Dionysian Dithyrambs

"I would believe only in a god who could dance."

—Friedrich Nietzsche, "Thus Spake Zarathustra."

Excerpt from Nietzsche's "Dionysus-Dithyrambs":

Only Fool! Only Poet!

In the fading light of dusk,

When the dew's solace begins

To well down to the earth,

Invisible, as well as unheard —

For the comforter dew slips on

Delicate footwear as all gentle consolers —

Then do you remember, remember, hot heart,

How once you thirsted

After heavenly tears and dewdrops,

Scorched and weary, thirsting,

While on yellow paths of grass

The spiteful evening glances of the sun

Ran around you through black trees,

Glowing sun-glances, dazzling with malicious delight.

"The suitor of truth—you?"—thus they mocked me —

"No! Only a poet!

A cunning, plundering, stealthy beast,

That must lie,

That knowingly, willingly must lie,

Lusting after prey,

Colorfully masked,

Self-shrouded,

Prey for itself

This—the suitor of truth? ...

Only fool! Only poet!

Merely speaking colorfully,

From fools' masks shouting colorfully,

Climbing about on deceptive word-bridges,

On misleading rainbows,

Between false heavens

Rambling, lurking —

Only fool! Only poet!

This—the suitor of truth? ...

Not still, stiff, smooth, cold,

Become an image,

A pillar of God,

Not set up before temples,

A god's gatekeeper:

No! hostile to all such truth statues,

More at home in any desert than in temples,

Fraught with cats' mischief,

Leaping through every window

Swiftly! into every chance,

Sniffing for every jungle,

That you in jungles

Among motley-shagged beasts of prey

Would run sinfully sound and beautiful and colorful,

With lusting animal lips,

Blissfully sneering, blissfully hellish, blissfully bloodthirsty,

Plundering, prowling, lying would run ...

Or like the eagle that, for a long time,

A long time gazes with a fixed stare into abysses,

Into its abysses ...

— Oh how they spiral downward,

Down, down under,

Into ever deeper depths! —

Then,

Suddenly,

Plummeting straight down

Wings pulled out

To pounce on lambs,

Right down, hot-hungry,

Lusting for lambs,

Hating all lamb-souls,

Grimly hating whatever looks

Virtuous, sheepish, curly-wooled,

Dull, with lambs' milk-goodwill ...

Thus

Eagle-like, panther-like,

Are the poet's longings,

Are your longings under a thousand masks,

You fool! You poet! ...

You that have looked upon man

As god and as sheep —

Tearing to pieces the god in man

As well as the sheep in man,

And laughing while tearing —

This, this is your bliss,

A panther's and eagle's bliss,

A poet's and fool's bliss!" ...

In the fading light of dusk,

When just as the moon's sickle

In between green and crimson-reds

Enviously creeps —

The day's enemy,

With every stealthy step

At rose hammocks

Scything, till they sink,

Sink down pale in nightfall:

Thus I myself once sank,

Out of my truth-madness,

Out of my day-longings,

Weary of day, sick from the light —

Sank downward, eveningward, shadowward,

By one truth

Burnt and thirsty —

Do you still remember, remember, hot heart,

How you thirsted then? —

That I be exiled

From all truth!

Only fool! Only poet! ...