Grade 4 out of 5 stars from shim_pruts 16.08.2018 13:15
I look at some things with irony, but I don’t show off, I don’t have the habit of doing this. Reading Nietzsche is not hard and not easy, it was just interesting to know what a person who is disappointed in God thinks before sincerely believing in him. Believe in higher intelligence and in such historical figure, like Jesus Christ, but selfless people have not met, because everyone is waiting for a reciprocal gesture.
Different sources claim that Jesus was a dirty trick? But the Bible says that he was a meek and humble person, I trust the biblical source more.
I am devoid of national prejudices, so I cannot be offended by calling me a Ukrainian.
Grade 4 out of 5 stars from modus_2005 30.03.2017 16:00
>Superman lived already on earth and sacrificed himself.
Jesus is not superhuman. Read the Anti-Christ.
Grade 5 out of 5 stars by Jerzy 20.01.2017 20:47
An excellent book in the best translation.
Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Ru5 28.12.2016 16:39
My friend gave me this book to read - that's what she woke up in me: the reader's experiences plus my beliefs.
We kindly request: there is no need to raise controversy. I have an unorthodox outlook on a lot of things.
Writes a critic! Adherents and followers of the teachings of F. Nietzsche, if any, please do not treat me hostilely, because everyone has their own opinion and judgment about everything.
The book fell into my hands by accident. I am categorically not a supporter of the teachings of Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. I don’t call the work “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” a Bible, even if it’s Nietzsche’s. Because the Bible has no analogues. The teaching of F. W. Nietzsche, which he preaches through the lips of the sage Zarathustra, tired of life, caused me a storm of contradictions, a pun of emotional unrest inspired by the wild flow of Zarathustra's speeches about the subtle matter of the soul, about life, about death. Emotions changed one after another, the explosion of protest did not fade away in my soul while reading this story. The propagandist thoughts that Zarathustra poured into the ears and hearts of casual passers-by, inexperienced in the simplicity of their townspeople about the Superman, involuntarily made my mouth unclench in big smile, and in my eyes there was a slight irony.
Irony concerning the "Truth of Zarathustra". Truly, this proud Zarathustra does not want to acknowledge the fact that the Superman already lived on earth and sacrificed himself. Voluntarily gave himself
The most to torture the executioners. He sacrificed himself, in the name of saving the human soul.
His mother was a pious Jew, His Father is our Creator. Can this holy man be called a Jew? Oh no! He is the Messiah! He is the Savior of our souls!
He was conceived from the Holy Spirit, born from a Holy woman, lived among people, died a martyr's death, rose again as a Saint, ascended to heaven as the Lord!
Zarathustra preaches contempt for the weak, rejection of morality and negative attitude to all moral principles.
Jesus Christ is the image of the perfect man. An eternal example, an undeniable ideal of morality, kindness, love, mercy, compassion. high values never get old.
If you look at the Savior only as a person, then he has no equal among us. Because no one has surpassed him yet.
In the ancient world, only the Atlanteans were likened to gods - they, by the right of their perfection, bore the status of the Superman.
I am not an atheist. I am a believer, and I say what I think, I say how I feel.
Friedrich Nietzsche created a truly brilliant story, but fortunately for me it did not find an echo in my heart. Our souls walk different paths of eternity! I read two of the works of Friedrich Nietzsche, for his philosophical thoughts go against my own beliefs, and for this reason, in part, reading Nietzsche has become emotionally difficult for me. And here it is not only a matter of agreement or disagreement, there is something more, something that cannot be described in words.
In my perfect performance Supermen are reminiscent of hobbits: good-natured, cheerful, hospitable, gentle, peaceful, sociable people :-)
Grade 4 out of 5 stars from modus_2005 26.12.2015 01:16
Very difficult to read.
More precisely, just read (as fiction) - easy, but then what's the point?
And thoughtfully, slowly, living and associating each line with the previously experienced, it is difficult.
It is even more difficult when the line is not associated with anything - this is confusing.
I read it line by line, I liked it. Until the end (unfortunately) did not master, there was not enough life experience.
Of the minuses - reading in this way (living) takes a lot of time and a certain life baggage is needed to understand the essence.
