Page:Thus Spake Zarathustra - Alexander Tille - 1896.djvu/102

 68 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, I

all over by poisonous flies. Fly where the rough, strong wind bloweth!

Fly into thy loneliness ! Thou hast lived too close unto the small and miserable. Fly from their invisible revenge ! Against thee they are nothing but revenge.

Lift no more thine arm against them ! Innumer- able are they; neither is it thy lot to be a fly-brush.

Innumerable are these small and miserable ones ; and many a proud building the raindrops and weeds have destroyed.

Thou art not a stone, but already thou hast been hollowed out by the many drops. Under the many drops thou wilt break into pieces and burst asunder.

I see thee wearied by poisonous flies and blood drawn at a hundred spots ; and thy pride will not even be angry.

In all innocence they seek to draw blood from thee, their bloodless souls crave for blood and therefore in all innocence they sting.

But thou deep one, thou sufferest too greatly, even from small wounds ; and ere thou art healed, the same poisonous worm creepeth over thy hand.

Thou art, I know, too proud to kill these dainty- mouthed. But take care that it be not thy fate to endure all their poisonous wrong.

They also hum round thee with their praise : their praise is impudence. They seek to have nigh unto them thy skin and thy blood.

�� �