About free will, Deadlines and the inexorable Laws of Existence. V.A

Thirty-three freaks. Collection Ivanov Vyacheslav Ivanovich

WILL

Dedicated Sergei Gorodetsky (69)

Alena Simkina's child was supposed to be born around this time.

As a child, I carried potatoes with her, on her mother’s cart, from the dirty autumn fields, quietly running away from my governess. Now we were both eighteen years old. Last spring she married her peer and orphan Simkin in Shirokovo.

We didn’t see each other as girls, but I heard about her wedding and now about the expected birth from Marya Frantsevna, a paramedic, with whom I was in love with the awe of poetry and admiration - tireless, tall, with a bright, feminine smile on her courageous face.

This morning something pushed me to go to Alena. I collected a bundle of old linen for undershirts and sheets for the child who was waiting for her and dragged it myself to the stable, so that I could personally hurry Fyodor with the bookmark.

But Fyodor was not at home: he was passing (70) a new four with the groom. I had to bring my Cossack from the stall myself and put him in the charabanc.

Warm and businesslike, I jumped into the carriage, throwing my bundle into it, and drove the Cossack out of the barn. The horseshoes clattered, and the wheels rolled out loudly along the planks onto the rubble-choked road.

The spring grove shone through like pale yellow lace. The earth, swollen and rich, sent up the first rays of green herbs. The ringing birds were in a hurry. It was spacious. It smelled of roots, steamy leaf humus, resinous, squirting buds and somehow wonderfully and prematurely sweet buttercups.

The grove is over. A gray village began to appear, flooded with sparkling silver puddles. Then a single-track country road cut a narrow straight line through black fields, brown fields (71) and bright green stripes of low winter seedlings.

It was empty, spacious; A fragrant wind blew widely, and over the nakedness of the black, breathing earth, a sharply burning sun sparkled in a very distant empty sky. I wanted heroism and love. I let go of the reins, stopped controlling the Cossack, and my charabanc swayed, diving from bump to bump on the unsteady track. I was thrown all over the place, and it was good.

I wanted achievement and love. Feat is the sacrifice of your life, and love is passion. And all this is together now.

She pressed her eyelids over her eyes. Eyelashes met, fluttering. Then the entire expanse of spring began to shine, and all my will rushed along radiant paths to the ultimate arc, where in the distant distance black-blue forests met with the empty blue of the sky. And everything became possible and mine. And this is what I have never forgotten, how my heart became merciless and my will inexorable, like a drawn bowstring.

A push... It was as if it hit me in the back, and my chest collided with the front of the charabanc. My horse thrashed chest-deep in liquid mud, and the spring slurry poured through my legs over the sunken wheels.

Of course, these streams are in front of Shirokov every spring! This is where Semyon drowned to death last spring. They flood in the spring. The earth does not hold in the spring, like an abyss quagmire. Makes way.

The Cossack is fighting. Standing in a charabanc, ankle-deep in the mud, I hold the reins high and whoop loudly, wildly, joyfully. And the thought circles in a completely quiet brain: will it take it out, will it not take it out?.. will it take it out, will it not take it out?..

The wheels have moved. They are not visible. Are they floating? Or along the bottom? And the Cossack, his ears bent down, black now, and not bay, now diving with his back, now throwing his croup up, swims? or along the bottom?.. I whoop, choking, towards the evil spring, and through the liquid bottomless mud sparkle, blinding, sharply burning rays.

It knocked. This is a wheel on something hard. The charabanc swung to the other side. Will it capsize? But it didn't capsize. It was taken out.

In Shirokovo, black huts are drowning in the spring abyss. Fourth, fifth, sixth... This is Alena’s hut. The Cossack carefully drags the charabanc onto a brown, slippery grassy mound.

I threw the reins over the fence pole, and I was already in the hallway. The dirty, wet bundle remained in the caravan.

After the dazzling expanse, with difficulty in the half-light I feel for the door bracket.

She pressed and pushed.

There are a lot of women in the hut. They parted.

There is a body on the floor, on the straw. The legs are bent sharply upward with bare knees. The head is thrown back. The face is gray as the earth. The mouth is terribly agape. Gaping.

We don’t know if she died?..

Something is bleating pitifully in the corner.

Three days ago I gave birth. Afterwards everything was on fire. She screamed: “Save me.” And we don’t know what...

Grandmas were toiling to no avail...

Having left for the district...

Marya Frantsevna?

I took Andryusha Kozla to a clinic in the city. They will cut...

And a lot of strange words, but it’s hard to understand how a friend of eighteen years died and became earth...

The hut is dim and stuffy. There are women at the low window. There are women at the huge stove, half the size of the room. And they huddle at the door.

Above the bench, by the window, in a tin frame is Alenino’s mirror. She was so thin and white when they carried potatoes together on her mother Marya’s cart...

I brought the mirror to my black mouth. There is no steam on the ripples of glass: it does not breathe. A face like the earth, without age; like a quagmire, the mouth is black.

Something bleated pitifully in the corner.

She died.

The women turned to the images. Submissive eyes are raised, submissive heads are dropped, submissive crosses are placed widely on the chest and over the shoulders.

My eyes looked disobedient, because my inexorable will was straining like a bowstring inside me. I was expecting heroism and sacrifice.

But she died!

And bending low to the straw, she pressed her eyelids onto the mystery of her immensely amazed eyes...

Where is Simkin?

I haven’t returned from the cab yet...

You go around the streams as a pledge.

Yes, of course: I forgot just now. And I go around the hut, and then I drive through the solidified old fields, where the hooves, slurping, disgustingly smack the brown earth. I hold the reins in my hands, and with my elbow I firmly press the bundle with the tightly swaddled baby to my chest. No one could keep it there. The spring rush is coming.

And again empty and spacious. And the fragrant wind rushes. And under the nakedness of the black breathing earth, a sharply burning sun sparkles in a very distant and empty sky. I want feat and... victory.

They are waiting for me, feat and victory. I will leave this life of contentment and good morals. I will leave my loved ones. I will even leave the Cossack... Forever without my horse, with only one will. From the city, Marya Frantsevna will bring a letter from a friend. He has everything ready there. His brother had already decided to commit suicide. One of these days he will shoot himself, but before that he will marry me to give me freedom from them, here. And then we will unite with a dear friend to accomplish a feat together! All the same, his brother is not a tenant: he has no will. The will does not string the bow of his life. We will pull for him, we will pull for three, we will pull for everyone, we will pull for the whole world! How far away is that arc...

His wife!.. that is, my friend’s wife?

She... Yes, she is not us. Not with us. Behind life... She is like Alena, like a suicidal brother, like a victim without a feat...

O tireless will, strain yourself! If you are dead or dead, I live.

If I have to die, I will die for you, for him, for the world.

Here, death! Life and death are equal to me. Intoxication equals life and death to me.

I live for myself. I'm dying for you.

Sister... myself... my world!

Our manor manager's wife can never give birth. They crushed the baby’s head three times on the fourth day of suffering. And on the third day again.

She was carrying the baby to her full and unnecessary breast.

Oh, dear, dear Verochka, my breasts are not needed!

She told me this yesterday in such a weak whisper and cried so touchingly. She will kiss my hands for the gift and the wrinkled sucker's face.

It bleated pitifully in my bundle.

Something tenderly touched my forehead, tickled my cheek with warmth and shone. Feather! Two fluffs! The wind picked them up and carried them there, somewhere into the emptiness of space.

She raised her head.

The gyrfalcon (72) flutters high in an empty sparkle and does not flutter its wings.

Not his fluff, of course...

Like a spark, it burns in the blue...

Heart, repent towards the rays of the Sun!

You are the strongest heart of the sun, the victorious will, my heart, the heart of the world, cast into the world by God!

We rolled down the hill onto the road on the other side of the streams. I am standing in a charabanc, firmly and softly pressing the bundle with the baby to my chest with my left elbow.

She raised the reins and whoop high.

The Cossack stretched out like an arrow. The Cossack forgot the lynx. The Cossack is a Cossack and rides like an arrow. The charabanc hits the bumps of the unsteady track.

The sucker is silent. The hungry sucker rocked on my swaying chest.

Drunken will of evil spring, I have not forgotten you!

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“Is it so, Lord? Is this your will?..” Is it so, Lord? Is this your will? Are these my words? I walk quietly through a spring field, the grass glistens with dew. My house is gloomy and cramped in silence, How will you enter it? Do you want my new songs, Beggar

- Here I sit and wait; all the old, broken tablets around me, as well as new, half-written ones. When will my time come?

The hour of my descent, my setting: for one more time I want to go to people.

I wait for him now: for signs must precede me first, that my the hour has come - namely, a laughing lion with a flock of doves.

In the meantime, I’m talking to myself, like someone who has time. Nobody tells me anything new, so I tell myself about myself.

2

When I came to the people, I found them frozen in the old conceit: they all imagined that they had long known what was good for a person and what was evil for him.

Any talk about virtue seemed like an old, tiresome thing to them, and whoever wanted to sleep peacefully would also talk about “good” and “evil” before going to bed.

I shook out this drowsiness when I began to teach: no one knows yet, what is good and what is evil - if he himself is not the creator!

But the creator is the one who creates a goal for man and gives the earth its meaning and its future: he is the first creates good and evil for all things.

And I ordered them to overthrow the old pulpits and everything on which this old conceit sat; I told them to laugh at their great teachers of virtue, at their saints and poets, at their saviors of the world.

I told them to laugh at their gloomy sages and at those who had ever sat on the tree of life, like a black scarecrow, warning.

On the edge of their great street of tombs I sat with the carrion and the hawks - and I laughed at their entire past and its rotten, decaying splendor.

Truly, like preachers of repentance and madmen, I expressed my anger at all their great and small - that all their best is so insignificant, that all their worst is so insignificant! - I laughed so much.

My desire for wisdom screamed and laughed inside me, truly, it was born on the mountains, my wild wisdom! - my great melancholy, rustling with its wings.

And often it carried me into the distance, into the heights, amid laughter; then I flew, shuddering like an arrow, through sun-intoxicated delight:

There, into the distant future, which no dream has ever seen, to the hotter south than artists have ever dreamed of: to where the gods, dancing, are ashamed of all kinds of clothes -

So I speak in symbols and, like poets, I stammer and mutter: and truly, I am ashamed that I should still be a poet!

There, where every becoming seemed to me like a divine dance and prank, and the world - set free, unbridled, running back to itself -

Like the eternal flight of many gods from themselves and again a new search for themselves, like a blissful contradiction of themselves, new attention to themselves and the return of many gods to themselves.

Where all time seemed to me to be a blissful mockery of moments, where freedom itself was a necessity, blissfully playing with the sting of freedom.