What is the essence of a person’s life, what should he strive for - thinkers have repeatedly thought about this in different time. And any person, for sure, is thinking about how to find the true path. Friedrich Nietzsche shared his ideas in Thus Spoke Zarathustra. This philosophical novel, which is poetic and aphoristic, it is hard to perceive, because each time you have to peer deep into the images, metaphors, sayings of the author, but it's worth it.
Nietzsche originally wrote three parts of the work, and then wanted to create three more, but he only managed to write the fourth. Subsequently, they were combined into one book, however, the incompleteness of some of the author's thoughts is noticeable, which allows the reader to think for himself and come to his own conclusions.
The writer paid attention to the topic of human communication with his own kind, himself and nature. You can see his views, worldview and assessments, his attitude to life and people is noticeable. Nietzsche says that everyone should go their own way, but at the same time, they should be prepared that one day history will repeat itself, because life is cyclical in all its manifestations. You can argue or agree with his opinion, the only thing that is clear is that his work will make you immerse yourself in thoughts, asking difficult questions, working on your spiritual development.
On our website you can download the book "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" by Nietzsche Friedrich Wilhelm for free and without registration in epub, fb2, pdf, txt format, read the book online or buy the book in the online store.
Thus spoke Zarathustra
Thank you for downloading the book for free. electronic library http://filosoff.org/ Happy reading! Friedrich Nietzsche. "Thus spoke Zarathustra. A book for everyone and for no one" Preface 1 When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his homeland and the lake of his homeland and went to the mountains. Here he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and for ten years he did not tire of it. But finally his heart changed - and one morning he rose with the dawn, stood in front of the sun and spoke to him like this: “Great luminary! years you have been ascending to my cave: you would have been fed up with your light and this way, if it were not for me, my eagle and my snake.But every morning we waited for you, received your abundance from you and blessed you.Look! like a bee that has gathered too much honey, I need hands outstretched to me, I would like to bestow and bestow until the wise among men again rejoice in their foolishness, and the poor in their riches, for this I must descend down: as you do every evening, plunging into the sea and bringing your light to the other side of the world, you, the richest luminary! I must, like you, set down, as the people to whom I want to go down call it. So bless me, you , a calm eye, without envy looking even at excessively great happiness! Bless the cup, ready to spill, so that golden moisture flows from it and carries everywhere a reflection of your joy! Look, this cup wants to become empty again, and Zarathustra wants to become a man again. "- Thus began the sunset of Zarathustra. 2Zarathustra descended alone from the mountain, and no one met him. a sacred hut to look for roots in the forest.” And so the elder Zarathustra said: “This wanderer is no stranger to me: several years ago he passed here. He was called Zarathustra; but he has changed. Then you carried your ashes to the mountain; do you now want to carry your fire into the valleys? Are you not afraid of punishment for the arsonist? Yes, I recognize Zarathustra. His eyes are pure, and there is no disgust on his lips. Isn't that why he's walking, like he's dancing? Zarathustra was transformed, Zarathustra became a child, Zarathustra woke up: what do you want among the sleepers? Like the sea, you lived alone, and the sea bore you. Alas! do you want to go on land? Do you want to drag your body again?" Zarathustra answered: "I love people." "Isn't that why," said the saint, "I also went into the forest and the desert? Is it not because I also loved people too much? Now I love God: I do not love people. Man is too imperfect for me. Love for a man would have killed me." Zarathustra replied: "What did I say about love! I bring people a gift." "Don't give them anything," said the saint. “Better take something off them and carry it with them—that will be the best thing for them, if only it’s the best thing for you too!” And if you want to give them, give them no more alms and still make them ask for it from you!" "No," replied Zarathustra, "I don't give alms. I'm not poor enough for that." : "Then make sure they accept your treasures! They are distrustful of hermits and do not believe that we come to give. Our footsteps through the streets sound too lonely for them. And if at night, in their beds, they hear a man coming long before sunrise, they ask themselves: Where is this thief stealing? Do not go to people and stay in the forest! Go to the animals! Why don't you want to be like me, a bear among bears, a bird among birds?" "What does a saint do in the forest?" asked Zarathustra. The saint answered: "I compose songs and sing them; and when I compose songs, I laugh, weep, and mutter in my beard: thus do I praise God. By singing, weeping, laughing and muttering, I praise God, my God. But tell me, what are you bringing us as a gift?" Hearing these words, Zarathustra bowed to the saint and said: "What could I give you! Let me leave quickly, so that I do not take anything from you!" So they parted ways different sides , an old man and a man, and everyone laughed as children laugh. But when Zarathustra was left alone, he spoke thus in his heart: "Is it possible! This holy old man in his forest has not yet heard that God is dead." 3 Arriving at the nearest city, lying beyond the forest, Zarathustra found there a multitude