Page:Thus Spake Zarathustra - Thomas Common - 1917.djvu/309

 Now lightning-struck by you,

You mocking eye that me in darkness watches:

-Thus do I lie,

Bend myself, twist myself, convulsed

With all eternal torture,

And smitten

By you, cruel huntsman,

You unfamiliar- God...

Smite deeper!

Smite yet once more!

Pierce through and rend my heart!

What mean'th this torture

With dull, indented arrows?

Why look'st you hither,

Of human pain not weary,

With mischief-loving, godly flash-glances?

Not murder will you,

But torture, torture?

For why- me torture,

You mischief-loving, unfamiliar God?-

Ha! Ha!

You stealest nigh

In midnight's gloomy hour?...

What will you?

Speak!

You crowd me, pressest-

Ha! now far too closely!

You hearst me breathing,

You o'erhearst my heart,

You ever jealous one!