Where again I found my old demon and sworn enemy, the spirit of gravity, and everything that he created: violence, regulations, necessity, consequence, purpose, will, good and evil. -

Shouldn't things exist? above with which you could dance? Shouldn't moles and heavy dwarfs exist because there is the light and the lightest?

3

There I raised the word “superman” on the road and that man is something that must overcome,

That man is a bridge, not a goal; that he rejoices in his noon and evening as the path leading to new morning dawns:

Zarathustra's word about the great noon, and what else have I hung on man as the second purple evening dawn.

Verily, I gave them to see even new stars and new nights; and over the clouds, day and night, I spread laughter like a colorful tent.

I taught them everything mine thoughts and all aspirations mine: to collect together and carry together everything that is fragmentary, mysterious and terribly random in a person -

As a poet, a guesser and a deliverer from chance, I taught them to be creators of the future and everything that was, - to save by creating.

To save the past in a person and transform everything that “was” until the will says: “But that’s what I wanted! That’s what I want.” -

This is what I called them deliverance; this alone was what I taught them to call deliverance. -

Now I'm waiting his deliverance - to go to them for the last time.

Because also one once I go to people: among I want to die them, and, dying, I want to give them my richest gift!

I learned this from the sun, when it sets, the richest luminary: it pours gold into the sea from its inexhaustible treasuries -

So even the poorest fisherman rows golden paddle! For I saw this once, and while I looked, tears flowed continuously from my eyes. -

Like the sun, Zarathustra also wants to set: now he sits here and waits; around him are old, broken tablets, as well as new ones, half written on.

4

Look, here is a new tablet; but where are my brothers who, together with me, will carry it into the valley and into the hearts of flesh?

This is what my great love for those who are farthest says: do not spare your neighbor. Man is something that must be overcome.

There are many ways and ways to overcome - look for them myself! But only the buffoon thinks: “Through a person you can jump over».

Overcome yourself even in your neighbor: and the right that you can win for yourself, you must not allow to be given to you!

What you do, no one can compensate you for it. Know that there is no retribution.

He who cannot command himself must obey. Others can command themselves, but they still lack a lot to be able to obey themselves!

5

This is how the character of noble souls wants it: they do not want to have anything for nothing, least of all life.

He who is from the crowd wants to live for nothing; we are others who have been given life - we constantly think, What could we give better in trade for for her!

And truly noble is that speech which says: “What promises us life, We We want to do it for life!”

There is no need to seek pleasure where there is no place for pleasure. And it is not necessary want enjoy!

For pleasure and innocence are the most shameful things: they do not want to be sought for. We need them have, - But search We need more guilt and suffering! -

6

O my brothers, whoever is the firstborn is always sacrificed. And we are now the firstborn.

We all bleed on secret altars, we all burn and roast in honor of the old idols.

Our best is still young; it irritates the old palate. Our meat is tender, our skin is only the skin of a lamb - how can we not irritate the old idolatry priests!

In ourselves He still lives, the old idol priest, he roasts our best for his feast. Ah, my brothers, how can the firstborn not be a victim!

But this is how our race wants it; and I love those who are not looking to save themselves. I love those who are perishing with all my love: for they cross over to the other side. -

7

Be truthful - can few! And who can, does not want more! But least of all can they be good.

Oh, these good ones! - Good people never tell the truth; For a spirit to be so kind is a disease.

They yield, these good ones, they submit, their heart echoes, their mind obeys: but whoever obeys, he doesn't listen to himself!

Everything that the good call evil must unite in order to be born. united truth, - oh my brothers, are you evil enough to this truth?

Desperate boldness, long mistrust, cruel denial, satiety, cutting into life - as rarely happens This together. But from such a seed the truth is born!

Near with a guilty conscience everything has grown so far knowledge! Break, break, you knowers, the old tablets!

8

When the logs are in the water, when bridges and railings are thrown over the river, truly, they will not believe it if someone then says: “Everything flows.”

Even the bumpkins will contradict him. "How? - the hulks will say, - is everything flowing? After all, the beams and railings are thrown above by the river!

« Above everything is strong through the river, all the values of things, bridges, concepts, all “good” and “evil” - all this tightly!» -

And when harsh winter comes, the tamer of rivers, then the scoffers begin to doubt; and truly, it’s not only the bumpkins who say then: “Isn’t that all - calmly?»

“At the core, everything is calm” - this is the true teaching of winter, convenient for barren times, a good consolation for those hibernating in winter and stove beds.

“Everything is fundamentally calm” - but Against this says the wind in the thaw!

The wind in the thaw is a bull, but not a plowing one, but a mad bull, a destroyer, breaking the ice with its angry horns! Ice is breaks the bridge!

Oh my brothers, isn't that all it's flowing now? Didn't all the railings and bridges fall into the water? Who will hold on also for “good” and “evil”?

“Woe to us! Good for us! A warm wind blew!” - so preach, my brothers, in all the streets!

9

There is an old madness called good and evil. The wheel of this madness still revolved around the soothsayers and astrologers.

Once believed in soothsayers and astrologers; And That's why They believed: “Everything is fate: you must, because it is necessary!”

Then they again began to distrust all soothsayers and astrologers; And That's why believed: “Everything is freedom: you can, because you want!”

O my brothers, until now we have only dreamed of the stars and the future, but did not know them; And That's why Until now we only dreamed about good and evil, but did not know them!

10

“You must not rob! You must not kill! - such words were once called sacred; they bowed their knees and heads before them, and approached them, taking off their shoes.

But I ask you: when were there more robbers and murderers in the world, if not when these words were especially sacred?

Isn't there robbery and murder in life itself? And to consider these words sacred, doesn’t it mean to kill yourself? the truth?

11

I feel sorry for the whole past, because I see that it was given up to arbitrariness, -

Left to the mercy of the mercy, spirit and madness of each generation, which comes and interprets everything that was as a bridge for itself!

A great tyrant may come, a crafty monster who, with his mercy and his disfavor, will rape the entire past - until it becomes for him a bridge, a sign, a herald and the crowing of a rooster.

But here is another danger and my other regret: the memory of those who are from the crowd does not go further than the grandfather - and time ends with the grandfather.

And so the whole past is given up to arbitrariness: for it may someday happen that the crowd will become master, and will drown in shallow water at any time.

Therefore, oh my brothers, we need new know, the opponent of everything that is every crowd and every despotism, the nobility who will again write the word “noble” on new tablets.

For it takes many nobles, and many kinds of nobles, to came to know! Or, as I once said in a symbol, “divinity lies in the fact that there are gods, and not God!”

12

O my brothers, I welcome you into a new nobility: you must become creators and educators - sowers of the future -

Truly, it is not worth knowing what you, as traders, could buy with the gold of traders: for there is little value in everything that has its own price.

From now on, let it not be where you come from that will be your honor, but where you are going! Let your will and your steps, going further than yourself, be your new honor from now on!

Truly, it’s not what you served the prince - what do princes mean now! - or that you were a stronghold for what stands, so that it could stand stronger!

It’s not that your family at the courts became courtiers and you learned, colorful as flamingos, to stand for hours in shallow ponds.

For skill standing is a merit of the courtiers; and all the courtiers believe that happiness after death belongs to - permission to sit down! -

Nor is it that the spirit whom they call holy led your ancestors to the promised lands, which I do not promise; for where the worst of all trees has grown - the cross - there is nothing to praise in such a land!

And truly, wherever this “holy spirit” led his knights, they always fled ahead Such processions are goats and geese, madmen and lunatics! -

O my brothers, your nobility should not look back, but forward! You must be exiles from the country of your fathers and forefathers!

The country of your children you must love: let this love be your new nobility - a country not yet discovered, lying in the most distant seas! And let your sails search and search for it!

You should be your children redeem that you are the children of your fathers: you must save the whole past this way! I place this new tablet over you!

13

“Why live? Everything is vanity! To live is to thresh straw; to live is to burn yourself and still not get warm.” -

This old chatter is still passed for "wisdom"; for that Because she is old and smells musty, they respect her even more. Even mold improves. -

Children could say this: they afraid fire, for it burned them! There is a lot of childishness in the old books of wisdom.

And who always “threshes straw”, what right does he have to blaspheme threshing! Such fools should be gagged!

They sit down at the table and bring nothing with them, not even healthy hunger; and so they blaspheme: “Everything is vanity!”

But eating well and drinking well, O my brothers, this is truly not a vain art! Break, break the tablets of those who never rejoice!

14

“To the pure everything is pure” - this is what the people say. But I tell you: for pigs, everything turns into a pig!

Therefore, the frenzied and holy ones, whose hearts even droop, preach: “The world itself is a dirty monster.”

For they are all not pure in spirit; especially those who find neither peace nor rest except by seeing the world behind, - and otherworlders!

Them I say to your face, although it does not sound kind: the world is similar to a person in that it also has a back part - and only so It's right!

There is a lot of dirt in the world - and only that much is true! But that is why the world itself is not yet a dirty monster!

There is wisdom in the fact that much in the world smells bad - but disgust itself creates wings and forces that guess the sources!

Even in the best there is something disgusting; and even the best man is something that must be overcome!

O my brothers, there is a lot of wisdom in the fact that there is a lot of dirt in the world!

15

I heard how pious otherworlders spoke to their conscience, and truly, without malice and lies, although there is nothing more deceitful and evil in the world.

“Let the world be the world! Don’t even raise your little finger against him!”

“Let whoever wants to strangle and stab people and tear off their skin - don’t even raise your little finger against him! Thus they will learn to renounce the world.” “And your own mind - you must strangle it yourself: for it is the mind of this world - so you yourself will learn to renounce the world.” -

Break, break, O my brothers, these old tablets of the pious! Dispel the words of those slandering the world!

16

“Whoever studies a lot unlearns every strong desire” - this is what they whisper today on all the dark streets.

“Wisdom tires, nothing is rewarded; you must not wish!” - I found this new tablet hanging even in the market squares.

Break, oh my brothers, break this one too new tablet! Weary of the world, the preachers of death and the jailers hanged her: for, look, this is also a sermon calling for slavery!

For they learned badly, and far from the best, and everything was too early and everything was too soon: for they ate, and that's why they got this spoiled stomach,

For a spoiled stomach is their spirit: He advises death! For truly, my brothers, the spirit There is stomach!

Life is a spring of joy; but in whom the spoiled stomach, the father of sorrow, speaks, for him all the springs are poisoned.

To know is joy for the one in whom the will of the lion is! But whoever is tired, he himself becomes only an “object of the will”; all the waves play with him.

And this always happens with weak people: they get lost in their ways. And finally, fatigue still asks them: “Why did we once walk along the roads? It’s the same everywhere!”