of people gathered in the marketplace: for he was promised a spectacle - a dancer on a tightrope. And Zarathustra spoke thus to the people: I teach you about the superman. Man is something that must be transcended. What have you done to surpass him? All beings have hitherto created something higher than themselves; and you want to be the ebb of this great wave and return to the state of the beast rather than surpass man? What is a monkey in relation to man? A laughing stock or a painful shame. And the same must be the man for the superman: a laughing stock or a painful shame. You have made the journey from worm to man, but much of you is still of the worm. Once you were an ape, and even now man is more of an ape than any of the apes. Even the wisest among you is only discord and a mixture of plant and ghost. But do I tell you to become a ghost or a plant? Look, I'm teaching you about the superman! Superman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: let the superman be the meaning of the earth! I conjure you, my brothers, stay true to the earth and do not believe those who tell you about supermundane hopes! They are poisoners whether they know it or not. They despise life, those dying and self-poisoned, from whom the earth is tired: let them disappear! Formerly the blasphemy against God was the greatest blasphemy; but God died, and these blasphemers died with him. Now to blaspheme the earth is the most terrible crime, just as to honor the essence of the incomprehensible higher than the meaning of the earth! Once the soul looked at the body with contempt: and then there was nothing higher than this contempt - she wanted to see the body thin, disgusting and hungry. So she thought to flee from the body and from the earth. Oh, this soul itself was still thin, disgusting and hungry; and cruelty was the lust of that soul! But even now, my brethren, tell me: what does your body say about your soul? Is not your soul poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction? Truly, man is a dirty stream. You have to be the sea to take in a dirty stream and not become unclean. Look, I teach you about the superman: he is the sea where your great contempt can sink. What is the highest thing that you can experience? This is the hour of great contempt. The hour when your happiness becomes disgusting to you, as well as your reason and your virtue. The hour when you say: “What is my happiness! It is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction. My happiness should have justified my very existence!” The hour when you say: “What is my mind! Does he seek knowledge like a lion for his food? He is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction!” The hour when you say: “What is my virtue! She hasn't made me mad yet. How weary I am of my good and of my evil! All this is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction!” The hour when you say: “Where is my justice! I do not see that I am fire and coal. And the just is fire and coal!” The hour when you say: “What is my pity! Isn't pity a cross to which everyone who loves people is nailed? But my pity is not crucifixion. Have you already said that? Have you already exclaimed like this? Ah, if only I had heard you so exclaiming! Not your sin - your self-satisfaction cries out to heaven; the nothingness of your sins cries out to heaven! But where is the lightning that will lick you with its tongue? Where is the madness that should be instilled in you? Look, I am teaching you about the superman: he is this lightning, he is this madness! While Zarathustra was speaking thus, someone shouted from the crowd: “We have heard enough about the rope dancer; let us show it!” And all the people began to laugh at Zarathustra. And the rope dancer, thinking that these words referred to him, set to work. 4 Zarathustra looked at the people and wondered. Then he said this: Man is a rope stretched between an animal and a superman, a rope over an abyss. Passage is dangerous, it is dangerous to be on the way, the gaze turned back is dangerous, fear and stopping are dangerous. What is important in a person is that he is a bridge, not a goal: in a person one can love only that he is a transition and death. I love those who do not know how to live otherwise than to perish, for they go over the bridge. I love great haters, for they are great admirers and arrows of yearning for the other shore. I love those who do not look behind the stars for a reason to perish and become a victim - but sacrifice themselves to the earth so that the earth will one day become the earth of the overman. I love the one who lives for knowledge and who wants to know so that one day the superman may live. Because he wants his death. I love the one who works and invents to build a dwelling for the superman and prepare the earth, animals and plants for his coming: for so he wants his death. I love the one who loves his virtue: for virtue is the will to perish and the arrow of anguish. I love him who does not save a drop of spirit for himself, but wants to be wholly the spirit of his virtue: for thus, like a spirit, he passes over a bridge. I love the one who, out of his virtue, makes his gravity and his misfortune: for thus he wants to live and live no more for the sake of his virtue. I love someone who doesn't want to have too many virtues. One virtue is more virtue than two, for it
A book for everyone and for no one
Friedrich Nietzsche "Also Sprach Zarathustra"
Part one
Foreword by Zarathustra
1
When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his homeland and the lake of his homeland and went to the mountains. Here he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and for ten years he did not tire of it. But finally his heart changed - and one morning he rose with the dawn, stood in front of the sun and spoke to him like this:
"Great light! What would your happiness be reduced to if you didn’t have those for whom you shine!
