Page:Thus Spake Zarathustra - Alexander Tille - 1896.djvu/147

 THE CHILD WITH THE LOOKING-GLASS 113

Too long have I yearned and looked into the dis- tance; too long hath solitude possessed me: thus I have got disaccustomed to silence.

Mouth I have become all over, and the brawling of a brook rushing from high rocks: I will hurl my speech into the valleys.

Let the stream of my love rush into what is pathless ! How should a stream not at last find its way into the ocean !

It is true, there is a lake within me, hermit-like, self-contented; but the stream of my love teareth it along into the ocean !

New paths I tread, a new speech cometh unto me ; like all creators I have grown weary of old tongues. My mind wisheth no more to walk on worn-out soles.

Too slowly all speech runneth for me. Into thy chariot, O storm, I leap. And even thee I will scourge with my malignity.

Like a cry and a shouting of triumph I shall rush over wide seas until I find the blissful islands where my friends dwell

And mine enemies among them ! How I now love everyone unto whom I may speak! Even mine enemies are part of my bliss.

And when I mount my wildest horse my spear always helpeth me best to get on its back; it is the ever ready servant of my foot.

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