Them It’s nice to hear people preach: “Nothing is rewarded! You must not wish!” But this is a sermon calling for slavery.

O my brothers, like a breath of fresh wind Zarathustra comes to all who are tired of their journey; He will make many noses sneeze!

Even through walls my free breath penetrates, enters prisons and captive minds!

“To want” liberates: for to want means to create, - So I teach. AND only to create you must study!

And you should even learn from me first learn, good to learn! - He who has ears, let him hear!

17

The boat is ready - on the other side you will find yourself, perhaps, in the great Nothingness. - But who wants to enter into this “maybe”?

None of you want to join the death boat! How would you like to be then? world-weary!

Tired of the world! You haven't even renounced the earth yet! I always found you lustful towards the earth, still in love with your own weariness with the earth!

It’s not for nothing that your lip hangs down: a small earthly desire is still sitting on it! And isn’t there a cloud of unforgotten earthly joy floating in your eye?

There are many good inventions on earth, some useful, others pleasant; for their sake it is worth loving the earth.

And many inventions are so good that they are like a woman's breasts - both useful and pleasant.

And you, tired of the world and lazy! You must be whipped with rods! With blows of the rod we must return your quick legs.

For - if you are not sick and obsolete creatures from whom the earth is tired, then you are cunning sloths or thieving, lurking, lustful cats. And if you don't want to have fun again run, you must - disappear!

You should not want to be a doctor to the incurable - this is what Zarathustra teaches - so you must disappear!

But we need more courage in order to put an end to it, than in order to sit through a new verse - all doctors and poets know this.

18

O my brothers, there are tablets created by fatigue, and tablets created by rotten laziness - although they speak alike, they want to be heard differently. -

Look at this thirsty one! Only one inch still separates him from his goal, but from fatigue he lay down here stubbornly in the dust - this brave man!

From fatigue he yawns at the path, at the ground, at the goal and at himself: he does not want to take a single step further - this brave man!

And so the sun beats down on him, and the dogs lick his sweat; but he lies here in his stubbornness and prefers to languish with thirst -

At a distance of a span from your goal, languish with thirst! And, truly, you will still have to drag him by the hair to his heaven - this hero!

oh, even better, leave him lying where he lay down, so that a comforting sleep will come to him with the sound of refreshing rain.

Leave him lying there until he himself wakes up - until he himself renounces all fatigue and everything that fatigue taught him!

Just, my brothers, drive away the dogs, the lazy swindlers and all the noisy rabble from him -

The whole noisy rabble of “cultured” people who feast on the sweat of heroes!

19

I close circles around myself and sacred boundaries; Fewer and fewer climb with me to ever higher mountains; I am building a spine of ever more sacred mountains. -

And in volume his skill is that in rising souls he guesses where they are tired; in your grief and discontent, in your tender modesty, he builds his disgusting nest.

The soul is the most extensive, which can run far, wander and rush about within itself; the most necessary thing, which throws itself into chance for the sake of pleasure -

The existing soul, which plunges into becoming; property, which wants to enter into will and desire, -

Running away from itself and catching up with itself in wide circles; the wisest soul, which madness quietly invites to itself, -

20

O my brothers, am I cruel? But I say: what falls, you still need to push!

Everything that is from today falls and disintegrates; who would want to keep him! But I am me Want still push him!

Do you know the pleasure of rolling stones into sheer depths? - These modern people: look at them, how they slide into my depths!

I am only a prelude for the best players, oh my brothers! Example! Do according to my example!

And whoever you don’t teach to fly, teach him - fall faster!

21

I love the brave; but it’s not enough to be a fighter - you also need to know whom chop!

And there is often more courage in holding on and passing by - and this save yourself for a more worthy enemy!

You should only have enemies that you would hate, and not ones that you would despise. You must be proud of your enemy, that’s what I taught once already.

For a more worthy enemy you must take care of yourself, O my friends; therefore you must pass by a lot, -

Especially past the numerous rabble screaming in your ears about people and nations.

Keep your eyes clear of their pros and cons! There is a lot of fairness there, a lot of unfairness: whoever looks there is indignant.

Peeking in and cutting down is a matter of one minute: so go into the forests and sheathe your sword!

Go their roads! And let the people and nations go their own way! - truly, dark roads, not illuminated by any single hope!

Let the merchant reign where all that still glitters is the merchant’s gold! The time of kings has passed: what is called the people today does not deserve kings.

Look how these peoples now themselves imitate the traders: they pick up the slightest profit from all sorts of rubbish!

They lie in wait for each other, they look out for something from each other - they call this “good neighborliness.” O blessed distant time, when the people said to themselves: “I want to be above the nations.” Mr.!»

For, my brothers, the best must rule, the best and wants dominate! And where the teaching says otherwise, there - No the best.

22

If these- they had bread for nothing, alas! what would they shout about They! Their food is the real food for their conversations; and let it be difficult for them to get it!

They are predatory animals: in their word “work” one also hears rob, in their word “earn” one also hears outwitness! Therefore, let it be difficult for them to get it!

So they should become better beasts of prey, more cunning, more intelligent, more human-like: for man is the best beast of prey.

Man has already robbed all animals of their virtues; Therefore, of all the animals, it is most difficult for man to obtain food.

Only the birds are taller than him. And if a person also learned to fly, alas! - wherever his rapacity did not fly!

23

I want to see a man and a woman: one capable of war, the other capable of bearing children, but both capable of dancing with their heads and feet.

And let the day be lost for us when never We didn't dance! And let every truth that does not have laughter be called false!

24

The conclusion of your marriages: be careful that it doesn’t turn out bad conclusion! You concluded too quickly: from here should- desecration of marriage!

And it’s better to desecrate a marriage than to bend a marriage, to deceive a marriage! - one woman told me: “Yes, I desecrated the marriage, but first the marriage desecrated me!”

I have always found bad spouses to be the most vindictive: they take revenge on the whole world because they can no longer go on their own.

Therefore, I want honest people to say to each other: “We love each other; We'll see, can we continue to love each other! Or will our promise be an oversight?”

- “Give us a term and a short union, so that we can see whether we are suitable for a long union! It’s a great thing to always be together!”

This is what I advise everyone who is honest; and what would my love for the superman and for everything that is to come be, if I advised and spoke differently!

Grow not only in breadth, but also up- O my brothers, may the garden of marriage help you!

25

Whoever is wise in old sources, look, he will eventually look for the springs of the future and new sources. -

O my brothers, it won’t be long before they arise new peoples, and new springs will rustle, falling into new depths.

For an earthquake fills up many wells and creates many who are thirsty; but it also brings to light inner forces and secrets.

An earthquake opens new springs. When old nations are shaken, new springs burst forth.

And who then exclaims: “Look, here is one spring for many who are thirsty, unified a heart for many who are yearning, united the will for many weapons,” - gathers around him people, i.e. there are many testers.

Who knows how to command, who must obey - it's being tested there! Oh, what a long search, success and failure, study and new attempts!

Human society: this is an attempt, so I teach, a long search; but it seeks a commander! - attempt, oh my brothers! But Not"agreement"! Break, break this word of soft and indecisive hearts and half-hearted people!

26

O my brothers! In whom lies the greatest danger for the entire human future? Is it not in the good and righteous?

Is it not in those who say and feel in their hearts: “We already know what is good and what is righteous, we have achieved this; woe to those who are still searching here!”

And no matter what harm the evil ones cause, the harm of the good is the most harmful harm!

And whatever harm the slanderers have caused to the world, the harm of the good is the most harmful harm.

O my brothers, in the hearts of the good and righteous there once appeared the one who then said: “These are the Pharisees.” But they didn’t understand him.

The kindest and most righteous were not supposed to understand him; their spirit is captured by their clear conscience. The stupidity of the good is inscrutably clever.

But here's the truth: kind must to be Pharisees - they have no other choice!

Kind must crucify him who finds his own virtue! This- the truth!

The second who discovered their country, the country, heart and land of the good and righteous, was the one who then asked: “Whom do they hate most?”

Creator They hate most of all: the one who breaks the tablets and old values, the destroyer - whom they call a criminal.

Because the good ones - can not create: they are always the beginning of the end

they crucify the one who writes new values on new tablets, they bring to myself sacrificing the future

They crucify the entire human future!

The good ones were always the beginning of the end.

27

O my brothers, have you also understood this word? And what did I once say about the “last man”? -

In whom lies the greatest danger for the entire human future? Is it not in the good and righteous?

Break, break the good and the righteous! - O my brothers, did you also understand this word?

28

Are you running from me? Are you scared? Do you tremble at this word?

O my brothers, when I ordered you to break the good and the tablets of the good, then for the first time I let a man sail on his open sea.

And now only great fear, great caution, great illness, great disgust, great seasickness sets in for him.

The good ones have shown you deceptive shores and false security; You were born into the lies of the good and shrouded in it. The good ones have perverted and distorted everything to the very foundation.

But whoever discovered the land of “man” also discovered the land of “human future”. Now you must be sailors, brave and patient!

Walk upright on time, O my brothers, learn to walk upright!

The sea is stormy; many need you to rise again. The sea is stormy: everyone is at sea. Well! forward! you old hearts of sailors!

What do you care about your homeland! There our ship is heading where country of children ours! There, in the vastness, more furiously than the sea, our great melancholy rages! -

Thus spoke Zarathustra

29

“Why so hard! - charcoal once said to the diamond. “Aren’t we close relatives?” -

Why so soft? O my brothers, so I ask you: are you not my brothers?

Why are they so soft, so submissive and compliant? Why is there so much denial and renunciation in your heart? Is there so little rock in your gaze?

And if you don’t want to be fatal and inflexible, how can you ever, together with me, win?

And if your hardness does not want to sparkle and cut and dissect, how can you ever create with me?

All creators are solid. And it should seem like bliss to you to lay your hand on millennia, like on wax, -

It is bliss to write on the will of thousands of years, as on bronze - harder than bronze, nobler than bronze. Only the noblest is absolutely firm.

This new tablet, O my brothers, I give to you: stand hard!

30

O my will! You are the avoidance of all troubles, you are the inevitability my! Protect me from all small victories!

You are the lot of my soul, which I call fate! You are inside me! Above me! Protect and save me for single great destiny!

And save your last greatness, oh my will, for the end, so that you will be inexorable V your victory! Ah, who did not submit to his victory!

Ah, whose eye did not darken in this intoxicating twilight! Ah, whose foot did not stumble and did not forget how to stand in victory!

