The Famous Wise Men

The people have ye served and the people’s superstition—NOT the truth!—all ye famous wise ones! And just on that account did they pay you reverence.

All of you famous wise ones have served the people and their superstition, NOT the truth! That is exactly why the people revered you.

And on that account also did they tolerate your unbelief, because it was a pleasantry and a by-path for the people. Thus doth the master give free scope to his slaves, and even enjoyeth their presumptuousness.

And that is also why they tolerated your unbelief. It was an amusement and a diversion for the people. In the same way, a master gives his slaves freedom and even enjoys their boldness.

But he who is hated by the people, as the wolf by the dogs—is the free spirit, the enemy of fetters, the non-adorer, the dweller in the woods.

But the people hate the free spirit as dogs hate a wolf. The free spirit is an enemy of chains, one who worships no one and lives in the woods.

To hunt him out of his lair—that was always called “sense of right” by the people: on him do they still hound their sharpest-toothed dogs.

People have always called hunting him out of his lair their “sense of right.” They still set their sharpest-toothed dogs on him.

“For there the truth is, where the people are! Woe, woe to the seeking ones!”—thus hath it echoed through all time.

“Truth is wherever the people are! Woe, woe to those who seek!” This cry has echoed through all time.

Your people would ye justify in their reverence: that called ye “Will to Truth,” ye famous wise ones!

You wanted to justify your people’s reverence. You called that “Will to Truth,” you famous wise ones!

And your heart hath always said to itself: “From the people have I come: from thence came to me also the voice of God.”

And your heart has always said to itself: “I came from the people. The voice of God also came to me from the people.”

Stiff-necked and artful, like the ass, have ye always been, as the advocates of the people.

As advocates of the people, you have always been stubborn and cunning, like donkeys.

And many a powerful one who wanted to run well with the people, hath harnessed in front of his horses—a donkey, a famous wise man.

And many powerful people who wanted to get along with the public have harnessed a donkey in front of their horses, a famous wise man.

And now, ye famous wise ones, I would have you finally throw off entirely the skin of the lion!

And now, you famous wise ones, I want you to finally throw off the lion's skin completely!

The skin of the beast of prey, the speckled skin, and the dishevelled locks of the investigator, the searcher, and the conqueror!

The skin of the predator, the spotted skin, and the tangled hair of the investigator, the seeker, and the conqueror!

Ah! for me to learn to believe in your “conscientiousness,” ye would first have to break your venerating will.

Ah! Before I can learn to believe in your “conscientiousness,” you must first break your will to worship.

Conscientious—so call I him who goeth into God-forsaken wildernesses, and hath broken his venerating heart.

I call someone conscientious if he goes into God-forsaken wildernesses and has broken his worshipful heart.

In the yellow sands and burnt by the sun, he doubtless peereth thirstily at the isles rich in fountains, where life reposeth under shady trees.

In the yellow sands, burned by the sun, he surely gazes thirstily at the islands rich in springs, where life rests beneath shady trees.

But his thirst doth not persuade him to become like those comfortable ones: for where there are oases, there are also idols.

But his thirst does not persuade him to become like those comfortable people. For where there are oases, there are also idols.

Hungry, fierce, lonesome, God-forsaken: so doth the lion-will wish itself.

Hungry, fierce, lonely, God-forsaken: this is how the lion-will wants to be.

Free from the happiness of slaves, redeemed from Deities and adorations, fearless and fear-inspiring, grand and lonesome: so is the will of the conscientious.

The will of the conscientious is free from the happiness of slaves and freed from gods and worship. It is fearless and inspires fear, grand and lonely.

In the wilderness have ever dwelt the conscientious, the free spirits, as lords of the wilderness; but in the cities dwell the well-foddered, famous wise ones—the draught-beasts.

The conscientious, the free spirits, have always lived in the wilderness as its masters. But the well-fed, famous wise men live in the cities. They are beasts of burden.

For, always, do they draw, as asses—the PEOPLE’S carts!

For they always pull the PEOPLE’S carts like donkeys!

Not that I on that account upbraid them: but serving ones do they remain, and harnessed ones, even though they glitter in golden harness.

