Page:Thus Spake Zarathustra - Alexander Tille - 1896.djvu/180

 THE NIGHT-SONG

"Night it is: now talk louder all springing wells. And my soul is a springing well.

Night it is : only now all songs of the loving awake. And my soul is the song of a loving one.

Something never stilled, something never to be stilled is within me. It longeth to give forth sound. A longing for love is within me, that itself speaketh the language of love.

Light I am : would that I were night ! But it is my loneliness, to be girded round by light.

Oh, that I were dark and like the night! How would I suck at the breasts of light !

And I would bless even you, ye small, sparkling stars and glow-worms on high, and be blessed by your gifts of light!

But in mine own light I live, back into myself I drink the flames that break forth from me.

I know not the happiness of the receiver. And often I dreamt that stealing was needs much sweeter than receiving.

It is my poverty that my hand never resteth from giving; it is mine envy that I see waiting eyes and the illuminated nights of longing.

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