ones!- you who are pictures of all that has ever been believed!
Perambulating refutations are you, of belief itself, and a dislocation of all thought. Untrustworthy ones: thus do I call you, you real ones!
All periods prate against one another in your spirits; and the dreams and pratings of all periods were even realer than your awakeness!
Unfruitful are you: therefore do you lack belief. But he who had to create, had always his presaging dreams and astral premonitions- and believed in believing!-
Half-open doors are you, at which grave-diggers wait. And this is your reality: "Everything deserves to perish."
Alas, how you stand there before me, you unfruitful ones; how lean your ribs! And many of you surely have had knowledge thereof.
Many a one has said: "There has surely a God filched something from me secretly whilst I slept? enough to make a girl for himself therefrom!
"Amazing is the poverty of my ribs!" thus has spoken many a present-day man.
Yes, you are laughable to me, you present-day men! And especially when you marvel at yourselves!
And woe to me if I could not laugh at your marvelling, and had to swallow all that is repugnant in your platters!
As it is, however, I will make lighter of you, since I have to carry what is heavy; and what matter if beetles and May-bugs also alight on my load!
It shall not on that account become heavier to me! And not from you, you present-day men, shall my great weariness arise.-
Ah, where shall I now ascend with my longing! From all mountains do I look out for fatherlands and motherlands.
