Immaculate Perception

When yester-eve the moon arose, then did I fancy it about to bear a sun: so broad and teeming did it lie on the horizon.

When the moon rose last night, I imagined it was about to give birth to a sun, so broad and full it lay on the horizon.

But it was a liar with its pregnancy; and sooner will I believe in the man in the moon than in the woman.

But it lied about being pregnant. And I would sooner believe in the man in the moon than in the woman.

To be sure, little of a man is he also, that timid night-reveller. Verily, with a bad conscience doth he stalk over the roofs.

To be sure, that timid night reveler is not much of a man either. Indeed, he stalks across the rooftops with a guilty conscience.

For he is covetous and jealous, the monk in the moon; covetous of the earth, and all the joys of lovers.

For the monk in the moon is greedy and jealous. He longs for the earth and all the joys of lovers.

Nay, I like him not, that tom-cat on the roofs! Hateful unto me are all that slink around half-closed windows!

No, I don't like him, that tomcat on the rooftops! I hate everyone who sneaks around half-closed windows!

Piously and silently doth he stalk along on the star-carpets:—but I like no light-treading human feet, on which not even a spur jingleth.

He walks reverently and silently across the carpets of stars. But I do not like human feet that tread so lightly that not even a spur jingles.

Every honest one’s step speaketh; the cat however, stealeth along over the ground. Lo! cat-like doth the moon come along, and dishonestly.—

Every honest person’s footsteps speak. But the cat steals silently across the ground. Look! The moon comes along like a cat, dishonestly.

This parable speak I unto you sentimental dissemblers, unto you, the “pure discerners!” You do I call—covetous ones!

I tell this parable to you sentimental pretenders, you “pure discerners!” I call you covetous!

Also ye love the earth, and the earthly: I have divined you well!—but shame is in your love, and a bad conscience—ye are like the moon!

You also love the earth and earthly things. I have seen through you! But there is shame and a guilty conscience in your love. You are like the moon!

To despise the earthly hath your spirit been persuaded, but not your bowels: these, however, are the strongest in you!

Your spirit has been persuaded to despise earthly things, but your bowels have not. Yet your bowels are the strongest part of you!

And now is your spirit ashamed to be at the service of your bowels, and goeth by-ways and lying ways to escape its own shame.

And now your spirit is ashamed to serve your bowels. It takes hidden and deceitful paths to escape its shame.

“That would be the highest thing for me”—so saith your lying spirit unto itself—“to gaze upon life without desire, and not like the dog, with hanging-out tongue:

“The highest thing for me,” your lying spirit says to itself, “would be to look at life without desire, not like a dog with its tongue hanging out:

To be happy in gazing: with dead will, free from the grip and greed of selfishness—cold and ashy-grey all over, but with intoxicated moon-eyes!

To be happy just looking: with the will dead, free from the grip and greed of selfishness. Cold and ash-gray all over, but with moonlike eyes drunk with wonder!

That would be the dearest thing to me”—thus doth the seduced one seduce himself,—“to love the earth as the moon loveth it, and with the eye only to feel its beauty.

“That would be what I want most,” says the seduced person, seducing himself: “to love the earth as the moon loves it, and to feel its beauty through sight alone.”

And this do I call IMMACULATE perception of all things: to want nothing else from them, but to be allowed to lie before them as a mirror with a hundred facets.”—

And this is what I call IMMACULATE perception of all things: to want nothing from them except to lie before them like a mirror with a hundred facets.”

Oh, ye sentimental dissemblers, ye covetous ones! Ye lack innocence in your desire: and now do ye defame desiring on that account!

Oh, you sentimental hypocrites, you greedy people! There is no innocence in your desire, so now you condemn desire itself!

Verily, not as creators, as procreators, or as jubilators do ye love the earth!

Truly, you do not love the earth as creators, parents, or joyful celebrants do!

Where is innocence? Where there is will to procreation. And he who seeketh to create beyond himself, hath for me the purest will.

Where is innocence? Wherever there is a desire to procreate. And to me, the person who seeks to create beyond himself has the purest will.

Where is beauty? Where I MUST WILL with my whole Will; where I will love and perish, that an image may not remain merely an image.

Where is beauty? It is where I MUST WILL with my whole will, where I will love and perish so that an image does not remain merely an image.