For ten years you have been ascending to my cave: you would have been fed up with your light and this road, if it were not for me, my eagle and my snake.
But every morning we waited for you, received from you your abundance and blessed you.
Look! I am fed up with my wisdom, like a bee that has collected too much honey; I need hands outstretched to me.
I would like to bestow and bestow until the wise among men again rejoice in their foolishness, and the poor in their riches.
To do this, I must go down: as you do every evening, plunging into the sea and bringing your light to the other side of the world, you, the richest luminary!
I must, like you, roll up, as people call it, to which I want to go down.
So bless me, you calm eye, without envy looking even at excessively great happiness!
Bless the cup, ready to spill, so that golden moisture flows from it and carries everywhere a reflection of your joy!
Look, this cup wants to become empty again, and Zarathustra wants to become a man again.
2
Zarathustra descended alone from the mountain, and no one met him. But when he entered the forest, an old man suddenly appeared before him, leaving his sacred hut to look for roots in the forest. And so the elder said to Zarathustra:
“This wanderer is not alien to me: several years ago he passed here. He was called Zarathustra; but he has changed.
Then you carried your ashes to the mountain; do you now want to carry your fire into the valleys? Are you not afraid of punishment for the arsonist?
Yes, I recognize Zarathustra. His eyes are pure, and there is no disgust on his lips. Isn't that why he's walking, like he's dancing?
Zarathustra was transformed, Zarathustra became a child, Zarathustra woke up: what do you want among the sleepers?
Like the sea, you lived alone, and the sea bore you. Alas! do you want to go on land? Do you want to carry your own body again?"
Zarathustra replied: "I love people."
“Isn’t that why,” said the saint, “I also went into the forest and the desert? Is it not because I also loved people too much?
Now I love God: I do not love people. Man is too imperfect for me. Loving a man would kill me."
Zarathustra answered: “What have I said about love! I bring people a gift.
“Give them nothing,” said the saint. “Better take something off them and carry it with them—that will be the best thing for them, if only it’s the best thing for you too!”
And if you want to give them, give them no more alms and still make them beg for it from you!”
“No,” answered Zarathustra, “I do not give alms. I'm not poor enough for that."
The saint began to laugh at Zarathustra and said thus: “Then try to make them accept your treasures! They are distrustful of hermits and do not believe that we come to give.
Our footsteps through the streets sound too lonely for them. And if at night, in their beds, they hear a man coming long before sunrise, they ask themselves: Where is this thief stealing?
Do not go to people and stay in the forest! Go to the animals! Why don't you want to be like me - a bear among bears, a bird among birds?
"And what does the saint do in the forest?" asked Zarathustra.
The saint answered: “I compose songs and sing them; and when I compose songs, I laugh, weep, and mutter in my beard: thus do I praise God.
By singing, weeping, laughing and muttering, I praise God, my God. But tell me, what are you bringing us as a gift?
Hearing these words, Zarathustra bowed to the saint and said: “What could I give you! Let me leave quickly, so that I don’t take anything from you!” So they parted in different directions, the old man and the man, and each laughed, as children laugh.
But when Zarathustra was left alone, he spoke thus in his heart: “Is it possible! This holy elder in his forest had not yet heard that God is dead".
3
Arriving at the nearest city, lying behind the forest, Zarathustra found there a multitude of people gathered in the marketplace: for he was promised a spectacle - a dancer on a tightrope. And Zarathustra spoke thus to the people:
I teach you about the superman. Man is something that must be transcended. What have you done to surpass him?
All beings have hitherto created something higher than themselves; and you want to be the ebb of this great wave and return to the state of the beast rather than surpass man?
