Ecce Homo Complete Works, Volume Seventeen · Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
TO THE DARWINIANS[4]
A fool this honest Britisher Was not ... But a Philosopher! As _that_ you really rate him? Set Darwin up by Goethe's side? But majesty you thus deride-- _Genii majestatem_! To HAFIZ (_Toast Question of a Water-Drinker_) What you have builded, yonder inn, O'ertops all houses high: The posset you have brewed therein The world will ne'er drink dry. The bird that once appeared on earth As phœnix, is your, guest. The mouse that gave a mountain birth Is you yourself confessed! You're all and naught, you're inn and wine, You're phœnix, mountain, mouse. Back to yourself to come you pine Or fly from out your house. Downward from every height you've sunk, And in the depths still shine: The drunkenness of all the drunk, Why do you ask for--wine? Of "All in One" a fervent devotee _Amore Dei,_ of reasoned piety, Doff shoes! A land thrice holy this must be!-- Yet underneath this love there sate A torch of vengeance, burning secretly The Hebrew God was gnawed by Hebrew hate. Hermit! Do I aright interpret thee? That which he taught, has had its day, That which he lived, shall live for aye: Look at the man! No bondsman he! Nor e'er to mortal bowed his knee! O You who chafe at every fetter's link, A restless spirit, never free: Who, though victorious aye, in bonds still cowered, Disgusted more and more, and flayed and scoured, Till from each cup of balm you poison drink, Alas! and by the Cross all helpless sink, You too, you too, among the overpowered!
For long I watched this play so weirdly shaped, Breathing an air of prison, vault, and dread, With churchly fragrance, clouds of incense spread, And yet I found all strange/in terror gaped. But now I throw my fool's cap o'er my head, For I escaped! All that my eagle e'er saw clear, I see and feel in heart to-day (Although my hope was wan and gray) Thy song like arrow pierced mine ear, A balm to touch, a balm to hear, As down from heaven it winged its way. So now for lands of southern fire To happy isles where Grecian nymphs hold sport! Thither now turn the ship's desire-- No ship e'er sped to fairer port. A riddle here--can you the answer scent? "When man discovers, woman must invent."---- You stole, your eye's not clear to-day. You only stole a thought, sir? nay, Why be so rudely modest, pray? Here, take another handful--stay, Take all I have, you swine--you may Eat till your filth is purged away. Be of good cheer, Friend Yorick! If this thought gives pain, As now it does, I fear, Is it not "God"? And though in error lain, 'Tis but your own dear child, Your flesh and blood, That tortures you and gives you pain, Your little rogue and do-no-good, See if the rod will change its mood!
In brief, friend Yorick, leave that drear Philosophy--and let me now Whisper one word as medicine, My own prescription, in your ear, My remedy against such spleen-- "Who loves his God, chastises him, I ween," I should be wise to suit my mood, Not at the beck of other men: God made as stupid as he could The world--well, let me praise him then. And if I make not straight my track, But, far as may be, wind and bend, That's how the sage begins his tack, And that is how the fool will--end. * * * * * The world stands never still, Night loves the glowing day-- Sweet sounds to ear "I will!" And sweeter still "I may!" Addressing me most bashfully, A woman to-day said this: "What would you be like in ecstasy, If sober you feel such bliss?" Laughter is a serious art. I would do it better daily. Did I well to-day or no? Came the spark right from the heart? Little use though head wag gaily, If the heart contain no glow. (1888) These are the songs of Zarathustra which he sang to himself so as to endure his last solitude.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.