May I be ready and ripe at the great noon: ready and ripe, like white-hot copper, like a cloud pregnant with lightning, and like an udder swollen with milk, -

Ready for yourself and for your deepest will: like a bow flaming towards its arrow, like an arrow flaming towards its star;

Like a star, ready and ripe at midday, blazing, pierced, blissful before the destroying arrows of the sun;

Like the sun itself and its inexorable will, ready to be destroyed in victory!

O will, avoidance of all troubles, you are inevitability my! Save me for single great victory!

Thus spoke Zarathustra.

Recovering

1

One morning, soon after returning to the cave, Zarathustra jumped up from his bed like a madman, began shouting in a terrible voice, waving his arms, as if someone was lying on the bed and did not want to get up; and Zarathustra’s voice thundered so loudly that his animals, frightened, ran to him, and from all the holes and crevices adjacent to Zarathustra’s cave, all the animals fled, flying away, crawling and jumping, whatever legs and wings were given to them. Zarathustra said this:

Arise, bottomless thought, come out of my depths! I am your rooster and your morning twilight, sleepy worm: get up! get up! my voice will wake you up!

Break the bonds of your hearing: listen! Because I want to hear you! Get up! Get up! There's enough thunder here to make the graves listen!

Wipe away sleep, and also all myopia, all blindness from your eyes! Listen to me even with your eyes: my voice is medicine even for those born blind.

And when you wake up, you will remain awake forever. Not that's how it is I want to wake up my great-grandmothers from sleep and tell them to continue sleeping!

Are you moving, stretching and wheezing? Get up! Get up! Don't wheeze - you must speak! Zarathustra is calling you, godless one!

I, Zarathustra, protector of life, protector of suffering, protector of the circle - I call you, the deepest of my thoughts!

Good for me! You're coming - I hear you! My abyss speaks, I brought my last depth to light!

Good for me! Go! Give me your hand - ha! let me go! Ha, ha - disgust! disgust! disgust! - woe is me!

2

But as soon as Zarathustra said these words, he fell dead and remained as if dead for a long time. Having come to his senses, he was pale, trembling, continued to lie and for a long time did not want to eat or drink. This state lasted for seven days; his animals did not leave him day or night, and only the eagle flew away to bring food. And everything that he found and that he happened to take by force, he put on Zarathustra’s bed: so that Zarathustra finally lay among yellow and red berries, among grapes, rose apples, fragrant herbs and cedar cones. At his feet lay two lambs, which the eagle with difficulty took from their shepherds.

Finally, after seven days, Zarathustra rose from his bed, took a rose apple in his hand, smelled it and found its smell pleasant. Then his animals thought that the time had come to speak to him.

“O Zarathustra,” they said, “for seven days now you have been lying with your eyes closed; don't you want to finally get back on your feet?

Come out of your cave: the world awaits you like a garden. The wind plays with a heavy fragrance that asks to come to you; and all the streams would like to run after you.

All things yearn for you, why did you remain alone for seven days - come out of your cave! All things want to be your doctors!

Has new knowledge descended upon you, bitter and heavy? Like soured dough, you lay there, your soul rose and swelled beyond its limits.”

O my beasts, answered Zarathustra, continue to chatter and let me listen to you! Your chatter refreshes me: where they chat, the world already spreads out before me like a garden.

How nice it is that there are words and sounds: aren’t words and sounds like rainbows and ghostly bridges spanning everything that is separated forever?

Each soul has a special world; for every soul, every other soul is the other world.

It is only between the most similar that the ghost is most deceptive: for it is most difficult to bridge over the smallest gap.

For me - how would anything exist outside of me? There is nothing outside of us! But we forget this at every sound; and how gratifying it is that we forget!

Are names and sounds not given to things so that man can be refreshed by things? Talking is a beautiful madness: speaking, man dances above all things.

How pleasant is all speech and all false sounds! Thanks to the sounds, our love dances on colorful rainbows.

“O Zarathustra,” the animals said to this, “for those who think like us, all things dance on their own: everything comes, gives each other a hand, laughs and runs away - and returns again.

Everything goes, everything returns; The wheel of existence rotates forever. Everything dies, everything blooms again, the year of existence runs forever.

Everything perishes, everything is restored; the same house of existence is eternally being built. Everything separates, everything greets each other again; the ring of being always remains true to itself.

In every moment being begins; around every “here” there rolls a “there”. The center is everywhere. The curve is the path of eternity.”

O you pranksters and organ-organs! - Zarathustra answered and smiled again. - How well do you know what was to be fulfilled in seven days -

And somehow that monster crawled into my throat and choked me! But I bit off his head and spat it far away from me.

And you - have you already made a street song out of it? And I lie here, not yet recovered from this biting and spitting, still sick from my own deliverance.

And have you looked at all this? O my beasts, are you also cruel? Did you really want to look at my great suffering, as people do? For man is the most cruel of all animals.

During tragedies, bullfights and crucifixions, he was still at his best on earth; and when he found hell for himself, hell became his heaven on earth.

When a big man shouts, the little one immediately runs up to him; and his tongue hangs out of his mouth with pleasure. But he calls it his “compassion.”

A little man, especially a poet, with what ardor he accuses life in words! Listen to him, but do not listen to the joy in all his complaints!

These are the accusers of life: they are defeated by life in an instant. "Do you love me? - says the bold one. “Wait a little, I don’t have time for you yet.”

Man is to himself the most cruel animal; and in everything that is called “sinner”, “cross-bearer” and “repentant”, do not listen to the joy mixed with these complaints and accusations!

And I myself - don’t I want to be a person’s accuser? Ah, my animals, I have learned only one thing so far, that a person needs his worst for his own best,

That all the evil is his best force and the hardest stone for the highest creator; and that a person should become better And angrier:

Not for that I was nailed to the tree of torment, that I know that man is angry, but because I shouted as no one had ever shouted:

“Ah, his worst evil is so insignificant! Oh, his best is so insignificant!

Great disgust for man - it choked me and crawled down my throat; and what the soothsayer predicted: “It doesn’t matter, nothing is rewarded, knowledge is stifled.”

The long twilight stretched before me, deathly tired, drunk to death sadness, which said, yawning loudly:

“The person you are tired of, little man, always returns,” - so my sadness yawned, stretched and could not fall asleep.

The human earth turned into a cave for me, its chest collapsed, everything living became for me human rot, bones and ruins of the past.

My sighs sat on all human graves and could not get up; my sighs and questions croaked, choked, squabbled and complained day and night:

- “Ah, man always returns! The little man always comes back!”

I once saw both naked, the largest and the smallest man: they are too similar to each other - even the largest man is still too human!

The biggest one is too small! - It was my disgust for man! And the eternal return of even the smallest person! - This was my hostility to all existence!

Ah, disgust! disgust! disgust! - Thus spoke Zarathustra, sighing and trembling, for he remembered his illness. But then the animals did not allow him to continue.

“Stop talking, O convalescent one! - this is how his animals answered him. - Leave here and go to where the world awaits you, like a garden.

Go to the roses, bees and flocks of doves! Especially to songbirds, to learn from them sing!

For singing is characteristic of those who are convalescing; Let the healthy one speak. And even if a healthy person wants songs, he wants different songs than a recovering person.”

Oh, you pranksters and organ-organs, shut up! - answered Zarathustra and laughed at the speech of his animals. - How well do you know what consolation I found for myself in these seven days!

I need to sing again - This consolation and This I found recovery for myself; Don’t you want to immediately make a street song out of this too?

“Stop talking,” his animals answered him a second time, “better, O convalescent one, make yourself a lyre, a new lyre!”

For you see, O Zarathustra! For your new songs you need a new lyre.

Sing and make noise, O Zarathustra, heal your soul with new songs: so that you can bear your great destiny, which has not yet been the destiny of a single person!

For your beasts know well, O Zarathustra, who you are and what you must become; Look, you are the teacher of eternal return, - in this now your appointment!

You must be the first to announce This teaching - and how could this great destiny not also be your greatest danger and illness!

Look, we know what you teach: that all things eternally return, and we ourselves along with them, and that we have already existed an infinite number of times and all things along with us.

You teach that there is a great year of formation, a monstrously great year: it must, like an hourglass, forever turn again, in order to flow anew and become empty again -

So all these years are like themselves, in big and small ways, so that we ourselves, in every great year, are like ourselves, in big and small ways.

And if you wanted to die now, O Zarathustra, look, we also know how you would then speak to yourself; but your animals ask you not to die yet.

You would speak fearlessly, sighing several times with bliss: for great heaviness and despondency would be lifted from you, O most patient one!

“Now I die and disappear,” you would say, “and in a moment I will be nothing. Souls are as mortal as bodies.

But the connection of causality in which I am woven will return again - it will create me again! I myself belong to the causes of eternal recurrence.

I will return again with this sun, with this earth, with this eagle, with this snake - Not to a new life Not to a better life Not to a life similar to the previous one:

I will return eternally to the same life, in great and small ways, to teach again the eternal return of all things,

To repeat the word about the great noon of earth and man, to again proclaim to people about the superman.

I said my word, I am broken on my word: this is how my eternal destiny wants it - as a herald, I perish!

The hour has come when the dying person blesses himself. So - ends sunset of Zarathustra."

Having said this, the animals fell silent and waited for Zarathustra to answer them something; but Zarathustra did not hear that they were silent. He lay quietly, with his eyes closed, as if sleeping, although he was not asleep: for at that time he was talking with his soul. The snake and the eagle, seeing him so silent, respected the great silence around him and retired carefully.

In support of the International Center of the Roerichs

N.K. Roerich Human affairs. 1914

In addition to the already known threat of flooding part of the land from melting glaciers as a result of global warming, there is another hidden threat that is discussed only by very narrow specialists. It consists of an additional rise in the level of the world's oceans as a result of the filling of deep-sea trenches with magma.

“The greatest earthly cataclysms occurred from underwater breakthroughs. Let us not forget that if the above-ground peaks reach thirty thousand feet, then the underwater gorges even exceed these measures. One can imagine the process at a distance of seventy thousand feet. The disappearance of lakes is not so dangerous, but one should be wary of rising water levels. The Earth experienced the same fate several times, but people do not think on a planetary scale. Now you can notice some similarities with past events. The imbalance of fires and waters will be the subject of deep observation. Some will think, and many will scoff.” (MO, part 2, 207)

The most famous Mariana Trench reaches a depth of 11 km with a length of 1340 km. There are more than a dozen similar gutters in total. Judging by the impressive total volume of deep-sea trenches, which amounts to several million cubic kilometers, the rise in ocean water levels can also be impressive. If we take the total volume of the trenches to be 4 million km 3, which is much less than it actually is, then when this volume is filled with magma, the level of the world's oceans will rise by 10 m. Let there be partial filling, but even a rise in sea level by 1 meter is catastrophic for island states and coastal cities.

