About bazaar flies - Дневник ICOSIA
My friend, flee to your solitude! I see that you are stunned by the noise of the great and stung by the stings of the small.
With dignity the forest and the rocks know how to be silent with you. Be like thy beloved tree again, spreading out its branches, listening, it bows silently over the sea.
Where solitude ends, there begins the bazaar: where the bazaar is, there is the noise of great actors and the buzzing of poisonous flies.
In the world, the best things mean nothing until there is no one to present them from the stage: it is the crowd that calls these presenters great men.
The crowd does not understand all that is great, that is, creative; but it understands well the actors who present all that is great on the stage.
Around the inventors of new values revolves the world - invisibly revolves it; and around the actors revolves the crowd and the glory: this is what is called the world order.
The actor has spirit, but little conscience of spirit. He always believes in that by which he makes others believe - he believes in himself!
He believes in a new way tomorrow and in a different way again the day after. His feelings are impetuous, like those of a crowd, and his moods are just as fickle.
"To overturn" means "to prove"; "to drive mad" means "to convince." He considers blood to be the most convincing proof.
Truth, which slips only into sensitive ears, is to him a lie and nothing. Truly, he believes only in the gods that make the most noise in the world!
The bazaar is full of jubilant clowns, and the crowd is proud of its great men, these lords of the minute!
But the minute is insistent, and here - these insistent ones rush you and demand an answer: yes or no? Alas, if you want to put your chair between their "for" and their "against"!
Let not these fussy champions of the unconditional Truth be a temptation to thee, beloved one! Never yet has it clung to the hand of the absolute.
Shun and beware of these intrusive ones: only at the bazaar do they pounce with the question, "Yes or no?"
Slowly flows the life of all deep springs: long must they wait till they know what has fallen into their depths.
Away from the bazaar and the glory goes all great things: away from the bazaar and the glory have always lived the inventors of new values.
My friend, run to your solitude: I see that you are bitten by poisonous flies. Flee to the place where a harsh, fresh wind blows!
Flee to your solitude! You have lived too close to the small and wretched; flee from their unseen vengeance! There is nothing in them but vengeance.
So do not lift up your hands against them! For they are innumerable, and it is not your lot to beat flies.
They are innumerable, these little and wretched ones; more than one proud building has been ruined by raindrops and weeds.
You are not a stone, but you are already becoming hollow from the multitude of falling drops. Cracks and crevices appear on you.
I see that you are tired of poison flies and scratched in blood in many places, and your pride does not even want to resent.
These wretched creatures desire blood, their bloodless souls crave blood - so they sting in innocence and simplicity of soul.
But thou art deep, and deeply afflicted, even by the smallest wounds; and behold, before thou canst heal, the poisonous worm crawls again upon thy hand.
But thou art too proud to take and swat these tidbits; beware, lest it become thy fate to endure their poisonous impudence.
And with praises they buzz around thee: annoyance is what their praises are! To be close to thy skin and blood - that is what they crave.
They flatter you as if they were God or the devil; they squeal before you as if they were God or the devil. Well, they are flatterers, squealers, and nothing more.
They may be kind and courteous to you. But such has always been the prudence of cowards. Yes, cowards are clever!
With their shallow souls they think much of you: you always make them suspicious. All that is much thought of becomes suspicious. [15]
They punish you for your virtues, but forgive - but completely - only your mistakes.
You are indulgent and just, therefore you say, "They are not guilty of their insignificant existence. But their shallow soul thinks, "The fault lies with every great existence."
When you are indulgent, they still feel your contempt, and return your favor by stinging in secret.
The silence of thy pride always displeases them: but they rejoice when thou art so humble as to become vain.
That which we recognize in a man, we inflame in him. Beware of little people!
Before thee they feel low, and their lowliness smolders and flares up into invisible vengeance.
Hast thou not noticed how often they were speechless when thou approached them, and how their strength left them like the smoke of a fading fire?
Here, my friend, you are a reproach to your neighbors, for they do not deserve you. Therefore they hate thee, and are ready to suck thy blood.
