Ecce Homo Complete Works, Volume Seventeen · Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
THE WANDERER[3]
All through the night a wanderer walks Sturdy of stride, With winding vale and sloping height E'er at his side. Fair is the night: On, on he strides, nor slackens speed, And knows not where his path will lead. A bird's song in the night is heard, "Ah me, what hast thou done, O bird, How dost thou grip my sense and feet And pourest heart-vexation sweet Into mine ear--I must remain, To hearken fain: Why lure me with inviting strain?" The good bird speaks, staying his song: "I lure not thee,--no, thou art wrong-- With these my trills I lure my mate from off the hills-- Nor heed thy plight. To me alone the night's not fair. What's that to thee? Forth must thou fare, On, onward ever, resting ne'er. Why stand'st thou now? What has my piping done to thee, Thou roaming wight?" The good bird pondered, silent quite, "Why doth my piping change his plight? Why stands he now, That luckless, luckless, roaming wight?"
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.