SECOND PART.
33. XXXIII. THE GRAVE-SONG. (continued)
At my most vulnerable point did they shoot the arrow--namely, at you, whose
skin is like down--or more like the smile that dieth at a glance!
But this word will I say unto mine enemies: What is all manslaughter in
comparison with what ye have done unto me!
Worse evil did ye do unto me than all manslaughter; the irretrievable did
ye take from me:--thus do I speak unto you, mine enemies!
Slew ye not my youth's visions and dearest marvels! My playmates took ye
from me, the blessed spirits! To their memory do I deposit this wreath and
this curse.
This curse upon you, mine enemies! Have ye not made mine eternal short, as
a tone dieth away in a cold night! Scarcely, as the twinkle of divine
eyes, did it come to me--as a fleeting gleam!
Thus spake once in a happy hour my purity: "Divine shall everything be
unto me."
Then did ye haunt me with foul phantoms; ah, whither hath that happy hour
now fled!
"All days shall be holy unto me"--so spake once the wisdom of my youth:
verily, the language of a joyous wisdom!
But then did ye enemies steal my nights, and sold them to sleepless
torture: ah, whither hath that joyous wisdom now fled?
Once did I long for happy auspices: then did ye lead an owl-monster across
my path, an adverse sign. Ah, whither did my tender longing then flee?
All loathing did I once vow to renounce: then did ye change my nigh ones
and nearest ones into ulcerations. Ah, whither did my noblest vow then
flee?
As a blind one did I once walk in blessed ways: then did ye cast filth on
the blind one's course: and now is he disgusted with the old footpath.
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