What is a monkey in relation to man? A laughing stock or a painful shame. And the same must be the man for the superman: a laughing stock or a painful shame.
You have made the journey from worm to man, but much of you is still of the worm. Once you were an ape, and even now man is more of an ape than any of the apes.
Even the wisest among you is only discord and a mixture of plant and ghost. But do I tell you to become a ghost or a plant?
Look, I'm teaching you about the superman!
Superman is the meaning of the earth. Let your will say: yes it will superman by the meaning of the earth!
I conjure you, my brothers, stay true to the earth and do not believe those who tell you about supermundane hopes! They are poisoners whether they know it or not.
They despise life, those dying and self-poisoned, from whom the earth is tired: let them disappear!
Formerly the blasphemy against God was the greatest blasphemy; but God died, and these blasphemers died with him. Now to blaspheme the earth is the most terrible crime, just as to honor the essence of the incomprehensible higher than the meaning of the earth!
Once the soul looked at the body with contempt: and then there was nothing higher than this contempt - she wanted to see the body thin, disgusting and hungry. So she thought to flee from the body and from the earth.
Oh, this soul itself was still thin, disgusting and hungry; and cruelty was the lust of that soul!
But even now, my brethren, tell me: what does your body say about your soul? Is not your soul poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction?
Truly, man is a dirty stream. You have to be the sea to take in a dirty stream and not become unclean.
Look, I teach you about the superman: he is the sea where your great contempt can sink.
What is the highest thing that you can experience? This is the hour of great contempt. The hour when your happiness becomes disgusting to you, as well as your reason and your virtue.
The hour when you say: “What is my happiness! It is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction. My happiness should have justified my very existence!”
The hour when you say: “What is my mind! Does he seek knowledge like a lion for his food? He is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction!”
The hour when you say: “What is my virtue! She hasn't made me mad yet. How weary I am of my good and of my evil! All this is poverty and filth and miserable self-satisfaction!”
The hour when you say: “Where is my justice! I do not see that I am fire and coal. And the just is fire and coal!”
The hour when you say: “What is my pity! Isn't pity a cross to which everyone who loves people is nailed? But my pity is not crucifixion.
Have you already said that? Have you already exclaimed like this? Ah, if only I had heard you so exclaiming!
Not your sin - your self-satisfaction cries out to heaven; the nothingness of your sins cries out to heaven!
But where is the lightning that will lick you with its tongue? Where is the madness that should be instilled in you?
Look, I am teaching you about the superman: he is this lightning, he is this madness! -
While Zarathustra was speaking thus, someone shouted from the crowd: “We have heard enough about the rope dancer; let us show it!” And all the people began to laugh at Zarathustra. And the rope dancer, thinking that these words referred to him, set to work.
4
Zarathustra looked at the people and wondered. Then he said this:
Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the superman, a rope over an abyss.
Passage is dangerous, it is dangerous to be on the way, the gaze turned back is dangerous, fear and stopping are dangerous.
What matters in a person is that he is a bridge, not a goal: in a person you can love only that he is transition And death.
I love those who do not know how to live otherwise than to perish, for they go over the bridge.
I love great haters, for they are great admirers and arrows of yearning for the other shore.
I love those who do not look behind the stars for a reason to perish and become a victim - but sacrifice themselves to the earth so that the earth will one day become the earth of the overman.
I love the one who lives for knowledge and who wants to know so that one day the superman may live. Because he wants his death.
I love the one who works and invents to build a dwelling for the superman and prepare the earth, animals and plants for his coming: for so he wants his death.
I love the one who loves his virtue: for virtue is the will to perish and the arrow of anguish.
I love him who does not save a drop of spirit for himself, but wants to be wholly the spirit of his virtue: for thus, like a spirit, he passes over a bridge.
I love the one who, out of his virtue, makes his gravity and his misfortune: for thus he wants to live and live no more for the sake of his virtue.
I love someone who doesn't want to have too many virtues. One virtue is more virtue than two, for it is to a greater extent the knot on which the attack is held.
I love the one whose soul is wasted, who does not want gratitude and does not give it back: for he constantly gives and does not want to take care of himself.
I love someone who is ashamed when dice it falls to his luck, and then who asks: am I a cheating player? Because he wants death.
