The fall of our footsteps ringeth too hollow through their streets. The saint laughed at Zarathustra, and spake thus: "Then see to it that they accept thy treasures! They are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we come with gifts. "No," replied Zarathustra, "I give no alms. If, however, thou wilt give unto them, give them no more than an alms, and let them also beg for it!" "Take rather part of their load, and carry it along with them-that will be most agreeable unto them: if only it be agreeable unto thee! Zarathustra answered: "What spake I of love! I am bringing gifts unto men." "Why," said the saint, "did I go into the forest and the desert? Was it not because I loved men far too well? Alas, wilt thou now go ashore? Alas, wilt thou again drag thy body thyself?" Goeth he not along like a dancer?Īltered is Zarathustra a child hath Zarathustra become an awakened one is Zarathustra: what wilt thou do in the land of the sleepers?Īs in the sea hast thou lived in solitude, and it hath borne thee up. Pure is his eye, and no loathing lurketh about his mouth. Then thou carriedst thine ashes into the mountains: wilt thou now carry thy fire into the valleys? Fearest thou not the incendiary's doom? Zarathustra he was called but he hath altered. "No stranger to me is this wanderer: many years ago passed he by. And thus spake the old man to Zarathustra: When he entered the forest, however, there suddenly stood before him an old man, who had left his holy cot to seek roots. Zarathustra went down the mountain alone, no one meeting him. Lo! This cup is again going to empty itself, and Zarathustra is again going to be a man. Like thee must I GO DOWN, as men say, to whom I shall descend.īless me, then, thou tranquil eye, that canst behold even the greatest happiness without envy!īless the cup that is about to overflow, that the water may flow golden out of it, and carry everywhere the reflection of thy bliss! Therefore must I descend into the deep: as thou doest in the evening, when thou goest behind the sea, and givest light also to the nether-world, thou exuberant star! I would fain bestow and distribute, until the wise have once more become joyous in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches. Lo! I am weary of my wisdom, like the bee that hath gathered too much honey I need hands outstretched to take it. But we awaited thee every morning, took from thee thine overflow and blessed thee for it.
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