Loving and perishing: these have rhymed from eternity. Will to love: that is to be ready also for death. Thus do I speak unto you cowards!

Love and death have rhymed for eternity. To want to love is also to be ready to die. That is what I say to you cowards!

But now doth your emasculated ogling profess to be “contemplation!” And that which can be examined with cowardly eyes is to be christened “beautiful!” Oh, ye violators of noble names!

But now you call your emasculated ogling “contemplation!” And whatever can be examined with cowardly eyes is to be called “beautiful!” Oh, you corrupters of noble names!

But it shall be your curse, ye immaculate ones, ye pure discerners, that ye shall never bring forth, even though ye lie broad and teeming on the horizon!

But this will be your curse, you immaculate ones, you pure observers: you will never give birth, though you stretch broad and fertile across the horizon!

Verily, ye fill your mouth with noble words: and we are to believe that your heart overfloweth, ye cozeners?

Indeed, you fill your mouths with noble words. And are we supposed to believe your hearts are overflowing, you deceivers?

But MY words are poor, contemptible, stammering words: gladly do I pick up what falleth from the table at your repasts.

But MY words are poor, contemptible, stumbling words. I gladly pick up what falls from your table when you eat.

Yet still can I say therewith the truth—to dissemblers! Yea, my fish-bones, shells, and prickly leaves shall—tickle the noses of dissemblers!

Yet I can still use it to tell the truth to deceivers! Yes, my fish bones, shells, and prickly leaves will tickle the noses of deceivers!

Bad air is always about you and your repasts: your lascivious thoughts, your lies, and secrets are indeed in the air!

Bad air always surrounds you and your meals. Your lustful thoughts, lies, and secrets are indeed in the air!

Dare only to believe in yourselves—in yourselves and in your inward parts! He who doth not believe in himself always lieth.

Dare to believe only in yourselves, in yourselves and in your innermost selves! Anyone who does not believe in themselves always lies.

A God’s mask have ye hung in front of you, ye “pure ones”: into a God’s mask hath your execrable coiling snake crawled.

You “pure ones” have hung a mask of God in front of yourselves. Your hateful, coiling snake has crawled into that mask.

Verily ye deceive, ye “contemplative ones!” Even Zarathustra was once the dupe of your godlike exterior; he did not divine the serpent’s coil with which it was stuffed.

You really are deceivers, you “contemplative ones!” Even Zarathustra was once fooled by your godlike appearance. He did not suspect the coiled serpent hidden inside it.

A God’s soul, I once thought I saw playing in your games, ye pure discerners! No better arts did I once dream of than your arts!

I once thought I saw a god’s soul playing in your games, you pure discerners! I once dreamed of no arts better than yours!

Serpents’ filth and evil odour, the distance concealed from me: and that a lizard’s craft prowled thereabouts lasciviously.

The distance hid the snakes’ filth and foul smell from me. It also hid the fact that a lizard’s cunning prowled there lustfully.

But I came NIGH unto you: then came to me the day,—and now cometh it to you,—at an end is the moon’s love affair!

But I came close to you. Then day came to me, and now it comes to you. The moon’s love affair is over!

See there! Surprised and pale doth it stand—before the rosy dawn!

Look there! It stands surprised and pale before the rosy dawn!

For already she cometh, the glowing one,—HER love to the earth cometh! Innocence and creative desire, is all solar love!

For already she is coming, the glowing one. HER love for the earth is coming! All the sun's love is innocence and creative desire!

See there, how she cometh impatiently over the sea! Do ye not feel the thirst and the hot breath of her love?

Look, how impatiently she comes across the sea! Can you feel the thirst and hot breath of her love?

At the sea would she suck, and drink its depths to her height: now riseth the desire of the sea with its thousand breasts.

She would suck at the sea and drink its depths up to her own height. Now the desire of the sea rises with its thousand breasts.

Kissed and sucked WOULD it be by the thirst of the sun; vapour WOULD it become, and height, and path of light, and light itself!

It WANTED to be kissed and sucked up by the sun’s thirst. It WANTED to become vapor, height, a path of light, and light itself!

Verily, like the sun do I love life, and all deep seas.

Truly, like the sun, I love life and all deep seas.

And this meaneth TO ME knowledge: all that is deep shall ascend—to my height!—

And this is what knowledge means TO ME: everything deep must rise to my height!

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.