(That's what he said Zarathustra)
Изм. ICOSIA (23 Ноября 2021 в 11:06)
7
With dignity the forest and the rocks know how to be silent with you. Be like thy beloved tree again, spreading out its branches, listening, it bows silently over the sea.
Where solitude ends, there begins the bazaar: where the bazaar is, there is the noise of great actors and the buzzing of poisonous flies.
In the world, the best things mean nothing until there is no one to present them from the stage: it is the crowd that calls these presenters great men.
The crowd does not understand all that is great, that is, creative; but it understands well the actors who present all that is great on the stage.
Around the inventors of new values revolves the world - invisibly revolves it; and around the actors revolves the crowd and the glory: this is what is called the world order.
The actor has spirit, but little conscience of spirit. He always believes in that by which he makes others believe - he believes in himself!
He believes in a new way tomorrow and in a different way again the day after. His feelings are impetuous, like those of a crowd, and his moods are just as fickle.
"To overturn" means "to prove"; "to drive mad" means "to convince." He considers blood to be the most convincing proof.
Truth, which slips only into sensitive ears, is to him a lie and nothing. Truly, he believes only in the gods that make the most noise in the world!
The bazaar is full of jubilant clowns, and the crowd is proud of its great men, these lords of the minute!
But the minute is insistent, and here - these insistent ones rush you and demand an answer: yes or no? Alas, if you want to put your chair between their "for" and their "against"!
Let not these fussy champions of the unconditional Truth be a temptation to thee, beloved one! Never yet has it clung to the hand of the absolute.
Shun and beware of these intrusive ones: only at the bazaar do they pounce with the question, "Yes or no?"
Slowly flows the life of all deep springs: long must they wait till they know what has fallen into their depths.
Away from the bazaar and the glory goes all great things: away from the bazaar and the glory have always lived the inventors of new values.
My friend, run to your solitude: I see that you are bitten by poisonous flies. Flee to the place where a harsh, fresh wind blows!
Flee to your solitude! You have lived too close to the small and wretched; flee from their unseen vengeance! There is nothing in them but vengeance.
So do not lift up your hands against them! For they are innumerable, and it is not your lot to beat flies.
They are innumerable, these little and wretched ones; more than one proud building has been ruined by raindrops and weeds.
You are not a stone, but you are already becoming hollow from the multitude of falling drops. Cracks and crevices appear on you.
I see that you are tired of poison flies and scratched in blood in many places, and your pride does not even want to resent.
These wretched creatures desire blood, their bloodless souls crave blood - so they sting in innocence and simplicity of soul.
But thou art deep, and deeply afflicted, even by the smallest wounds; and behold, before thou canst heal, the poisonous worm crawls again upon thy hand.
But thou art too proud to take and swat these tidbits; beware, lest it become thy fate to endure their poisonous impudence.
And with praises they buzz around thee: annoyance is what their praises are! To be close to thy skin and blood - that is what they crave.
They flatter you as if they were God or the devil; they squeal before you as if they were God or the devil. Well, they are flatterers, squealers, and nothing more.
They may be kind and courteous to you. But such has always been the prudence of cowards. Yes, cowards are clever!
With their shallow souls they think much of you: you always make them suspicious. All that is much thought of becomes suspicious. [15]
They punish you for your virtues, but forgive - but completely - only your mistakes.
You are indulgent and just, therefore you say, "They are not guilty of their insignificant existence. But their shallow soul thinks, "The fault lies with every great existence."
When you are indulgent, they still feel your contempt, and return your favor by stinging in secret.
The silence of thy pride always displeases them: but they rejoice when thou art so humble as to become vain.
That which we recognize in a man, we inflame in him. Beware of little people!
Before thee they feel low, and their lowliness smolders and flares up into invisible vengeance.
Hast thou not noticed how often they were speechless when thou approached them, and how their strength left them like the smoke of a fading fire?
Here, my friend, you are a reproach to your neighbors, for they do not deserve you. Therefore they hate thee, and are ready to suck thy blood.
(That's what he said Zarathustra)
Изм. ICOSIA (23 Ноября 2021 в 11:06)
7
Автор: ICOSIA
23 Ноября 2021 в 10:59