Message #32959

[VoraX]

7.

  Meanwhile the evening came on, and the market-place veiled itself in
gloom. Then the people dispersed, for even curiosity and terror become
fatigued. Zarathustra, however, still sat beside the dead man on the
ground, absorbed in thought: so he forgot the time. But at last it
became night, and a cold wind blew upon the lonely one. Then arose
Zarathustra and said to his heart:
  Verily, a fine catch of fish hath Zarathustra made to-day! It is not
a man he hath caught, but a corpse.
  Sombre is human life, and as yet without meaning: a buffoon may be
fateful to it.
  I want to teach men the sense of their existence, which is the
Superman, the lightning out of the dark cloud- man.
  But still am I far from them, and my sense speaketh not unto their
sense. To men I am still something between a fool and a corpse.
  Gloomy is the night, gloomy are the ways of Zarathustra. Come,
thou cold and stiff companion! I carry thee to the place where I shall
bury thee with mine own hands.