I love the one who throws golden words ahead of his deeds and always fulfills even more than he promises: for he wants his own death.
I love the one who justifies the people of the future and redeems the people of the past: for he wants death from the people of the present.
I love him who punishes his God, because he loves his God: for he must perish from the wrath of his God.
I love the one whose soul is deep even in wounds and who can perish at the slightest trial: he walks so willingly over the bridge.
I love him whose soul is overflowing, so that he forgets himself, and all things are contained in him: thus all things become his ruin.
I love the one who is free in spirit and free in heart: so his head is only the womb of his heart, and his heart draws him to death.
I love all those who are heavy drops falling one after another from a dark cloud hanging over a man: lightning approaches, they proclaim and perish like heralds.
Look, I am the herald of lightning and the heavy drop from the cloud; but this lightning is called superman.
5
Having uttered these words, Zarathustra looked again at the people and fell silent. “Here they stand,” he said in his heart, “here they laugh: they do not understand me, my words are not for these ears.
Is it really necessary to tear their ears first, so that they learn to listen with their eyes? Is it really necessary to rattle like timpani and like preachers of repentance? Or do they only believe the stutterer?
They have something they are proud of. But what do they call that which makes them proud? They call it culture, it distinguishes them from the goatherds.
Therefore, they do not like to hear the word “contempt” about themselves. I will speak to their pride.
I will speak to them about the most contemptible creature, and this is the last person."
And thus spoke Zarathustra to the people:
The time has come for man to set his own goal. The time has come for man to plant the sprout of his highest hope.
Its soil is still rich enough for this. But this soil will someday be poor and barren, and not a single tall tree won't grow on it anymore.
Woe! The time is approaching when man will no longer shoot the arrow of his longing above man, and his bowstring will forget how to tremble!
I tell you: you need to carry more chaos in yourself in order to be able to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: there is still chaos in you.
Woe! The time is approaching when a man will not give birth more stars. Woe! The time of the most contemptible man is approaching, who can no longer despise himself.
Look! I show you last man .
"What is love? What is creation? Aspiration? What is a star? - so the last person asks and blinks.
The earth has become small, and the last man jumps on it, making everything small. His race is indestructible, like an earthen flea; the last person lives the longest.
They left the countries where it was cold to live: for they need warmth. They also love their neighbor and huddle close to him: for they need warmth.
To fall ill or to be distrustful is considered a sin with them: for they walk circumspectly. Some madmen still stumble over stones or people!
From time to time a little poison: it causes pleasant dreams. And in the end, more poison to die pleasantly.
They are still working, because work is entertainment. But they make sure that entertainment does not tire them.
There will be no more poor or rich: both are too troublesome. And who else would want to rule? And who will obey? Both are too troublesome.
There is no shepherd, only a flock! Everyone wants equality, everyone is equal: whoever feels differently, he voluntarily goes to a madhouse.
“Before the whole world was crazy,” say the most intelligent of them, and blink.
Everyone is smart and knows everything that happened; so you can laugh endlessly. They still quarrel, but soon make up - otherwise it would upset the stomach.
They have their pleasure for the day and their pleasure for the night; but health is above all.
“Happiness is found by us,” the last people say, and blink.
Here ended Zarathustra's first discourse, also called the Preface, for at this point it was interrupted by the shouting and joy of the crowd. “Give us this last man, O Zarathustra,” they exclaimed, “make us like these last people! And we will give you a superman!” And everyone rejoiced and clicked their tongues. But Zarathustra became sad and said in his heart:
“They do not understand me: my speeches are not for these ears.
Evidently I have lived too long on the mountain, I have listened too often to streams and trees: now I speak to them as to goatherds.
My soul is adamant and bright as the mountains in the hour before noon. But they think that I am cold and that I am laughing at terrible jokes.
And now they look at me and laugh, and while laughing, they still hate me. Ice in their laughter.