Why might these trenches fill with magma? The answer is quite simple - as a result of a decrease in the thickness of the earth's crust in general and the oceanic crust in particular. This process has been going on for many years, and confirmation of this can be seen in the increasing number of earthquakes. Before World War I there were days without earthquakes at all. We now live on a constantly shaking Earth. If in 2010 earthquakes with a magnitude above 4 points occurred 5-6 times a day, then in 2016-2017 they occur 12-15 times, and earthquakes with a magnitude less than 4 points - more than 100 times a day. Every year there are about 50,000 earthquakes on Earth that are intense enough to be noticed without the help of instruments.

The oceanic crust is very thin, only 3-10 km thick. It is natural to assume that the thinnest oceanic crust is at the bottom of the trenches. The way it is. It is there that the crust is thinnest, and with a further decrease in its thickness, the bottom of the trench may melt through and fill its volume with magma. Whether the filling is partial or complete, it doesn’t matter. It is important that this can happen, hence the likelihood that the filling will continue.

A further decrease in the thickness of the earth's crust will entail more serious consequences. The number of powerful destructive earthquakes will increase. Known ancient volcanoes and unknown ancient ones will begin to awaken. As melted snowdrifts, the continents will begin to subside in those parts where this process is more active. The last large island of the Atlanteans, Poseidonis, about 12 thousand years ago, went under the water with a roar, is an example of this. The High Prophecies say that the British Isles are first on the list to suffer a similar fate, followed by France and America.

What is the reason for these processes? The reason is the very low level of consciousness of humanity. The thinking of humanity as a whole is so low that it seems that the animal kingdom is beginning to bypass it in this regard. The Earth's aura, the state of which directly depends on the quality of humanity's thinking, has turned from a once golden yellow to a disgusting dirty brown. Darkness envelops the Earth. Spatial Fire cannot pass through this barrier in order to exchange energies with underground Fire to calm it down. It is on this principle that the delicate balance of all planets with hot interiors and a hard crust, including our planet, is based. Deprived of a full exchange with the rays of the Cosmos, the underground Fire itself rushes out. The balance collapses, the bowels of the planet heat up, and magmas begin to melt the earth’s crust. So briefly and very simplified we can show the root cause of the coming great fiery catastrophes.

This has already been said a long time ago. Humanity had little choice: either a complete explosion of the planet, or salvation at the cost of destroying a spiritless material civilization and then mitigating the global catastrophe. The second option is preferable, but it can only be achieved with considerable effort.

The fire of human passions is akin to underground Fire, and since like attracts like, the attraction of underground Fire will be greater in those places where peoples overwhelmed by these passions live, where the most blood has been shed during numerous wars. There are a lot of low things in people: greed, stinginess, thirst for profit, thirst for power, hatred and cruelty, sexual promiscuity, thirst for pleasure and entertainment, etc., etc. Where can we find human communities at least partially free from such passions? There are practically no such people on Earth, with the exception, perhaps, of small tribes in hard-to-reach places, who shy away in horror from the benefits of civilization. Paradox! The degraded remnants of early races, wild tribes with an obviously low level of consciousness, turn out to be purer than morally and spiritually advanced civilized peoples. It shouldn't be like this, it's not normal! This has long been abnormal. It is humanity that does not want to fulfill the laws of the foundations of Existence.

All kingdoms of Nature are lower than man, i.e. the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms do not violate the foundations of Being. Take, for example, the law of sacrifice or the law of exchange. The minerals that make up the flesh of the Earth sacrifice part of themselves in the form of salts and their solutions to support the life of the plant and animal kingdoms, including humans, because The body of a physical person is not fundamentally different from that of an animal. Water is also a mineral, without which physical life on Earth is simply impossible. Plants sacrifice part of themselves to support the life of the animal kingdom and humans. Animals sacrifice part of themselves within their kingdom, and also provide humans with food, clothing, and other things.

What do these kingdoms receive in exchange for their sacrifices? The mineral kingdom, with the help of plants and animals, is transformed into an innumerable variety of chemical compounds, enriching all of nature. The plant kingdom receives carbon dioxide and fertilizers from animals and people, thereby ensuring its existence. Animals that sacrifice part of their community thereby maintain their ranks in the high vitality necessary for the conservation of the species. Animals receive protection from humans in the form of domestication.

What does man give to all the underlying kingdoms? If you rise above the ground and look at the traces of human activity, you can understand that he has been taking things for a long time. Predatory plunder of the earth's interior, destruction of forests and vegetation cover of the Earth, extermination of wild animal species. To this can be added air pollution, soil poisoning and ocean pollution. This is what man pays to the lower kingdoms for their sacrifices. In addition, a person, in turn, must sacrifice something to the Higher Forces of Nature. How? Ancient man, as a sign of gratitude to his Gods, sacrificed the best lamb or bull, and he was honest before them. Of course, the Gods did not need specific sacrifices, but what was important was man’s attitude to the Highest Principle. It is still important today. Become better, become higher, sacrifice the low qualities of your nature. “Give Me your spiritual trash and you will become closer to Me,” says the Lord of Wisdom. “Kill the infidel in yourself,” the Koran asks the same. A person does not want to part with these rags, he has become accustomed to them, he does not notice them.

But man heads all the kingdoms of nature, he is the leading, highest spiritual principle of the planet. In the stream of evolution, everything that exists on Earth reaches out to man and strives to become man in the future. Fixed, long-suffering minerals strive to grow, to change forms, to plant. And we can see this desire in the amazing beauty of growing crystals, in the floral ornament of frosty patterns on the window glass, which so skillfully build water crystals. Plants, rooted in the ground, strive for freedom of movement, for animals. They express this in many ways of spreading seeds - there are walking, rolling, flying, traveling with the help of animals and many other ways of spreading them. There are creeping plants, there are algae just traveling through the ocean. Animals strive for humans. This can be clearly seen in domestic animals. They work together with a person, feel the owner’s mood well and strive to express their emotions like a person. Some wild animals are also capable of expressing their feelings and are drawn to communicate with humans with mutual trust.

So, everything reaches out to man. This is the law of evolution. Remove man from the planet, and the existence of the underlying kingdoms will lose all meaning. The Cosmos does not need such a planet. The immediate goal of the existence of a visible physical planet is to grow its humanity to the level of spiritual enlightenment, after which there is no need for earthly incarnation. The goal of man is to achieve this enlightenment by becoming a divine collaborator and thereby promoting the underlying kingdoms of Nature. The highest meaning of the biblical parables about the talents and the prodigal son lies precisely in this. It is precisely such a person who is valuable for evolution, for the Great Intelligent Forces that protect the planet and lead its humanity. The Prodigal Son, the personified symbol of humanity, returned to his Father, he retained the talents given to him at the beginning of his wanderings, he increased them by the difficult experience of numerous incarnations. He joined the flame of his spark to the Flame of the Father's Heart. He returned to Prometheus the Father with his great Gift. And the chains will fall from Prometheus, and Space will rejoice! Isn't this the highest happiness!?

The myth of Prometheus tells of fire given to man. He tells, of course, not about the fire of a fire or hearth, which made it possible for primitive man to warm up. In ancient times, this myth was such a great secret that the ancient Greek playwright Aeschylus, who staged the drama “Prometheus Chained” on the Athenian stage, was sentenced to death. Prometheus is a collective image of the collective Logos, who at the dawn of physical humanity gave a divine spark to every person from the Flame of his Heart. This Gift, which is the highest Sacrament, radically changed the consciousness of man. He acquired self-awareness and cognitive ability - the main difference from the animal. At the same time, the law of free will came into force. Since then, Prometheus has chained himself to the Earth - he has taken upon himself the obligation to bring humanity to its final goal. Identifying himself with humanity as with his children, Prometheus crucified himself on this sinful Earth for a very long time. And ungrateful humanity causes suffering to these Divine Beings in the same way as a kite pecking at the liver of Prometheus chained to a rock.

The law of free will for humans is one of the laws of the foundations of Existence. Of all the natural kingdoms, it concerns only man; he is given such a divine privilege.

“It is this generous gift, not used correctly, that causes grave consequences... You can see from everything how much people do not think about their purpose,” - says in one of the books of Living Ethics (Brotherhood, part 1, paragraph 46).

N.K. Roerich. Armageddon. 1936. N.K. Roerich The doomed city. 1914

The law of free will presupposes freedom of choice. It is quite natural that for successful spiritual development, a person’s will should be directed towards evolution. Every effort that promotes evolution is Good. And this law is essentially the law of Good Will. But a person, guided by freedom of choice, can, either unwisely or deliberately, direct his will against evolution. Obstruction of evolution, abuse of free will is Evil. Thus, Good Will is opposed to evil will.

Let's imagine this fairy-tale situation: you are endowed with divine power and you are tasked with bringing the inhabitants of an ordinary anthill to enlightenment. The payment for such work is the acquisition of faithful employees in the further endless path of improvement. Great task! But the anthill exists perfectly well without you, each of its members selflessly works for its common good, which ensures the task of survival in this world. However, ants do this unconsciously, obeying instinct. In this state they are not suitable as conscientious employees. The Promethean gift is necessary, because the law is the same for the entire Cosmos. And you make this gift. It's not hard to guess what will happen next. Having acquired self-awareness and free will, the inhabitants of your anthill will work for some time just as selflessly, listening to the wisdom of their father, i.e. your wisdom. And this will be their Golden Age. But then a petty little thought will creep into the consciousness of some individuals - why bother working for the whole anthill when you can work only for yourself? And you can take it away. And they will begin to conceal, appropriate and rob each other. Separate groups will begin to form. Wars will break out between groups. There will be no trace left of the former prosperity. Disaster and suffering will be the lot of ants. You will not be able to stop this process by your own will, because... the law of free will of your wards must be observed. All! You have chained yourself to this anthill, you have crucified yourself on this heap! You have no choice, you must follow through on your commitment. The end can have two outcomes - either the complete destruction of the anthill with stubborn resistance from its inhabitants, or the salvation of the anthill when most of the ants realize the need to move towards Good. To achieve a successful outcome, you do everything to raise the consciousness of your children. You send the most capable ants into the world of the anthill with various missions that will instill various arts: construction, sculpture, painting, music and much more. You will saturate the space with ideas and ants capable of perception will create science, philosophy, etc. You will send your best children as religious reformers, and high Teachings of Life will arise. But power in the anthill has long belonged to those ants for whom the only value is tasty food, for example, fat caterpillars. And they will destroy everything that threatens their exquisite diet. They will kill the sent saviors. They will kindle the worst of wars - religious ones, in the name of the same saviors. They will burn advanced scientists at the stake. They will establish a prize in the name of the scientist who made his fortune on the deadly explosive. All inventions will first of all be used for warfare. Your ants will extremely develop their intellect and, in their pride, will declare all higher knowledge to be pseudoscience. Hearths of real culture will be destroyed; instead, low-quality mass culture will be implanted, aimed at inciting animal instincts. Fierce ant fights will be encouraged, gathering many thousands of other ants eager for similar spectacles. You will be able to see crowds of thousands of your children raging to the destructive rhythms of primitive rough music and under the influence of drugs. All this will be declared the highest values, for which the ants in power are ready to declare war on anyone who does not agree with this state of affairs. It will be interesting to know your inner feeling, whether it will resemble the torment of Prometheus?

