The Compassionate

My friends, there hath arisen a satire on your friend: “Behold Zarathustra! Walketh he not amongst us as if amongst animals?”

My friends, a satire about your friend has appeared: “Look at Zarathustra! Doesn’t he walk among us as if we were animals?”

But it is better said in this wise: “The discerning one walketh amongst men AS amongst animals.”

But it is better said this way: “The discerning person walks among people AS among animals.”

Man himself is to the discerning one: the animal with red cheeks.

To a discerning person, man himself is the animal with red cheeks.

How hath that happened unto him? Is it not because he hath had to be ashamed too oft?

How did that happen to him? Was it not because he had to feel ashamed too often?

O my friends! Thus speaketh the discerning one: shame, shame, shame—that is the history of man!

My friends! This is what the perceptive person says: Shame, shame, shame. That is the history of humanity!

And on that account doth the noble one enjoin upon himself not to abash: bashfulness doth he enjoin on himself in presence of all sufferers.

For that reason, the noble person makes it a rule not to embarrass others. He makes it a rule to be modest in the presence of all who suffer.

Verily, I like them not, the merciful ones, whose bliss is in their pity: too destitute are they of bashfulness.

Indeed, I dislike the merciful who delight in their own pity. They have far too little sense of shame.

If I must be pitiful, I dislike to be called so; and if I be so, it is preferably at a distance.

If I must feel pity, I dislike being called compassionate. And if I do feel pity, I prefer to do so from a distance.

Preferably also do I shroud my head, and flee, before being recognised: and thus do I bid you do, my friends!

I also prefer to cover my head and flee before anyone recognizes me. And I urge you to do the same, my friends!

May my destiny ever lead unafflicted ones like you across my path, and those with whom I MAY have hope and repast and honey in common!

May fate always bring people free from suffering like you across my path, people with whom I MAY share hope, food, and honey!

Verily, I have done this and that for the afflicted: but something better did I always seem to do when I had learned to enjoy myself better.

Indeed, I have done various things for those who suffer. But I always seemed to do something better when I learned to enjoy myself more.

Since humanity came into being, man hath enjoyed himself too little: that alone, my brethren, is our original sin!

Since humanity began, people have enjoyed themselves too little. That alone, my brothers, is our original sin!

And when we learn better to enjoy ourselves, then do we unlearn best to give pain unto others, and to contrive pain.

And when we learn to enjoy ourselves more, we are best able to unlearn the habit of causing and devising pain for others.

Therefore do I wash the hand that hath helped the sufferer; therefore do I wipe also my soul.

That is why I wash the hand that helped the sufferer. That is also why I wipe my soul.

For in seeing the sufferer suffering—thereof was I ashamed on account of his shame; and in helping him, sorely did I wound his pride.

For when I saw someone suffer, I felt ashamed because he was ashamed. And when I helped him, I deeply wounded his pride.

Great obligations do not make grateful, but revengeful; and when a small kindness is not forgotten, it becometh a gnawing worm.

Great obligations do not make people grateful. They make people want revenge. And when a small kindness is not forgotten, it becomes a gnawing worm.

“Be shy in accepting! Distinguish by accepting!”—thus do I advise those who have naught to bestow.

“Be modest when accepting gifts! Honor the giver by accepting!” This is my advice to those who have nothing to give.

I, however, am a bestower: willingly do I bestow as friend to friends. Strangers, however, and the poor, may pluck for themselves the fruit from my tree: thus doth it cause less shame.

I, however, am a giver. I gladly give as a friend to friends. But strangers and the poor may pick the fruit from my tree themselves. That way, they feel less shame.

Beggars, however, one should entirely do away with! Verily, it annoyeth one to give unto them, and it annoyeth one not to give unto them.

But beggars should be done away with entirely! Truly, it is annoying to give to them, and annoying not to give.

And likewise sinners and bad consciences! Believe me, my friends: the sting of conscience teacheth one to sting.

And the same goes for sinners and guilty consciences! Believe me, my friends: the sting of conscience teaches you to sting.

