Those Who Despise the Body

To the despisers of the body will I speak my word. I wish them neither to learn afresh, nor teach anew, but only to bid farewell to their own bodies,—and thus be dumb.

I have a word for those who despise the body. I want them neither to learn again nor to teach again. I want them only to say goodbye to their own bodies and thus fall silent.

“Body am I, and soul”—so saith the child. And why should one not speak like children?

“I am body and soul,” says the child. And why shouldn't we speak like children?

But the awakened one, the knowing one, saith: “Body am I entirely, and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body.”

But the awakened person, the one who knows, says: “I am entirely body, and nothing more. The soul is only a name for something in the body.”

The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.

The body is a great wisdom, a many with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.

An instrument of thy body is also thy little sagacity, my brother, which thou callest “spirit”—a little instrument and plaything of thy big sagacity.

Your little wisdom, my brother, is also an instrument of your body. You call it “spirit”. It is a little instrument and plaything of your great wisdom.

“Ego,” sayest thou, and art proud of that word. But the greater thing—in which thou art unwilling to believe—is thy body with its big sagacity; it saith not “ego,” but doeth it.

You say “ego” and are proud of that word. But there is something greater, though you are unwilling to believe it: your body, with its great wisdom. The body does not say “ego.” It acts as ego.

What the sense feeleth, what the spirit discerneth, hath never its end in itself. But sense and spirit would fain persuade thee that they are the end of all things: so vain are they.

What the senses feel and what the spirit perceives are never ends in themselves. But the senses and the spirit want to persuade you that they are the end of all things. They are that vain.

Instruments and playthings are sense and spirit: behind them there is still the Self. The Self seeketh with the eyes of the senses, it hearkeneth also with the ears of the spirit.

The senses and the spirit are tools and playthings. Behind them is the Self. The Self searches with the eyes of the senses. It also listens with the ears of the spirit.

Ever hearkeneth the Self, and seeketh; it compareth, mastereth, conquereth, and destroyeth. It ruleth, and is also the ego’s ruler.

The Self is always listening and seeking. It compares, masters, conquers, and destroys. It rules, and it also rules the ego.

Behind thy thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, an unknown sage—it is called Self; it dwelleth in thy body, it is thy body.

Behind your thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a mighty lord, an unknown sage. It is called the Self. It lives in your body. It is your body.

There is more sagacity in thy body than in thy best wisdom. And who then knoweth why thy body requireth just thy best wisdom?

Your body has more wisdom than your wisest thoughts. And who knows why your body needs precisely your best wisdom?

Thy Self laugheth at thine ego, and its proud prancings. “What are these prancings and flights of thought unto me?” it saith to itself. “A by-way to my purpose. I am the leading-string of the ego, and the prompter of its notions.”

Your Self laughs at your ego and its proud prancing. “What do these prancings and flights of thought mean to me?” it says to itself. “A roundabout path to my purpose. I lead the ego by a string and prompt its ideas.”

The Self saith unto the ego: “Feel pain!” And thereupon it suffereth, and thinketh how it may put an end thereto—and for that very purpose it IS MEANT to think.

The Self says to the ego: “Feel pain!” The ego then suffers and thinks about how to end the pain. That is the very purpose for which it IS MEANT to think.

The Self saith unto the ego: “Feel pleasure!” Thereupon it rejoiceth, and thinketh how it may ofttimes rejoice—and for that very purpose it IS MEANT to think.

The Self says to the ego: “Feel pleasure!” The ego then rejoices and thinks about how it can rejoice often. That is the very purpose for which it IS MEANT to think.

To the despisers of the body will I speak a word. That they despise is caused by their esteem. What is it that created esteeming and despising and worth and will?

I have a word for those who despise the body. They despise it because they value it. What created valuing and despising, worth and will?

The creating Self created for itself esteeming and despising, it created for itself joy and woe. The creating body created for itself spirit, as a hand to its will.

The creating Self created its own values and dislikes. It created its own joy and sorrow. The creating body created spirit to serve its will, like a hand.

Even in your folly and despising ye each serve your Self, ye despisers of the body. I tell you, your very Self wanteth to die, and turneth away from life.

Even in your foolishness and contempt, each of you serves your Self, you who despise the body. I tell you, your very Self wants to die and turns away from life.

No longer can your Self do that which it desireth most:—create beyond itself. That is what it desireth most; that is all its fervour.

Your Self can no longer do what it desires most: create beyond itself. That is its deepest desire, its whole passion.

But it is now too late to do so:—so your Self wisheth to succumb, ye despisers of the body.

But it is too late to do so now. So your Self wants to perish, you who despise the body.

To succumb—so wisheth your Self; and therefore have ye become despisers of the body. For ye can no longer create beyond yourselves.

Your Self wants to succumb, and that is why you have come to despise the body. For you can no longer create beyond yourselves.

And therefore are ye now angry with life and with the earth. And unconscious envy is in the sidelong look of your contempt.

And so you are now angry with life and the earth. And unconscious envy shows in the sideways glance of your contempt.

I go not your way, ye despisers of the body! Ye are no bridges for me to the Superman!—

I do not follow your path, you who despise the body! You are no bridges for me to the Superman!

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.