《查拉图斯特拉如是说·第四部》第63节
When all this went on Zarathustra spake only a word: “MY CHILDREN ARE NIGH, MY CHILDREN”—, then he became quite mute. His heart, however, was loosed, and from his eyes there dropped down tears and fell upon his hands. And he took no further notice of anything, but sat there motionless, without repelling the animals further. Then flew the doves to and fro, and perched on his shoulder, and caressed his white hair, and did not tire of their tenderness and joyousness. The strong lion, however, licked always the tears that fell on Zarathustra’s hands, and roared and growled shyly. Thus did these animals do.— All this went on for a long time, or a short time: for properly speaking, there is NO time on earth for such things—. Meanwhile, however, the higher men had awakened in Zarathustra’s cave, and marshalled themselves for a procession to go to meet Zarathustra, and give him their morning greeting: for they had found when they awakened that he no longer tarried with them. When, however, they reached the door of the cave and the noise of their steps had preceded them, the lion started violently; it turned away all at once from Zarathustra, and roaring wildly, sprang towards the cave. The higher men, however, when they heard the lion roaring, cried all aloud as with one voice, fled back and vanished in an instant. Zarathustra himself, however, stunned and strange, rose from his seat, looked around him, stood there astonished, inquired of his heart, bethought himself, and remained alone. “What did I hear?” said he at last, slowly, “what happened unto me just now?” But soon there came to him his recollection, and he took in at a glance all that had taken place between yesterday and to-day. “Here is indeed the stone,” said he, and stroked his beard, “on IT sat I yester-morn; and here came the soothsayer unto me, and here heard I first the cry which I heard just now, the great cry of distress. O ye higher men, YOUR distress was it that the old soothsayer foretold to me yester-morn,— —Unto your distress did he want to seduce and tempt me: ‘O Zarathustra,’ said he to me, ‘I come to seduce thee to thy last sin.’ To my last sin?” cried Zarathustra, and laughed angrily at his own words: “WHAT hath been reserved for me as my last sin?” —And once more Zarathustra became absorbed in himself, and sat down again on the big stone and meditated. Suddenly he sprang up,— “FELLOW-SUFFERING! FELLOW-SUFFERING WITH THE HIGHER MEN!” he cried out, and his countenance changed into brass. “Well! THAT—hath had its time! My suffering and my fellow-suffering—what matter about them! Do I then strive after HAPPINESS? I strive after my WORK! Well! The lion hath come, my children are nigh, Zarathustra hath grown ripe, mine hour hath come:— This is MY morning, MY day beginneth: ARISE NOW, ARISE, THOU GREAT NOONTIDE!”— Thus spake Zarathustra and left his cave, glowing and strong, like a morning sun coming out of gloomy mountains.
注释摘要
这是全书终章“征兆”的收束。在经历了漫长的夜晚、醉歌与驴节之后，查拉图斯特拉独自面对清晨。狮子与鸽群同时降临在他的身边：狮子不再咆哮着扑向猎物，而是把沉重的头颅搁在他的膝上，温顺如认出旧主的犬；鸽子则栖落在他雪白的发间和肩头，无休止地亲昵。这双重意象恰恰指向他口中那句“我的孩子们近了”。从第一部起他就在等待的，始终不是那些来寻求庇护的“高等人”，而是另一种…