So what to do? How to escape? At least partially!

Reforms, radical reforms in politics and economics - this is the way out! - we will hear from all sides.

Let's listen to the Great Teachers.

N.K. Roerich the last angel. 1912
N.K. Roerich the Most Pure City - embitterment to enemies. 1911

“So, the dark forces have brought the planet to a state where no earthly decision can restore conditional well-being. No one can consider that the earthly measures of yesterday are suitable for tomorrow... One should not think that the ghost of trade can, at least temporarily, provide a lasting stay. ... Life has turned into trade, but which of the Teachers of Life was a trader? You know the great symbols about the expulsion of traders from the Temple, but isn’t the Earth itself the Temple? ..." - we read in Living Ethics (Fiery World, part 1, paragraph 83).

Like this. No reforms will help! We need a qualitatively different humanity. This is about saving the planet, not about prices and politics. Where can we find another humanity? What has grown is what has grown! Humanity cannot be changed overnight. And they won’t! Try to create a new type of society in one small country, a very small one. A type of society based on the principles of real Freedom (and not permissiveness and self-will), real Equality (and not evil human rights) and real Brotherhood (and not a deceitful society). Children are drawn to this kind of life from the very beginning. And a small country would successfully begin to educate normal people one generation after another. But they won't! It will all start with the invasion of all sorts of international societies such as the protection of plants, animals, as well as human rights (criminals and all kinds of minorities), and will end with the complete destruction of a small country with the help of tanks and bulldozers. In a big country it may be different - there they will start and destroy everything themselves with the help of liberals of all stripes and “democratic values”.

It is clear that the great problems of humanity are the work of humanity itself. These problems will never be solved until a normal enlightened society is educated and created. The creation of such a society is a rather long and difficult process. You can only slide down without applying any effort, but going up always requires effort. This is true in every sense.

“...Free will exists, and no one will deny it, but one can constantly notice some inconsistencies with the actions and thinking of the Supermundane Forces... It is sad to observe that chaotic will prevails among people. It does not improve with formal education. Free will is a human prerogative. But without harmony with the Higher Forces, it becomes a disaster.” , (Living Ethics. Brotherhood, part 1, paragraph 103).

Almost no one is engaged in educating peoples. This does not mean literacy training, not education (primary, secondary, higher, etc.), but rather enlightenment. What is the difference between an enlightened person and a simply educated one?

An enlightened person knows the basic Laws of Existence! He knows: that dead matter does not exist, that the entire Cosmos is saturated with life of different levels of consciousness; that the monkey evolved from man, and not vice versa; that there is no death, that there is an immutable law of reincarnation and karma, and that in this sense all people on Earth are brothers; that there is the highest law of Existence - Love for everything that exists, including one’s own kind. He still doesn’t know much, but strives to know more, thinks a lot and tries to live without violating these Laws and constantly improving. He lives for the common good, is not afraid of death, is calm, confident in the future, tolerant of all manifestations of life and non-aggressive.

A typical educated person considers matter dead and puzzles over how life arose from dead matter. He believes: that man descended from the monkey; that he only lives once, and therefore he needs to take everything from life in any way; that technological progress will solve all his problems; that science will make man immortal, etc. He lives for himself, is restless, afraid of death, afraid of the future, intolerant, selfish and aggressive.

This is a rough division, but it is correct.

S.N. Roerich. A Warning to Humanity (Behold, Humanity!) 1962

There are few enlightened people on Earth. The vast majority is made up of the ignorant masses, which includes both very educated and generally illiterate people, of whom there are a great many. The salvation of the Earth is in the education of peoples. But enlightenment is illegal. Education is prohibited de facto. For reading the books of the “Secret Doctrine” and the Teachings of “Living Ethics”, not so long ago you could be deprived of your freedom. Today these books are simply declared “heretical” and “pseudoscientific.” Paintings of the Great Artist and Enlightener are stolen and imprisoned in private collections and the dungeons of state museums. Darkness rules the world and entire generations continue to live in ignorance. A great crime is committed by the rulers of countries who keep their people in ignorance and darkness. The whole horror also lies in the fact that the actual slaves of darkness do not see and do not recognize their slave position. Some chew their “delicious caterpillars”, while others crave it. Still others are neither seen nor heard.

And there is no more time. Ask a gardener what date will his apple tree bloom? He will answer that he cannot name the number, but he knows for sure that it will bloom on time. Also, no one can say when or in what year this or that catastrophic event will occur. But the evolutionary deadlines have come close. Fire is knocking on the door and great fiery disasters cannot be avoided. The earth's firmament sways under the feet of humanity and the incomprehensible, inexplicable roar of the Earth is already frightening people.

It has happened many times in world history that peoples who were previously at odds suddenly united against a common enemy, putting their feuds aside, and won. A common misfortune unites people, a certain insight and reassessment of values occurs. There is hope that the world community, having assessed the real threats, will create some kind of interstate mechanism for preventing mass disasters. But the most important thing is hope for a shift in consciousness among the masses of the world. Enthusiasm is a great strength. There will be an interest in understanding the causes of things that happen, and with it the eradication of ignorance. The transformation of consciousness can occur with unprecedented speed. Higher Powers will come to the aid of humanity, and in this powerful union there will be salvation. Let us recall once again the words of the Great Personality: “... no earthly decision can return conditional well-being.” Earthly - no, but in union with the Higher Principle - Yes!

In the meantime, in the capital of Russia, the country in which the birth of that very new humanity is destined, the dark army is mockingly trying to take possession of the Heritage of the Great Artist and destroy the Center of Education founded by his Great Son. The Dark Host forgot about the Laws of Evolution, about their inexorable action and the steady implementation of the Supreme Decisions.

But we know that the Center is destined to exist!

Kazakhstan, Ust-Kamenogorsk

My lips are the lips of the people: I speak too rudely and heartily for silky hares. And my word sounds even stranger to all the inky fish and foxes of the pen!

My hand is a fool’s hand: woe to all the tables and walls and everything that can give room for effort and for the fool to get dirty!

My leg is a damn hoof; with it I trot through stones and tree stumps, across the field along and across, and, like the devil, I rejoice at every fast run.

My stomach must be the stomach of an eagle? For he loves lamb meat most of all. But, in any case, it is the stomach of a bird.

Fed on meager, innocent food, ready and passionately desiring to fly and fly away - that’s me: aren’t I a little bit like a bird!

And especially because I am hostile to the spirit of gravity, this is also the nature of the bird; and truly, I am a mortal enemy, a sworn enemy, an innate enemy! Oh, where my enmity has flown and flown everywhere!

I could sing a song about this - and I want to sing it: although I am alone in an empty house and must sing it for my own ears.

There are, of course, other singers for whom only a full house makes their larynx soft, their hand eloquent, their gaze expressive, their heart cheerful - I am not like them. –

Whoever one day teaches people to fly will move all the boundary stones; all the boundary stones themselves will fly up into the air, he will again christen the earth with the name “light”.

The ostrich bird runs faster than the fastest horse, but it still hides its head heavily in the heavy earth; so is a person who does not yet know how to fly.

The earth and life seem heavy to him; This is how the spirit of heaviness wants it! But whoever wants to be light and a bird must love himself, that’s what I teach.

Of course, not the love of the sick and feverish: for even their own love smells bad!

You must learn to love yourself - this is what I teach - with a whole and healthy love: in order to bear with yourself and not wander everywhere.

Such wandering is called “love of neighbor”: with the help of this word, until now, most people have lied and dissembled, and especially those whom the whole world could hardly bear.

And truly, this is not at all a commandment for today and tomorrow - to learn to love yourself. Rather, of all arts it is the most subtle, the most cunning, the last and the most patient.

For for the owner, everything that is his own is always deeply buried; and of all the treasures, one’s own treasure is dug up last - this is how the spirit of heaviness arranges it.

Almost from the cradle they give us as an inheritance heavy words and heavy values: “good” and “evil” - that’s what this dowry is called. And for their sake they forgive us for living.

And besides, they allow small children to come to them in order to forbid them to love themselves in time - this is how the spirit of heaviness arranges it.

And we - we trustingly drag what they give us as a dowry, on rough shoulders over the harsh mountains! And if we sweat, they tell us: “Yes, life is hard to bear!”

But it’s hard for a person to carry himself! This is because he carries too many other people’s things on his shoulders. Like a camel, he kneels down and allows himself to be properly loaded.

Especially a strong and resilient person, capable of deep reverence: he loads too many heavy words and values of others onto himself, and life seems like a desert to him!

And truly! It’s hard to carry even a lot of your own! Much inside a person is like an oyster, disgusting and slippery, difficult to grasp -

- so the noble shell with noble ornaments must intercede for her. But this art must also be learned: to have a beautiful ghost in the shell and wise blindness!

And again, you can make mistakes in a person in many ways, for some shells can be insignificant and sad and too much of a shell. Much hidden kindness and strength is never guessed: the most precious delicacies do not find gourmets!

Women know this, the most delicious ones; a little fatter, a little thinner - oh, how often fate is contained in so little!

It is difficult to open a person, and most of all it is difficult to open oneself; The spirit often lies about the soul. This is how the spirit of heaviness arranges it.

But he has revealed himself who says: this is my good and my evil; by this he silenced the mole and the dwarf, who says: “Good for all, evil for all.”

Truly, I do not love those who call every thing good and this world even the best of worlds. I call them all-satisfied.

Complacency, which knows how to find everything tasty, is not the best taste! I respect stubborn, picky tongues and stomachs that have learned to say “I”, “yes” and “no”.

But chewing and digesting everything is a real breed of pig! To constantly say I-A - only a donkey learned this and who is his brother in spirit!

Thick yellow and bright scarlet colors: my taste demands them, mixing blood into all colors. But whoever paints his house white reveals a bleached soul.

Some are in love with mummies, others with ghosts; both are equally hostile to all flesh and blood - oh, how disgusting they are to my taste! For I love blood.

