THIRD PART.
59. LIX. THE SECOND DANCE-SONG. (continued)
Thou bat! Thou owl! Thou wouldst play me foul? Where are we? From the
dogs hast thou learned thus to bark and howl.
Thou gnashest on me sweetly with little white teeth; thine evil eyes shoot
out upon me, thy curly little mane from underneath!
This is a dance over stock and stone: I am the hunter,--wilt thou be my
hound, or my chamois anon?
Now beside me! And quickly, wickedly springing! Now up! And over!--Alas!
I have fallen myself overswinging!
Oh, see me lying, thou arrogant one, and imploring grace! Gladly would I
walk with thee--in some lovelier place!
--In the paths of love, through bushes variegated, quiet, trim! Or there
along the lake, where gold-fishes dance and swim!
Thou art now a-weary? There above are sheep and sun-set stripes: is it
not sweet to sleep--the shepherd pipes?
Thou art so very weary? I carry thee thither; let just thine arm sink!
And art thou thirsty--I should have something; but thy mouth would not like
it to drink!--
--Oh, that cursed, nimble, supple serpent and lurking-witch! Where art
thou gone? But in my face do I feel through thy hand, two spots and red
blotches itch!
I am verily weary of it, ever thy sheepish shepherd to be. Thou witch, if
I have hitherto sung unto thee, now shalt THOU--cry unto me!
To the rhythm of my whip shalt thou dance and cry! I forget not my whip?--
Not I!"--
2.
Then did Life answer me thus, and kept thereby her fine ears closed:
"O Zarathustra! Crack not so terribly with thy whip! Thou knowest surely
that noise killeth thought,--and just now there came to me such delicate
thoughts.
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