《查拉图斯特拉如是说·第二部》第26节
XXXV. THE SUBLIME ONES. Calm is the bottom of my sea: who would guess that it hideth droll monsters! Unmoved is my depth: but it sparkleth with swimming enigmas and laughters. A sublime one saw I to-day, a solemn one, a penitent of the spirit: Oh, how my soul laughed at his ugliness! With upraised breast, and like those who draw in their breath: thus did he stand, the sublime one, and in silence: O’erhung with ugly truths, the spoil of his hunting, and rich in torn raiment; many thorns also hung on him—but I saw no rose. Not yet had he learned laughing and beauty. Gloomy did this hunter return from the forest of knowledge. From the fight with wild beasts returned he home: but even yet a wild beast gazeth out of his seriousness—an unconquered wild beast! As a tiger doth he ever stand, on the point of springing; but I do not like those strained souls; ungracious is my taste towards all those self-engrossed ones. And ye tell me, friends, that there is to be no dispute about taste and tasting? But all life is a dispute about taste and tasting! Taste: that is weight at the same time, and scales and weigher; and alas for every living thing that would live without dispute about weight and scales and weigher! Should he become weary of his sublimeness, this sublime one, then only will his beauty begin—and then only will I taste him and find him savoury. And only when he turneth away from himself will he o’erleap his own shadow—and verily! into HIS sun. Far too long did he sit in the shade; the cheeks of the penitent of the spirit became pale; he almost starved on his expectations. Contempt is still in his eye, and loathing hideth in his mouth. To be sure, he now resteth, but he hath not yet taken rest in the sunshine. As the ox ought he to do; and his happiness should smell of the earth, and not of contempt for the earth. As a white ox would I like to see him, which, snorting and lowing, walketh before the ploughshare: and his lowing should also laud all that is earthly! Dark is still his countenance; the shadow of his hand danceth upon it. O’ershadowed is still the sense of his eye. His deed itself is still the shadow upon him: his doing obscureth the doer. Not yet hath he overcome his deed. To be sure, I love in him the shoulders of the ox: but now do I want to see also the eye of the angel. Also his hero-will hath he still to unlearn: an exalted one shall he be, and not only a sublime one:—the ether itself should raise him, the will-less one!
注释摘要
这一节名为“崇高者”，查拉图斯特拉在此描述的不是庙堂里的神，而是人群中那些被尊为庄严、深刻、富于精神苦修的人。他自己则从一种宁静而幽深的内在状态出发——他将自己的灵魂比作平静的海底，深处藏着滑稽的怪物与游动的谜题和笑声。这个开场并非闲笔，它给出了一个标准：真正的深度并非紧绷的严肃，而是那种在不动声色中含纳笑与谜的从容。站在这个标准对面的是那位“崇高者”，一…