grown ripe.