The worst things, however, are the petty thoughts. Verily, better to have done evilly than to have thought pettily!

But the worst things are petty thoughts. Truly, it is better to have done evil than to have thought petty thoughts!

To be sure, ye say: “The delight in petty evils spareth one many a great evil deed.” But here one should not wish to be sparing.

Of course, you say: “Taking pleasure in small evils spares you many a great evil deed.” But here you should not want to spare yourself.

Like a boil is the evil deed: it itcheth and irritateth and breaketh forth—it speaketh honourably.

An evil deed is like a boil: it itches, irritates, and breaks open. It speaks honestly.

“Behold, I am disease,” saith the evil deed: that is its honourableness.

“Look, I am a disease,” says the evil deed. That is what makes it honorable.

But like infection is the petty thought: it creepeth and hideth, and wanteth to be nowhere—until the whole body is decayed and withered by the petty infection.

But a petty thought is like an infection. It creeps and hides, wanting to be nowhere, until the whole body has decayed and withered from the petty infection.

To him however, who is possessed of a devil, I would whisper this word in the ear: “Better for thee to rear up thy devil! Even for thee there is still a path to greatness!”—

But to someone possessed by a devil, I would whisper: “You would do better to raise your devil! Even you still have a path to greatness!”

Ah, my brethren! One knoweth a little too much about every one! And many a one becometh transparent to us, but still we can by no means penetrate him.

Ah, my brothers! We know a little too much about everyone! Many people become transparent to us, but we still cannot understand them deeply.

It is difficult to live among men because silence is so difficult.

It is hard to live among people because it is so hard to stay silent.

And not to him who is offensive to us are we most unfair, but to him who doth not concern us at all.

We are not most unfair to those who offend us, but to those who do not concern us at all.

If, however, thou hast a suffering friend, then be a resting-place for his suffering; like a hard bed, however, a camp-bed: thus wilt thou serve him best.

If you have a suffering friend, be a resting place for their suffering. But be like a hard bed, a camp bed. That is how you will serve your friend best.

And if a friend doeth thee wrong, then say: “I forgive thee what thou hast done unto me; that thou hast done it unto THYSELF, however—how could I forgive that!”

And if a friend wrongs you, say: “I forgive you for what you did to me. But how could I forgive you for what you did to YOURSELF!”

Thus speaketh all great love: it surpasseth even forgiveness and pity.

This is what all great love says: it goes beyond even forgiveness and pity.

One should hold fast one’s heart; for when one letteth it go, how quickly doth one’s head run away!

Hold on to your heart. For when you let it go, how quickly your head runs away!

Ah, where in the world have there been greater follies than with the pitiful? And what in the world hath caused more suffering than the follies of the pitiful?

Ah, where in the world has there been greater foolishness than among those who feel pity? And what in the world has caused more suffering than their foolishness?

Woe unto all loving ones who have not an elevation which is above their pity!

Woe to all who love but have nothing higher than their pity!

Thus spake the devil unto me, once on a time: “Even God hath his hell: it is his love for man.”

Once, the devil said to me: “Even God has his hell: it is his love for humanity.”

And lately, did I hear him say these words: “God is dead: of his pity for man hath God died.”—

And recently, I heard him say: “God is dead. God died from his pity for humanity.”

So be ye warned against pity: FROM THENCE there yet cometh unto men a heavy cloud! Verily, I understand weather-signs!

So be warned against pity: FROM IT a heavy cloud will yet come upon humanity! Truly, I know the signs of the weather!

But attend also to this word: All great love is above all its pity: for it seeketh—to create what is loved!

But also pay attention to this: All great love rises above its pity, because it seeks to create what it loves!

“Myself do I offer unto my love, AND MY NEIGHBOUR AS MYSELF”—such is the language of all creators.

“I offer myself to my love, AND MY NEIGHBOR AS MYSELF.” This is how all creators speak.

All creators, however, are hard.—

But all creators are hard.

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.