Your people would you justify in their reverence: that called you "Will to Truth," you famous wise ones!
And your heart has always said to itself: "From the people have I come: from thence came to me also the voice of God."
Stiff-necked and artful, like the ass, have you always been, as the advocates of the people.
And many a powerful one who wanted to run well with the people, has harnessed in front of his horses- a donkey, a famous wise man.
And now, you famous wise ones, I would have you finally throw off entirely the skin of the lion!
The skin of the beast of prey, the speckled skin, and the dishevelled locks of the investigator, the searcher, and the conqueror!
Ah! for me to learn to believe in your "conscientiousness," you would first have to break your venerating will.
Conscientious- so call I him who goes into God-forsaken wildernesses, and has broken his venerating heart.
In the yellow sands and burnt by the sun, he doubtless peers thirstily at the isles rich in fountains, where life reposes under shady trees.
But his thirst does not persuade him to become like those comfortable ones: for where there are oases, there are also idols.
Hungry, fierce, lonesome, God-forsaken: so does the lion-will wish itself.
Free from the happiness of slaves, redeemed from deities and adorations, fearless and fear-inspiring, grand and lonesome: so is the will of the conscientious.
In the wilderness have ever dwelt the conscientious, the free spirits, as lords of the wilderness; but in the cities dwell the well-foddered, famous wise ones- the draught-beasts.
