when you stood in the forest, irresolute, ignorant where to go, beside a corpse:-
-When you spoke: 'Let my animals lead me! More dangerous have I found it among men than among animals:'- That was forsakenness!
And do you remember, O Zarathustra? When you sat in your isle, a well of wine giving and granting amongst empty buckets, giving and distributing amongst the thirsty:
-Until at last you alone sat thirsty amongst the drunken ones, and wailed nightly: 'Is taking not more blessed than giving? And stealing yet more blessed than taking?'- That was forsakenness!
And do you remember, O Zarathustra? When your still hour came and drove you forth from yourself, when with wicked whispering it said: 'Speak and perish!'-
-When it disgusted you with all your waiting and silence, and discouraged your humble courage: That was forsakenness!"-
O solitude! My home, solitude! How blessedly and tenderly speaks your voice to me!
We do not question each other, we do not complain to each other; we go together openly through open doors.
For all is open with you and clear; and even the hours run here on lighter feet. For in the dark, time weighs heavier upon one than in the light.
Here fly open to me all beings' words and word-cabinets: here all being wants to become words, here all becoming wants to learn of me how to talk.
Down there, however- all talking is in vain! There, forgetting and passing-by are the best wisdom: that have I learned now!