An Excerpt from Friedrich Nietzsche's 'Thus Spake Zarathustra'

Disclaimer – The following Excerpt has been taken from Friedrich Nietzsche’s sublime magnum opus. The original work is in German, translated into English by Walter Kauffman. Since this book is poetic and rhetoric, translation becomes an important matter. What I present here is my version of this excerpt, with which I have taken full liberties in omitting, editing and even adding a few words, to a version which contains the most spirit for me. The Excerpt is taken from the essay – ‘Of Reading and Writing’.

Of all writings, I love only that written in Blood.

One can’t comprehend blood which is unfamiliar, you, the idle reader.

For to know the reader you write for, stinks thy spirit. That in the long run, everyone will learn to read shall ruin writing, nay, but thinking.

I don’t write to be read, I write to be felt. For what I give in blood, shall be understood in blood.

In the Mountains, the shortest route is between peaks, but then, you must have long legs.

The mountain air is cold and thin, danger lurks each moment, yet courage laughs.

The clouds are black under me, and hence I laugh.

For only those who can laugh can climb the highest. Laugh at what’s real, and what’s not.

And the warrior shall reach the top, for wisdom is a woman, favors the best of men.

“Life is hard to bear” – But if it weren’t, would pride exist? Could one enjoy sleep?

“Life is hard to bear” – Says the tender finery in Sheep, tis finer to be the noble ass.

Are we rosebuds? which drop from drops of dew?

Do we love life, because we love living? Or because we love loving?

Love is madness, and there’s a method in madness.

Life is not a song of butterflies and soap-bubbles for which it’s loved.

There exists a devil, much like your God- Serious, solemn and profound. It is Gravity.

And my god is your devil, for my god knows how to laugh, and how to dance.

For one does not kill the devil from anger, but with laughter- Come, warrior, Slay the devil with me!

I learned to walk, now I run. Come, let’s learn to fly.

Only when I fly could I see myself under myself, and a god dancing within me. 

Thus Spake Zarathustra