A PRELUDE IN RHYME.
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm, Levy, Oscar, Cohn, Paul V. (Paul Victor), Common, Thomas, and Petre, Maude Dominica
1. Invitation. Venture, comrades, I implore you, On the fare I set before you, You will like it more to-morrow, Better still the following day: If yet more you're then requiring, Old success I'll find inspiring, And fresh courage thence will borrow Novel dainties to display.
2. My Good Luck. Weary of Seeking had I grown, So taught myself the way to Find: Back by the storm I once was blown, But follow now, where drives the wind.
3. Undismayed. Where you're standing, dig, dig out: Down below's the Well: Let them that walk in darkness shout: "Down below—there's Hell!"
4. Dialogue. A. Was I ill? and is it ended? Pray, by what physician tended? I recall no pain endured! B. Now I know your trouble's ended: He that can forget, is cured.
5. To the Virtuous. Let our virtues be easy and nimble-footed in motion, Like unto Homer's verse ought they to come and to go.
6. Worldly Wisdom. Stay not on level plain, Climb not the mount too high. But half-way up remain— The world you'll best descry!
7. Vademecum—Vadetecum. Attracted by my style and talk You'd follow, in my footsteps walk? Follow yourself unswervingly, So—careful!—shall you follow me.
8. The Third Sloughing My skin bursts, breaks for fresh rebirth, And new desires come thronging: Much I've devoured, yet for more earth The serpent in me's longing. 'Twixt stone and grass I crawl once more, Hungry, by crooked ways, To eat the food I ate before, Earth-fare all serpents praise!
9. My Roses. My luck's good—I'd make yours fairer, (Good luck ever needs a sharer), Will you stop and pluck my roses? Oft mid rocks and thorns you'll linger, Hide and stoop, suck bleeding finger— Will you stop and pluck my roses? For my good luck's a trifle vicious, Fond of teasing, tricks malicious— Will you stop and pluck my roses?
10. The Scorner. Many drops I waste and spill, So my scornful mood you curse: Who to brim his cup doth fill, Many drops must waste and spill— Yet he thinks the wine no worse.
11. The Proverb Speaks. Harsh and gentle, fine and mean, Quite rare and common, dirty and clean, The fools' and the sages' go-between: All this I will be, this have been, Dove and serpent and swine, I ween!
12. To a Lover of Light. That eye and sense be not fordone E'en in the shade pursue the sun!
13. For Dancers. Smoothest ice, A paradise To him who is a dancer nice.
14. The Brave Man. A feud that knows not flaw nor break, Rather then patched-up friendship, take.
15. Rust. Rust's needed: keenness will not satisfy! "He is too young!" the rabble loves to cry.
16. Excelsior. "How shall I reach the top?" No time For thus reflecting! Start to climb!
17. The Man of Power Speaks. Ask never! Cease that whining, pray! Take without asking, take alway!
18. Narrow Souls. Narrow souls hate I like the devil, Souls wherein grows nor good nor evil.
19. Accidentally a Seducer[1] He shot an empty word Into the empty blue; But on the way it met A woman whom it slew.
20. For Consideration. A twofold pain is easier far to bear Than one: so now to suffer wilt thou dare?
21. Against Pride. Brother, to puff thyself up ne'er be quick: For burst thou shalt be by a tiny prick!
22. Man and Woman. "The woman seize, who to thy heart appeals!" Man's motto: woman seizes not, but steals.
23. Interpretation. If I explain my wisdom, surely 'Tis but entangled more securely, I can't expound myself aright: But he that's boldly up and doing, His own unaided course pursuing, Upon my image casts more light!
24. A Cure for Pessimism. Those old capricious fancies, friend! You say your palate naught can please, I hear you bluster, spit and wheeze, My love, my patience soon will end! Pluck up your courage, follow me— Here's a fat toad! Now then, don't blink, Swallow it whole, nor pause to think! From your dyspepsia you'll be free!
25. A Request. Many men's minds I know full well, Yet what mine own is, cannot tell. I cannot see—my eye's too near— And falsely to myself appear. 'Twould be to me a benefit Far from myself if I could sit, Less distant than my enemy, And yet my nearest friend's too nigh— 'Twixt him and me, just in the middle! What do I ask for? Guess my riddle.
26. My Cruelty. I must ascend an hundred stairs, I must ascend: the herd declares I'm cruel: "Are we made of stone?" I must ascend an hundred stairs: All men the part of stair disown.
27. The Wanderer. "No longer path! Abyss and silence chilling!" Thy fault! To leave the path thou wast too willing! Now comes the test! Keep cool—eyes bright and clear! Thou'rt lost for sure, if thou permittest—fear.
28. Encouragement for Beginners. See the infant, helpless creeping— Swine around it grunt swine-talk— Weeping always, naught but weeping, Will it ever learn to walk? Never fear! Just wait, I swear it Soon to dance will be inclined, And this babe, when two legs bear it, Standing on its head you'll find.
29. Planet Egoism. Did I not turn, a rolling cask, Ever about myself, I ask, How could I without burning run Close on the track of the hot sun?
30. The Neighbour. Too nigh, my friend my joy doth mar, I'd have him high above and far, Or how can he become my star?
31. The Disguised Saint. Lest we for thy bliss should slay thee, In devil's wiles thou dost array thee, Devil's wit and devil's dress. But in vain! Thy looks betray thee And proclaim thy holiness.
32. The Slave. A. He stands and listens: whence his pain? What smote his ears? Some far refrain? Why is his heart with anguish torn? B. Like all that fetters once have worn, He always hears the clinking—chain!
33. The Lone One. I hate to follow and I hate to lead. Obedience? no! and ruling? no, indeed! Wouldst fearful be in others' sight? Then e'en thyself thou must affright: The people but the Terror's guidance heed. I hate to guide myself, I hate the fray. Like the wild beasts I'll wander far afield. In Error's pleasing toils I'll roam Awhile, then lure myself back home, Back home, and—to my self-seduction yield.
34. Seneca et hoc Genus omne. They write and write (quite maddening me) Their "sapient" twaddle airy, As if 'twere primum scribere, Deinde philosophari.
35. Ice. Yes! I manufacture ice: Ice may help you to digest: If you had much to digest, How you would enjoy my ice!
36. Youthful Writings. My wisdom's A and final O Was then the sound that smote mine ear. Yet now it rings no longer so, My youth's eternal Ah! and Oh! Is now the only sound I hear.[2]
37. Foresight. In yonder region travelling, take good care! An hast thou wit, then be thou doubly ware! They'll smile and lure thee; then thy limbs they'll tear: Fanatics' country this where wits are rare!
38. The Pious One Speaks. God loves us, for he made us, sent us here!— "Man hath made God!" ye subtle ones reply. His handiwork he must hold dear, And what he made shall he deny? There sounds the devil's halting hoof, I fear.
39. In Summer. In sweat of face, so runs the screed, We e'er must eat our bread, Yet wise physicians if we heed "Eat naught in sweat," 'tis said. The dog-star's blinking: what's his need? What tells his blazing sign? In sweat of face (so runs his screed) We're meant to drink our wine!
40. Without Envy. His look betrays no envy: and ye laud him? He cares not, asks not if your throng applaud him! He has the eagle's eye for distance far, He sees you not, he sees but star on star!