6
But then something happened that made everyone's mouth mute and their eyes fixed. For in the meantime the rope dancer began his work: he went out of a small door and walked along a rope stretched between two towers and hanging over the market square and the people. When he was in the middle of his path, the small door opened a second time, and the fellow, colorfully dressed like a buffoon, jumped out of it and quickly followed the first one. "Forward, lame-footed," he shouted to his scary voice- go ahead, lazy brute, smuggler, bleached face! See that I do not tickle you with my heel! What are you doing here between the towers? You left the tower; you should be locked up there, you are blocking the way for someone who is better than you! - And with every word he was getting closer to him - and when he was already at a distance of only one step from him, something terrible happened that made everyone's mouth mute and their eyes motionless: he let out a devilish cry and jumped over the one who blocked his path . But this one, seeing his rival overcome him, lost his head and rope; he threw his pole and himself, even faster than the pole, flew down, like some kind of whirlwind from arms and legs. The marketplace and the people were like the sea when a storm swept by: everything ran in confusion in different directions, for the most part where the body should have fallen.
But Zarathustra remained where he was, and a body fell right beside him, tattered and broken, but not yet dead. A little later consciousness returned to the wounded man, and he saw Zarathustra kneeling beside him. "What are you doing here? he said at last. “I knew for a long time that the devil would set his foot on me. Now he drags me to the underworld; don't you want to stop him?"
“By my honor, friend,” answered Zarathustra, “there is nothing that you speak of: there is neither the devil nor hell. Your soul will die sooner than your body: Don't be afraid of anything!"
The man looked at him in disbelief. “If you are telling the truth,” he said, “then in losing my life, I lose nothing. I am a little more than an animal that has been taught to dance with blows and from hand to mouth.
“Not quite so,” said Zarathustra, “you have made a trade for yourself out of danger, and for that you cannot despise. Now you are dying from your craft; for this I want to bury you with my own hands."
To these words of Zarathustra the dying man answered nothing; he only moved his hand, as if seeking, in gratitude, the hands of Zarathustra. -
7
In the meantime, evening had come, and the market-place had disappeared into darkness; then the people also scattered, for even curiosity and fear get tired. But Zarathustra continued to sit on the ground near the dead man and was immersed in his thoughts: thus he forgot about time. At last night came, and a cold wind blew on the lonely man. Then Zarathustra arose and said in his heart:
“Verily, Zarathustra had a fine catch today. He did not catch the man, but he did catch the corpse.
creepy human existence and besides, it is always meaningless: buffoonery can become his lot.
I want to teach people the meaning of their being: this meaning is the superman, the lightning from the dark cloud called man.
But I am still far from them, and my thought does not speak to their thoughts. For people, I'm still the middle ground between a madman and a corpse.
Dark is the night, dark are the ways of Zarathustra. Let's go, cold, motionless comrade! I carry you to where I will bury you with my own hands."
8
Having said this in his heart, Zarathustra took the corpse on his back and set off. But before he had gone even a hundred steps, a man crept up to him and began to whisper in his ear - and look, the one who spoke was a buffoon from the tower. “Get out of this city, O Zarathustra,” he said, “too many hate you here. The good and righteous hate you, and they call you their enemy and hater; the faithful hate you, and they call you dangerous to the crowd. Your happiness is that they laughed at you: and verily, you spoke like a buffoon. Your happiness is that you stuck to a dead dog; having humbled yourself thus, you have saved yourself for today. But get away from this city - or tomorrow I will jump over you, alive over the dead. And having said this, the man disappeared; and Zarathustra went on his way through the dark streets.
At the gates of the city he met the grave-diggers; they shone a torch in his face, recognized Zarathustra and mocked him a lot: “Zarathustra carries away a dead dog with him: bravo, Zarathustra has turned into a gravedigger! For our hands are too pure for this harvest. Wouldn't Zarathustra want to steal a piece of the devil from him? Well, so be it! We wish you a good dinner! Unless the devil is a more clever thief than Zarathustra! "He'll steal them both, he'll eat them both!" And they laughed and whispered among themselves.
Zarathustra did not say a word to this and went on his way. He walked for two hours through forests and swamps and very often heard the hungry howl of wolves; Finally, hunger came upon him. He stopped in front of a secluded house in which a light was on.
“Hunger attacks me like a robber,” said Zarathustra. - In the forests and swamps, my hunger attacks me even in the dead of night.
Amazing vagaries of my hunger. It often comes only after dinner, and today I have not felt it all day; where did he linger?
And with these elephants Zarathustra knocked at the door of the house. An old man appeared; he carried a lantern and asked: "Who comes to me and disturbs my bad sleep?"
"Alive and dead," replied Zarathustra. - Give me something to eat and drink; in the afternoon I forgot about it. He who feeds the hungry feeds his own soul: thus says wisdom.”