I do not reproach them for that. But they remain servants, still in harness, even if they glitter in golden harness.

And often have they been good servants and worthy of their hire. For thus saith virtue: “If thou must be a servant, seek him unto whom thy service is most useful!

And they have often been good servants, worthy of their pay. For virtue says: “If you must be a servant, seek the one to whom your service is most useful!

The spirit and virtue of thy master shall advance by thou being his servant: thus wilt thou thyself advance with his spirit and virtue!”

By serving your master, you will advance his spirit and virtue. In this way, you too will advance with his spirit and virtue!”

And verily, ye famous wise ones, ye servants of the people! Ye yourselves have advanced with the people’s spirit and virtue—and the people by you! To your honour do I say it!

And truly, you famous wise ones, you servants of the people! You have advanced with the people’s spirit and virtue, and the people have advanced with you! I say this to your credit!

But the people ye remain for me, even with your virtues, the people with purblind eyes—the people who know not what SPIRIT is!

But to me, even with your virtues, you remain the people with half-blind eyes, the people who do not know what SPIRIT is!

Spirit is life which itself cutteth into life: by its own torture doth it increase its own knowledge,—did ye know that before?

Spirit is life that cuts into life itself. Through its own suffering, spirit increases its knowledge. Did you know that before?

And the spirit’s happiness is this: to be anointed and consecrated with tears as a sacrificial victim,—did ye know that before?

And the spirit’s happiness is to be anointed and made sacred with tears, like a sacrificial victim. Did you know that before?

And the blindness of the blind one, and his seeking and groping, shall yet testify to the power of the sun into which he hath gazed,—did ye know that before?

And the blind person's blindness, searching, and groping will yet testify to the power of the sun he gazed into. Did you know that before?

And with mountains shall the discerning one learn to BUILD! It is a small thing for the spirit to remove mountains,—did ye know that before?

And the discerning person will learn to BUILD with mountains! For the spirit, moving mountains is a small thing. Did you know that before?

Ye know only the sparks of the spirit: but ye do not see the anvil which it is, and the cruelty of its hammer!

You know only the sparks of the spirit. But you do not see that the spirit is an anvil, or the cruelty of its hammer!

Verily, ye know not the spirit’s pride! But still less could ye endure the spirit’s humility, should it ever want to speak!

You do not know the spirit’s pride! But you could bear its humility even less, if it ever wanted to speak!

And never yet could ye cast your spirit into a pit of snow: ye are not hot enough for that! Thus are ye unaware, also, of the delight of its coldness.

And you have never been able to cast your spirit into a pit of snow. You are not hot enough for that! So you do not know the delight of its coldness, either.

In all respects, however, ye make too familiar with the spirit; and out of wisdom have ye often made an almshouse and a hospital for bad poets.

In every way, however, you treat the spirit too casually. And you have often turned wisdom into a shelter and hospital for bad poets.

Ye are not eagles: thus have ye never experienced the happiness of the alarm of the spirit. And he who is not a bird should not camp above abysses.

You are not eagles. So you have never felt the joy of the spirit’s alarm. And anyone who is not a bird should not camp above an abyss.

Ye seem to me lukewarm ones: but coldly floweth all deep knowledge. Ice-cold are the innermost wells of the spirit: a refreshment to hot hands and handlers.

You seem lukewarm to me, but all deep knowledge flows cold. The innermost wells of the spirit are ice-cold, refreshing hot hands and those who handle things.

Respectable do ye there stand, and stiff, and with straight backs, ye famous wise ones!—no strong wind or will impelleth you.

You stand there looking respectable and stiff, with straight backs, you famous wise ones! No strong wind or will drives you.

Have ye ne’er seen a sail crossing the sea, rounded and inflated, and trembling with the violence of the wind?

Have you never seen a sail crossing the sea, rounded and full, trembling in the fierce wind?

Like the sail trembling with the violence of the spirit, doth my wisdom cross the sea—my wild wisdom!

Like a sail trembling with the force of the spirit, my wisdom crosses the sea. My wild wisdom!

But ye servants of the people, ye famous wise ones—how COULD ye go with me!—

But you servants of the people, you famous wise ones, how COULD you come with me!

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.