The Mob

Life is a well of delight; but where the rabble also drink, there all fountains are poisoned.

Life is a source of joy. But wherever the rabble drink, all fountains are poisoned.

To everything cleanly am I well disposed; but I hate to see the grinning mouths and the thirst of the unclean.

I welcome everything clean, but I hate seeing the grinning mouths and the thirst of the unclean.

They cast their eye down into the fountain: and now glanceth up to me their odious smile out of the fountain.

They looked down into the fountain. Now their hateful smile looks up at me from the water.

The holy water have they poisoned with their lustfulness; and when they called their filthy dreams delight, then poisoned they also the words.

They have poisoned the holy water with their lust. And when they called their filthy dreams delight, they poisoned the words too.

Indignant becometh the flame when they put their damp hearts to the fire; the spirit itself bubbleth and smoketh when the rabble approach the fire.

The flame grows angry when they put their damp hearts near the fire. The spirit itself bubbles and smokes when the rabble approach the fire.

Mawkish and over-mellow becometh the fruit in their hands: unsteady, and withered at the top, doth their look make the fruit-tree.

The fruit turns sickly sweet and overripe in their hands. Their gaze makes the fruit tree unsteady and withered at the top.

And many a one who hath turned away from life, hath only turned away from the rabble: he hated to share with them fountain, flame, and fruit.

Many who have turned away from life have only turned away from the crowd. They hated sharing water, fire, and fruit with the crowd.

And many a one who hath gone into the wilderness and suffered thirst with beasts of prey, disliked only to sit at the cistern with filthy camel-drivers.

And many have gone into the wilderness and suffered thirst among wild beasts, simply because they disliked sitting by the cistern with filthy camel drivers.

And many a one who hath come along as a destroyer, and as a hailstorm to all cornfields, wanted merely to put his foot into the jaws of the rabble, and thus stop their throat.

Many who came as destroyers, like hailstorms over all the grain fields, wanted only to silence the mob. They wanted to do it by putting a foot in its mouth.

And it is not the mouthful which hath most choked me, to know that life itself requireth enmity and death and torture-crosses:—

And knowing that life itself requires hostility, death, and torture crosses is not the hardest thing for me to swallow:

But I asked once, and suffocated almost with my question: What? is the rabble also NECESSARY for life?

But I once asked a question that almost suffocated me: What? Is the rabble also NECESSARY for life?

Are poisoned fountains necessary, and stinking fires, and filthy dreams, and maggots in the bread of life?

Are poisoned springs, stinking fires, filthy dreams, and maggots in the bread of life necessary?

Not my hatred, but my loathing, gnawed hungrily at my life! Ah, ofttimes became I weary of spirit, when I found even the rabble spiritual!

It was not my hatred but my loathing that hungrily gnawed at my life! Ah, my spirit often grew weary when I found that even the rabble was spiritual!

And on the rulers turned I my back, when I saw what they now call ruling: to traffic and bargain for power—with the rabble!

I turned my back on the rulers when I saw what they now call ruling: bargaining for power with the rabble!

Amongst peoples of a strange language did I dwell, with stopped ears: so that the language of their trafficking might remain strange unto me, and their bargaining for power.

I lived among people who spoke a strange language, with my ears closed. I did this so that the language of their trading and their bargaining for power would remain strange to me.

And holding my nose, I went morosely through all yesterdays and to-days: verily, badly smell all yesterdays and to-days of the scribbling rabble!

Holding my nose, I trudged gloomily through all the yesterdays and todays. Truly, all the yesterdays and todays of the scribbling rabble stink!

Like a cripple become deaf, and blind, and dumb—thus have I lived long; that I might not live with the power-rabble, the scribe-rabble, and the pleasure-rabble.

For a long time, I have lived like a cripple who has become deaf, blind, and mute. I lived this way so I would not have to live among the power-rabble, the scribe-rabble, and the pleasure-rabble.

