436 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA, IV
How once thou thirstedst
For heavenly tears and the dropping of dew,
How thou thirstedst, scorched and weary,
Whilst on yellow grass-paths
Wicked evening-like sun-glances
Ran round thee through black trees,
Blinding malicious glances of sun-glow ?
' The suitor of truth ? Thou ? ' Thus they mocked.
' Nay ! Merely a poet !
An animal, a cunning, preying, stealing one,
Which must lie,
Which must lie, consciously, voluntarily,
Longing for prey,
Disguised in many colours,
A mask unto itself,
A prey unto itself.
That the suitor of truth?
Only a fool ! a poet !
Only a speaker in many colours,
Speaking in many colours out of fools' masks,
Stalking about on deceitful word bridges,
On deceitful rain-bows,
Between false heavens
Wandering, stealing about
Only a fool ! a poet !
That the suitor of truth? Not still, numb, smooth, cold,
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