查拉图斯特拉如是说 英文版 Thus Spake Zarathustra
尼采 Friedrich Nietzsche
XXVIII. The Rabble.
Life is a well of delight; but where the rabble also drink, there allfountains are poisoned.
To everything cleanly am I well disposed; but I hate to see the grinningmouths and the thirst of the unclean.
They cast their eye down into the fountain: and now glanceth up to metheir odious smile out of the fountain.
The holy water have they poisoned with their lustfulness; and when theycalled their filthy dreams delight, then poisoned they also the words.
Indignant becometh the flame when they put their damp hearts to the fire;the spirit itself bubbleth and smoketh when the rabble approach the fire.
Mawkish and over-mellow becometh the fruit in their hands: unsteady, andwithered at the top, doth their look make the fruit-tree.
And many a one who hath turned away from life, hath only turned away fromthe rabble: he hated to share with them fountain, flame, and fruit.
And many a one who hath gone into the wilderness and suffered thirst withbeasts of prey, disliked only to sit at the cistern with filthy camel-drivers.
And many a one who hath come along as a destroyer, and as a hailstorm toall cornfields, wanted merely to put his foot into the jaws of the rabble,and thus stop their throat.
And it is not the mouthful which hath most choked me, to know that lifeitself requireth enmity and death and torture-crosses:--
But I asked once, and suffocated almost with my question: What? is therabble also NECESSARY for life?
Are poisoned fountains necessary, and stinking fires, and filthy dreams,and maggots in the bread of life?
Not my hatred, but my loathing, gnawed hungrily at my life! Ah, ofttimesbecame I weary of spirit, when I found even the rabble spiritual!
And on the rulers turned I my back, when I saw what they now call ruling:to traffic and bargain for power--with the rabble!
Amongst peoples of a strange language did I dwell, with stopped ears: sothat the language of their trafficking might remain strange unto me, andtheir bargaining for power.
And holding my nose, I went morosely through all yesterdays and to-days:verily, badly smell all yesterdays and to-days of the scribbling rabble!
Like a cripple become deaf, and blind, and dumb--thus have I lived long;that I might not live with the power-rabble, the scribe-rabble, and thepleasure-rabble.
Toilsomely did my spirit mount stairs, and cautiously; alms of delight wereits refreshment; on the staff did life creep along with the blind one.
What hath happened unto me? How have I freed myself from loathing? Whohath rejuvenated mine eye? How have I flown to the height where no rabbleany longer sit at the wells?
Did my loathing itself create for me wings and fountain-divining powers?Verily, to the loftiest height had I to fly, to find again the well ofdelight!
Oh, I have found it, my brethren! Here on the loftiest height bubbleth upfor me the well of delight! And there is a life at whose waters none ofthe rabble drink with me!
Almost too violently dost thou flow for me, thou fountain of delight! Andoften emptiest thou the goblet again, in wanting to fill it!
And yet must I learn to approach thee more modestly: far too violentlydoth my heart still flow towards thee:--
My heart on which my summer burneth, my short, hot, melancholy, over-happysummer: how my summer heart longeth for thy coolness!
Past, the lingering distress of my spring! Past, the wickedness of mysnowflakes in June! Summer have I become entirely, and summer-noontide!
A summer on the loftiest height, with cold fountains and blissfulstillness: oh, come, my friends, that the stillness may become moreblissful!
For this is OUR height and our home: too high and steep do we here dwellfor all uncleanly ones and their thirst.
Cast but your pure eyes into the well of my delight, my friends! How couldit become turbid thereby! It shall laugh back to you with ITS purity.
On the tree of the future build we our nest; eagles shall bring us loneones food in their beaks!
Verily, no food of which the impure could be fellow-partakers! Fire, wouldthey think they devoured, and burn their mouths!
Verily, no abodes do we here keep ready for the impure! An ice-cave totheir bodies would our happiness be, and to their spirits!
And as strong winds will we live above them, neighbours to the eagles,neighbours to the snow, neighbours to the sun: thus live the strong winds.
And like a wind will I one day blow amongst them, and with my spirit, takethe breath from their spirit: thus willeth my future.
Verily, a strong wind is Zarathustra to all low places; and this counselcounselleth he to his enemies, and to whatever spitteth and speweth: "Takecare not to spit AGAINST the wind!"--
Thus spake Zarathustra.