Toilsomely did my spirit mount stairs, and cautiously; alms of delight were its refreshment; on the staff did life creep along with the blind one.

My spirit climbed the stairs laboriously and cautiously. It was refreshed by scraps of delight given as charity. Life crept along on a staff with the blind one.

What hath happened unto me? How have I freed myself from loathing? Who hath rejuvenated mine eye? How have I flown to the height where no rabble any longer sit at the wells?

What has happened to me? How have I freed myself from loathing? Who has made my eyes young again? How have I flown so high that the rabble no longer sit at the wells?

Did my loathing itself create for me wings and fountain-divining powers? Verily, to the loftiest height had I to fly, to find again the well of delight!

Did my loathing itself give me wings and the power to find springs? Truly, I had to fly to the greatest height to find the well of delight again!

Oh, I have found it, my brethren! Here on the loftiest height bubbleth up for me the well of delight! And there is a life at whose waters none of the rabble drink with me!

Oh, I have found it, my brothers! Here on the highest peak, the spring of delight bubbles up for me! And there is a life whose waters none of the rabble drink with me!

Almost too violently dost thou flow for me, thou fountain of delight! And often emptiest thou the goblet again, in wanting to fill it!

You flow almost too violently for me, fountain of delight! And often, in trying to fill the goblet, you empty it again!

And yet must I learn to approach thee more modestly: far too violently doth my heart still flow towards thee:—

And yet I must learn to approach you more modestly. My heart still flows toward you far too violently.

My heart on which my summer burneth, my short, hot, melancholy, over-happy summer: how my summer heart longeth for thy coolness!

My summer burns in my heart, my short, hot, melancholy, overjoyed summer. How my summer heart longs for your coolness!

Past, the lingering distress of my spring! Past, the wickedness of my snowflakes in June! Summer have I become entirely, and summer-noontide!

Gone is the lingering distress of my spring! Gone is the wickedness of my snowflakes in June! I have become entirely summer, summer at noon!

A summer on the loftiest height, with cold fountains and blissful stillness: oh, come, my friends, that the stillness may become more blissful!

A summer on the highest peak, with cold springs and blissful silence. Oh, come, my friends, so that the silence may be even more blissful!

For this is OUR height and our home: too high and steep do we here dwell for all uncleanly ones and their thirst.

For this is OUR height and our home. We live too high up, on slopes too steep for all the unclean and their thirst.

Cast but your pure eyes into the well of my delight, my friends! How could it become turbid thereby! It shall laugh back to you with ITS purity.

Look into the well of my delight with your pure eyes, my friends! How could your gaze cloud the well? It will laugh back at you with its own purity.

On the tree of the future build we our nest; eagles shall bring us lone ones food in their beaks!

We build our nest in the tree of the future. Eagles will bring food in their beaks to us lonely ones!

Verily, no food of which the impure could be fellow-partakers! Fire, would they think they devoured, and burn their mouths!

Truly, this is no food that the impure could share! They would think they were eating fire, and burn their mouths!

Verily, no abodes do we here keep ready for the impure! An ice-cave to their bodies would our happiness be, and to their spirits!

Indeed, we have no homes ready here for the impure! Our happiness would be like an ice cave to their bodies and spirits!

And as strong winds will we live above them, neighbours to the eagles, neighbours to the snow, neighbours to the sun: thus live the strong winds.

And like strong winds, we will live above them, neighbors to the eagles, the snow, and the sun. That is how strong winds live.

And like a wind will I one day blow amongst them, and with my spirit, take the breath from their spirit: thus willeth my future.

And one day I will blow among them like a wind. With my spirit, I will take the breath from their spirit. This is what my future wills.

Verily, a strong wind is Zarathustra to all low places; and this counsel counselleth he to his enemies, and to whatever spitteth and speweth: “Take care not to spit AGAINST the wind!”—

Truly, Zarathustra is a strong wind to all low places. He gives this advice to his enemies and to whatever spits and spews: “Take care not to spit AGAINST the wind!”

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.