And I don’t want to live and dwell there, where everyone spits and spits: that’s my taste - I’d rather live among thieves and perjurers. Nobody carries gold in their mouth.

Unhappy I call everyone who has only one choice: to become a fierce beast or a fierce beast tamer - I would not have built my tent with them.

I also call those unfortunate who must always be on guard - they are disgusting to my taste; all these publicans and traders, kings and other guardians of the country and shops.

Truly, I have also thoroughly learned to be on guard, but only on guard of myself. And first of all, I learned to stand, and walk, and run, and jump, and climb, and dance.

For this is my teaching: whoever wants to learn to fly must first learn to stand, and walk, and run, and climb, and dance - you cannot immediately learn to fly!

I learned to climb into many windows using a rope ladder, I quickly climbed high masts: sitting on the high masts of knowledge seemed to me no small bliss, -

- to burn with a small fire on high masts: although with a small fire, it is a great consolation for stranded shipmen and shipwrecked people! –

In many ways and ways I reached my truth: I climbed more than one ladder to a height from where my gaze rushed into the distance.

And I was always reluctant to ask about roads - it was always contrary to my taste! I would rather ask and test the roads myself.

Testing and questioning has been my entire walk - and truly, I must even learn to answer this question! But this is my taste:

- neither good nor bad, but my taste, which I am not ashamed of and do not hide.

“This is now my path, but where is yours?” - this is how I answered those who asked me about the “path”. Because there is no way at all!

About old and new tablets

– Here I sit and wait; all the old, broken tablets around me, as well as new, half-written ones. When will my time come?

- the hour of my descent, setting: for one more time I want to go to people.

I am waiting for him now: for first signs must precede me that my hour has come - namely, a laughing lion with a flock of doves.

In the meantime, I’m talking to myself, like someone who has time. Nobody tells me anything new, so I tell myself about myself. –

– When I came to people, I found them frozen in the old conceit: they all imagined that they had long known what is good for a person and what is evil for him.

Any talk about virtue seemed like an old, tiresome thing to them, and whoever wanted to sleep peacefully would also talk about “good” and “evil” before going to bed.

I shook out this drowsiness when I began to teach: no one yet knows what is good and what is evil - unless he himself is a creator!

– But the creator is the one who creates a goal for man and gives the earth its meaning and its future: he first creates good and evil for all things.

I told them to laugh at their gloomy sages and at those who had ever sat on the tree of life, like a black scarecrow, warning.

On the edge of their great street of tombs I sat with the carrion and the hawks - and I laughed at their entire past and its rotten, decaying splendor.

My desire for wisdom screamed and laughed inside me, truly, it was born on the mountains, my wild wisdom! - my great melancholy, rustling with its wings.

And often it carried me into the distance, into the heights, amid laughter; Then I flew, shuddering like an arrow, through a sun-drunk delight:

- to the distant future, which no dream has ever seen, to the hotter south than artists have ever dreamed of: to where the gods, dancing, are ashamed of all kinds of clothes, -

- so I speak in symbols and, like poets, I stammer and mutter: and truly, I am ashamed that I should still be a poet! –

There, where every becoming seemed to me like a divine dance and prank, and the world - released into freedom, unbridled, running back to itself -

- as the eternal flight of many gods from themselves and again a new search for themselves, as a blissful contradiction of themselves, new attention to themselves and the return of many gods to themselves. –

Where all time seemed to me to be a blissful mockery of moments, where freedom itself was a necessity, blissfully playing with the sting of freedom. –

Where again I found my old demon and sworn enemy, the spirit of gravity, and everything that he created: violence, regulations, necessity, consequence, purpose, will, good and evil. –

Shouldn't there be things to dance over? Shouldn't moles and heavy dwarfs exist because there is the light and the lightest?

– There I raised the word “superman” on the road and that man is something that must overcome,

– that man is a bridge, not a goal; that he rejoices in his noon and evening as the path leading to new morning dawns:

Zarathustra's word about the great noon, and what else have I hung on man as the second purple evening dawn.

Verily, I made them see even new stars and new nights; and over the clouds, day and night, I spread laughter like a colorful tent.

I taught them all my thoughts and all my aspirations: to gather together and together carry everything that is fragmentary, mysterious and terribly random in a person -

- as a poet, a guesser and a deliverer from chance, I taught them to be creators of the future and to save everything that was by creating.

To save the past in a person and transform everything that “was” until the will says: “But that’s how I wanted it! That’s how I want it.” –

This is what I called them deliverance; this alone was what I taught them to call deliverance. –

Now I am waiting for my deliverance - so that I can go to them for the last time.

For one more time I will go to people: among them I want to die, and, dying, I want to give them my richest gift!

I learned this from the sun, when it sets, the richest luminary: it pours gold into the sea from its inexhaustible treasuries -

- so even the poorest fisherman rows with a golden oar! For I saw this once, and while I looked, tears flowed incessantly from my eyes. –

Like the sun, Zarathustra also wants to set: now he sits here and waits; around him are old, broken tablets, as well as new ones, half written on.

- Look, here is a new tablet; but where are my brothers who, together with me, will carry it into the valley and into the hearts of flesh? –

This is what my great love for those who are farthest says: do not spare your neighbor. Man is something that must be overcome.

There are many ways and means of overcoming - look for them yourself! But only the buffoon thinks: “You can jump over a person.”

Overcome yourself even in your neighbor: and the right that you can win for yourself, you must not allow to be given to you!

What you do, no one can compensate you for it. Know that there is no retribution.

He who cannot command himself must obey. Others can command themselves, but they still lack much to be able to obey themselves!

- This is how the character of noble souls wants it: they do not want to have anything for free, least of all life.

He who is from the crowd wants to live for nothing; We are others who have been given life - we constantly think about what we could give better in exchange for it!

And truly, noble is that speech that says: “What life promises us, we want to fulfill for life!”

There is no need to seek pleasure where there is no place for pleasure. And – you don’t have to want to enjoy!

For pleasure and innocence are the most shameful things: they do not want to be sought for. You have to have them, but you have to look for guilt and suffering rather! –

- O my brothers, whoever is the firstborn is always sacrificed. And we are now the firstborn.

We all bleed on secret altars, we all burn and roast in honor of the old idols.

Our best is still young; it irritates the old sky. Our meat is tender, our skin is only the skin of a lamb - how can we not irritate the old idolatry priests!

He still lives within us, the old idol priest, he roasts our best for his feast. Ah, my brothers, how can the firstborn not be a victim!

But this is how our race wants it; and I love those who are not looking to save themselves. I love those who are perishing with all my love: for they cross over to the other side. –

– Few people can be truthful! And who can, does not want to! But least of all can they be good.

Oh, these good ones! – Good people never tell the truth; For a spirit to be so kind is a disease.

They yield, these good ones, they submit, their heart echoes, their mind obeys: but whoever obeys does not listen to himself!

Everything that the good call evil must unite so that a single truth is born - oh my brothers, are you evil enough for this truth?

Desperate boldness, long mistrust, cruel denial, satiety, cutting into life - how rarely do these happen together. But from such a seed the truth is born!

Next to a bad conscience, all knowledge has grown up until now! Break, break, you knowers, the old tablets!

- When the logs are in the water, when bridges and railings are thrown over the river, truly, they will not believe it if someone then says: “Everything flows.”

Even the bumpkins will contradict him. “How?” the hulks will say, “is everything flowing? After all, the beams and railings are thrown over the river!”

“Above the river everything is strong, all the values of things, bridges, concepts, all “good” and “evil” - all this is strong!” –

And when harsh winter, the tamer of rivers, comes, then the scoffers begin to doubt; and truly, it is not only the bumpkins who say then: “Isn’t everything calm?”

“Basically everything is calm” is the true teaching of winter, convenient for barren times, a good consolation for winter sleepers and stove couches.

“Basically everything is calm” – but the wind in the thaw speaks against it!

The wind in the thaw is a bull, but not a plowing bull, but a mad bull, a destroyer, breaking the ice with its angry horns! The ice breaks the bridges!

O my brothers, is not everything flowing now? Didn't all the railings and bridges fall into the water? Who will still hold on to “good” and “evil”?

"Woe to us! Good to us! A warm wind blew!" - so preach, my brothers, in all the streets!

There is an old madness called good and evil. The wheel of this madness still revolved around the soothsayers and astrologers.

They once believed in soothsayers and astrologers; and therefore they believed: “Everything is fate: you must, because it must be so!”

Then they again began to distrust all soothsayers and astrologers; and therefore they believed: “Everything is freedom: you can, because you want!”

O my brothers, until now we have only dreamed of the stars and the future, but did not know them; and therefore until now we have only dreamed of good and evil, but did not know them!

"You must not rob! You must not kill!" - such words were once called sacred; they bowed their knees and heads before them, and approached them, taking off their shoes.

But I ask you: when were there more robbers and murderers in the world, if not when these words were especially sacred?

Isn’t there robbery and murder in life itself? And to consider these words sacred, doesn’t it mean to kill the truth itself?

I feel sorry for the whole past, because I see that it was given up to arbitrariness, -

- given up to the mercy, spirit and madness of each generation, which comes and interprets everything that was as a bridge for itself!

A great tyrant may come, a crafty monster who, with his mercy and his disfavor, will rape the entire past - until it becomes for him a bridge, a sign, a herald and the crowing of a rooster.

But here is another danger and my other regret: the memory of those who are from the crowd does not go further than the grandfather, and time ends with the grandfather.

And so the whole past is given up to arbitrariness: for it may someday happen that the crowd will become master, and will drown in shallow water at any time.

Therefore, O my brothers, we need a new nobility, an opponent of everything that is every crowd and every despotism, a nobility that will again write the word “noble” on new tablets.

For it takes many nobles, and many kinds of nobles, to form a nobility! Or, as I once said in a symbol, “divinity lies in the fact that there are gods, and not God!”

O my brothers, I welcome you into a new nobility: you must become creators and educators - sowers of the future -

- truly, it is not worth knowing what you, as traders, could buy with the gold of traders: for there is little value in everything that has its own price.

From now on, let it not be where you come from that will be your honor, but where you are going! Let your will and your steps, going further than yourself, be your new honor from now on!

Truly, it’s not what you served the prince - what do princes mean now! - or that you were a stronghold for what stands, so that it could stand stronger!

It’s not that your family at the courts became courtiers and you learned, colorful as flamingos, to stand for hours in shallow ponds.

- For the ability to stand is a merit among courtiers; and all the courtiers believe that bliss after death includes permission to sit down! –

– And truly, wherever this “holy spirit” led his knights, goats and geese, madmen and lunatics always ran ahead of such processions! –

O my brothers, your nobility should not look back, but forward! You must be exiles from the country of your fathers and forefathers!

