Scholars

When I lay asleep, then did a sheep eat at the ivy-wreath on my head,—it ate, and said thereby: “Zarathustra is no longer a scholar.”

While I slept, a sheep ate the ivy wreath on my head. As it ate, it said: “Zarathustra is no longer a scholar.”

It said this, and went away clumsily and proudly. A child told it to me.

It said this and walked away clumsily and proudly. A child told me about it.

I like to lie here where the children play, beside the ruined wall, among thistles and red poppies.

I like to lie here where the children play, beside the ruined wall, among thistles and red poppies.

A scholar am I still to the children, and also to the thistles and red poppies. Innocent are they, even in their wickedness.

I am still a student of children, and of thistles and red poppies. They are innocent, even in their wickedness.

But to the sheep I am no longer a scholar: so willeth my lot—blessings upon it!

But to the sheep, I am no longer a scholar. That is my fate, and blessings upon it!

For this is the truth: I have departed from the house of the scholars, and the door have I also slammed behind me.

For the truth is, I have left the house of the scholars, and I slammed the door behind me.

Too long did my soul sit hungry at their table: not like them have I got the knack of investigating, as the knack of nut-cracking.

For too long, my soul sat hungry at their table. Unlike them, I have not learned to investigate as easily as cracking nuts.

Freedom do I love, and the air over fresh soil; rather would I sleep on ox-skins than on their honours and dignities.

I love freedom and the air over fresh soil. I would rather sleep on ox hides than on their honors and titles.

I am too hot and scorched with mine own thought: often is it ready to take away my breath. Then have I to go into the open air, and away from all dusty rooms.

I am too hot and scorched by my own thoughts. Often they are ready to take my breath away. Then I have to go outside, away from all dusty rooms.

But they sit cool in the cool shade: they want in everything to be merely spectators, and they avoid sitting where the sun burneth on the steps.

But they sit cool in the shade. They want to be mere spectators in everything, and they avoid sitting on the sun-scorched steps.

Like those who stand in the street and gape at the passers-by: thus do they also wait, and gape at the thoughts which others have thought.

Like people who stand in the street and stare at passersby, they wait and stare at thoughts others have thought.

Should one lay hold of them, then do they raise a dust like flour-sacks, and involuntarily: but who would divine that their dust came from corn, and from the yellow delight of the summer fields?

If you grab them, they involuntarily raise dust like sacks of flour. But who would guess that their dust came from grain and the yellow delight of summer fields?

When they give themselves out as wise, then do their petty sayings and truths chill me: in their wisdom there is often an odour as if it came from the swamp; and verily, I have even heard the frog croak in it!

When they pose as wise, their petty sayings and truths chill me. Their wisdom often smells as if it came from a swamp. And truly, I have even heard a frog croak in it!

Clever are they—they have dexterous fingers: what doth MY simplicity pretend to beside their multiplicity! All threading and knitting and weaving do their fingers understand: thus do they make the hose of the spirit!

They are clever and have nimble fingers. How can MY simplicity compare with their many skills! Their fingers know all about threading, knitting, and weaving. That is how they make the stockings of the spirit!

Good clockworks are they: only be careful to wind them up properly! Then do they indicate the hour without mistake, and make a modest noise thereby.

They are good clocks. Just be careful to wind them properly! Then they tell the time accurately and make a modest noise as they do.

Like millstones do they work, and like pestles: throw only seed-corn unto them!—they know well how to grind corn small, and make white dust out of it.

They work like millstones and pestles. Just throw them grain! They know how to grind it fine and turn it into white dust.

They keep a sharp eye on one another, and do not trust each other the best. Ingenious in little artifices, they wait for those whose knowledge walketh on lame feet,—like spiders do they wait.

They watch one another closely and do not trust each other much. Clever at little tricks, they wait like spiders for those whose knowledge walks on lame feet.

I saw them always prepare their poison with precaution; and always did they put glass gloves on their fingers in doing so.

I always saw them prepare their poison carefully, and they always wore glass gloves while doing so.

They also know how to play with false dice; and so eagerly did I find them playing, that they perspired thereby.

They also know how to play with loaded dice. I found them playing so eagerly that they were sweating.

We are alien to each other, and their virtues are even more repugnant to my taste than their falsehoods and false dice.

We are strangers to each other. And I find their virtues even more repulsive than their lies and loaded dice.

And when I lived with them, then did I live above them. Therefore did they take a dislike to me.

And when I lived with them, I lived above them. That is why they came to dislike me.

They want to hear nothing of any one walking above their heads; and so they put wood and earth and rubbish betwixt me and their heads.

They don't want to hear anyone walking above their heads. So they put wood, earth, and rubbish between me and their heads.

Thus did they deafen the sound of my tread: and least have I hitherto been heard by the most learned.

That is how they drowned out the sound of my footsteps. So far, the most learned have heard me least of all.

All mankind’s faults and weaknesses did they put betwixt themselves and me:—they call it “false ceiling” in their houses.

They put all of humanity’s faults and weaknesses between themselves and me. In their houses, they call it a “false ceiling”.

But nevertheless I walk with my thoughts ABOVE their heads; and even should I walk on mine own errors, still would I be above them and their heads.

But I still walk with my thoughts ABOVE their heads. Even if I walk on my own mistakes, I would still be above them and their heads.

For men are NOT equal: so speaketh justice. And what I will, THEY may not will!—

For men are NOT equal. That is what justice says. And what I will, THEY may not will!

Thus spake Zarathustra.

This is what Zarathustra said.