The old man left, but immediately returned and offered Zarathustra bread and wine. “This is a bad place for the hungry,” he said, “that's why I live here. Beast and man come to me, the hermit. But call your comrade to eat and drink, he is even more tired than you. Zarathustra replied: "My comrade is dead, it would be difficult to persuade him to eat." “That does not concern me,” the old man grumbled, “whoever knocks on my door must accept what I offer him. Eat and be healthy!” -
After that, Zarathustra walked for another two hours, trusting the road and the light of the stars: for he was a habitual nocturnal walker and loved to look everything sleeping in the face. But when it began to get light, Zarathustra found himself in a deep forest, and further the road was no longer visible. Then he put the dead man in a hollow tree at the height of his head - for he wanted to protect him from the wolves - and he himself lay down on the ground, on the moss. And immediately he fell asleep, tired in body, but with an inflexible soul.
9
Zarathustra slept long, and not only dawn but even the hour before noon passed over his face. But at last he opened his eyes: with surprise Zarathustra looked at the forest and silence, with surprise he looked inside himself. Then he quickly got up, like a navigator who suddenly sees the land, and rejoiced: for he saw a new truth. And thus he spoke then in his heart:
“A light has descended on me: I need companions, and living ones at that, not dead companions and not corpses that I carry with me wherever I want.
I need living companions who follow me, because they want to follow themselves - and where I want.
A light descended upon me: Zarathustra should not speak to the people, but to his companions! Zarathustra must not be a shepherd and a dog of the flock!
Lure many from the herd - for this I came. The people and the flock will be indignant at me: Zarathustra wants to be called a robber among the shepherds.
Shepherds, I say, but they call themselves good and righteous. Shepherds, I say, but they call themselves orthodox.
Look at the good and the righteous! Who do they hate the most? The one who breaks their tables of values, the destroyer, the criminal - but this is the creator.
Look at the faithful! Who do they hate the most? The one who breaks their tables of values, the destroyer, the criminal - but this is the creator.
The creator seeks companions, not corpses, and also not herds and non-believers. The creators, just like him, are looking for the creator, those who write new values on new tablets.
The creator is looking for companions and those who would reap the harvest with him: for everything is ripe with him for the harvest. But he lacks a hundred sickles; therefore he plucks out the ears and is indignant.
Companions are sought by the creator and those who know how to sharpen their sickles. They will be called destroyers and haters of the good and the evil. But they will reap the harvest and celebrate.
Zarathustra seeks those who build with him, those who harvest and celebrate with him Zarathustra seeks: what would he create with flocks, shepherds and corpses!
And you, my first companion, stay blessed! I buried you well in the hollow of a tree, I hid you well from the wolves.
But I part with you, for time has passed. From dawn to dawn a new truth dawned on me.
Neither a shepherd nor a grave-digger should I be. Never again will I speak to the people: last time I spoke to the dead.
To those who create, to those who reap, to those who triumph, I want to join: I want to show them the rainbow and all the steps of the superman.
Lonely will I sing my song to those who are alone together; and whoever has ears to hear the unheard, I want to burden his heart with my happiness.
I strive for my goal, I go my own way; I will jump over the slow and careless. May my tread be their ruin!”
10
Thus spoke Zarathustra in his heart, and the sun was already at noon; then he looked inquiringly at the sky: for he heard above him the sharp cry of a bird. And he saw an eagle: describing broad circles, he rushed into the air, and with him a snake, but not in the form of prey, but as a friend: for she wrapped her rings around his neck.
"These are my animals!" said Zarathustra and rejoiced in his heart.
“The proudest animal under the sun, and the most intelligent animal under the sun, they went to scout.
They want to know if Zarathustra is still alive. And truly, am I still alive?
It turned out to be more dangerous to be among people than among animals, Zarathustra walks in dangerous ways. Let my beasts guide me!"
Having said this, Zarathustra remembered the words of the saint in the forest, sighed and spoke thus in his heart:
“If only I could become wiser! If I could become completely wise, like my snake!
But I want the impossible; I will ask my pride to always go with my mind!
And if ever my mind leaves me - oh, it loves to fly away! - then let my pride fly away with my madness! -
Thus began the decline of Zarathustra.