You must love the country of your children: let this love be your new nobility - a country not yet discovered, lying in the most distant seas! And let your sails search and search for it!

With your children you must atone for the fact that you are the children of your fathers: you must save the entire past in this way! I place this new tablet over you!

“Why live? Everything is vanity! To live is to thresh straw; to live is to burn yourself and still not get warm.” –

This old chatter is still considered "wisdom" and because it is old and smells musty, it is respected even more. Even mold improves. –

The children could say this: they are afraid of fire, because it burned them! There is a lot of childishness in the old books of wisdom.

And who always “threshes straw,” what right does he have to blaspheme threshing! Such fools should be gagged!

They sit down at the table and bring nothing with them, not even healthy hunger; and so they blaspheme: “Everything is vanity!”

But eating well and drinking well, O my brothers, this is truly not a vain art! Break, break the tablets of those who never rejoice!

“To the pure all things are pure” – that’s what the people say. But I tell you: for pigs, everything turns into a pig!

Therefore, the frenzied and holy ones, whose hearts even sink, preach: “The world itself is a dirty monster.”

For they are all not pure in spirit; especially those who find neither peace nor rest, except by seeing the world from behind - and otherworldly people!

I tell them to their faces, although it does not sound kind: the world is similar to a person in that it also has a back part - and only to that extent is this true!

There is a lot of dirt in the world - and only that much is true! But that is why the world itself is not yet a dirty monster!

There is wisdom in the fact that much in the world smells bad - but disgust itself creates wings and forces that guess the sources!

Even in the best there is something disgusting; and even the best man is something that must be overcome!

O my brothers, there is a lot of wisdom in the fact that there is a lot of dirt in the world!

I heard how pious otherworlders spoke to their conscience, and truly, without malice and lies, although there is nothing more deceitful and evil in the world.

"Let the world be the world! Don't even raise your little finger against it!"

“Let whoever wants to strangle and stab people and tear off their skin - don’t even raise your little finger against him! So they will learn to renounce the world.”

“And your own mind - you yourself must strangle it: for it is the mind of this world - so you yourself will learn to renounce the world.”

- Break, break, O my brothers, these old tablets of the pious! Dispel the words of those slandering the world!

“Whoever studies a lot unlearns every strong desire” - this is what they whisper today on all the dark streets.

“Wisdom tires, nothing is rewarded; you should not desire!” – I found this new tablet hanging even in the market squares.

Break, O my brothers, break this new tablet too! Weary of the world, both the preachers of death and the jailers hanged her: for, look, this is also a sermon calling for slavery!

For they studied poorly, and far from the best, and everything was too early and everything was too soon: for they ate poorly, and therefore they received this spoiled stomach,

- for a spoiled stomach is their spirit: it advises death! For, truly, my brothers, the spirit is the stomach!

Life is a spring of joy; but in whom the spoiled stomach, the father of sorrow, speaks, for him all the springs are poisoned.

Cognition is a joy for those in whom the will of the lion is! But whoever is tired, he himself becomes only an “object of will”; all the waves play with him.

And this always happens with weak people: they get lost in their ways. And finally, fatigue still asks them: “Why did we once walk along the roads? It’s the same everywhere!”

They like to hear it preached: "Nothing is rewarded! You don't have to desire!" But this is a sermon calling for slavery.

O my brothers, like a breath of fresh wind Zarathustra comes to all who are tired of their journey; He will make many noses sneeze!

Even through walls my free breath penetrates, enters prisons and captive minds!

“To want” liberates: for to want means to create, that’s what I teach. And only for creation you must study!

And even to learn, you must first learn from me, learn well! - He who has ears, let him hear!

The boat is ready - on the other side you will find yourself, perhaps, in the great Nothingness. – But who wants to enter into this “maybe”?

None of you want to join the death boat! How you want to be tired of the world then!

World-weary! You haven't even renounced the earth yet! I always found you lustful towards the earth, still in love with your own weariness with the earth!

It’s not for nothing that your lip hangs down: a small earthly desire is still sitting on it! And isn’t there a cloud of unforgotten earthly joy floating in your eye?

There are many good inventions on earth, some useful, others pleasant; for their sake it is worth loving the earth.

And many inventions are so good that they are like a woman's breasts - both useful and pleasant.

And you, tired of the world and lazy! You must be whipped with rods! With blows of the rod we must return your quick legs.

For - if you are not sick and obsolete creatures from whom the earth is tired, then you are cunning sloths or thieving, lurking, lustful cats. And if you don’t want to run away merrily again, you must disappear!

You should not want to be a doctor to the incurable - this is what Zarathustra teaches - so you must disappear!

But it takes more courage to put an end to it than to sit through a new verse—all doctors and poets know this. –

O my brothers, there are tablets created by fatigue, and tablets created by rotten laziness - although they speak alike, they want to be heard differently. –

Look at this thirsty one! Only one span still separates him from his goal, but out of fatigue he lay down here stubbornly in the dust - this brave man!

From fatigue he yawns at the path, at the ground, at the goal and at himself: he does not want to take a single step further - this brave man!

And so the sun beats down on him, and the dogs lick his sweat; but he lies here in his stubbornness and prefers to languish with thirst -

- to languish with thirst within a span of your goal! And, truly, you will still have to drag him by the hair to his heaven - this hero!

But even better, leave him where he lay down so that a comforting sleep will come to him with the sound of refreshing rain.

Leave him lying there until he himself wakes up - until he himself renounces all fatigue and everything that fatigue taught him!

Just, my brothers, drive away from him the dogs, the lazy sneaks and all the noisy rabble -

– the whole noisy rabble of “cultured” people who feast on – the sweat of heroes! –

I close circles around myself and sacred boundaries; fewer and fewer climb with me to ever higher mountains; I am building a spine of ever more sacred mountains. –

And this is his art, that in the ascending souls he guesses where they are tired; in your grief and discontent, in your tender modesty, he builds his disgusting nest.

– the most extensive soul, which can run far, wander and rush about within itself; the most necessary, which for the sake of pleasure throws itself into chance -

– the existing soul, which is immersed in becoming; the possessor who wants to enter into will and desire -

– running away from itself and catching up with itself in wide circles; the wisest soul, which madness quietly invites to itself, -

O my brothers, am I cruel? But I say: what falls, you still need to push!

Everything that is from today falls and disintegrates; who would want to keep him! But I—I want to push him some more!

Do you know the pleasure of rolling stones into sheer depths? - These people of today: look at them, how they are sliding into my depths!

I am only a prelude for the best players, oh my brothers! Example! Follow my example!

And whoever you don’t teach to fly, teach him to fall faster! –

I love the brave; but it’s not enough to be a chopper - you also need to know who to chop!

And there is often more courage in holding on and passing by - and thereby saving yourself for a more worthy enemy!

You should only have enemies that you would hate, and not ones that you would despise. You must be proud of your enemy, as I taught once already.

For a more worthy enemy you must take care of yourself, O my friends; therefore you must pass by a lot, -

- especially past the numerous rabble screaming in your ears about the people and peoples.

Keep your eyes clear of their pros and cons! There is a lot of fairness there, a lot of unfairness: whoever looks there is indignant.

Peeking in and cutting down is a matter of a moment: so go into the forests and sheathe your sword!

Go your own ways! And let the people and nations go their own way! - truly, dark roads, not illuminated by a single hope!

Let the merchant reign where all that still glitters is the merchant’s gold! The time of kings has passed: what is called the people today does not deserve kings.

Look how these peoples now themselves imitate the traders: they pick up the slightest profit from all sorts of rubbish!

For, my brothers, the best must rule, the best wants to rule! And where the teaching says otherwise, there is no better one.

If only these had bread for nothing, alas! what would they shout about! Their food is the real food for their conversations; and may it be difficult for them to get it!

They are beasts of prey: in their word “work” one also hears rob, in their word “earn” one also hears outwitness! Therefore, let it be difficult for them to get it!

So they must become better beasts of prey, more cunning, more intelligent, more like humans: for man is the best beast of prey.

Man has already robbed all animals of their virtues; Therefore, of all the animals, it is most difficult for man to obtain food.

Only the birds are taller than him. And if a person also learned to fly, alas! - no matter where his rapacity flies!

I want to see a man and a woman: one capable of war, the other capable of bearing children, but both capable of dancing with their heads and feet.

And may that day be lost for us when we never danced! And let every truth that does not have laughter be called false!

The conclusion of your marriages: be careful that it does not turn out to be a bad conclusion! You concluded too quickly: it follows - desecration of marriage!

And it’s better to desecrate a marriage than to bend a marriage, to deceive a marriage! - one woman told me: “Yes, I desecrated the marriage, but first the marriage desecrated me!”

I have always found bad spouses to be the most vindictive: they take revenge on the whole world because they can no longer go on their own.

Therefore, I want honest people to say to each other: “We love each other; let’s see if we can continue to love each other! Or will our promise be an oversight?”

- “Give us a term and a short union, so that we can see whether we are suitable for a long union! It’s a great thing to always be together!”

This is what I advise everyone who is honest; and what would my love for the superman and for everything that is to come be, if I advised and spoke differently!

Grow not only in breadth, but also in height - oh my brothers, may the garden of marriage help you!

Whoever is wise in old sources, look, he will eventually look for the springs of the future and new sources. –

O my brothers, it will not be long before new nations will arise, and new springs will rustle, falling into new depths.

For an earthquake fills up many wells and creates many who are thirsty; but it also brings to light inner forces and secrets.

An earthquake opens new springs. When old nations are shaken, new springs burst forth.

And whoever then exclaims: “Look, here is one spring for many who are thirsty, one heart for many who are yearning, one will for many weapons,” the people gather around him, that is, many who are testing.

Who knows how to command, who must obey - this is tested there! Oh, what a long search, success and failure, study and new attempts!

Human society: this is an attempt, so I teach, a long search; but it seeks a commander! –

- an attempt, oh my brothers! But not a “contract”! Break, break this word of soft and indecisive hearts and half-hearted people!

O my brothers! In whom lies the greatest danger for the entire human future? Is it not in the good and righteous? –

- is it not in those who say and feel in their hearts: “We already know what is good and what is righteous, we have achieved this; woe to those who are still seeking here!”

And no matter what harm the evil ones cause, the harm of the good is the most harmful harm!

And whatever harm the slanderers have caused to the world, the harm of the good is the most harmful harm.

O my brothers, in the hearts of the good and righteous there once appeared the one who then said: “These are the Pharisees.” But they didn’t understand him.

The kindest and most righteous were not supposed to understand him; their spirit is captured by their clear conscience. The stupidity of the good is inscrutably clever.

But here is the truth: the good must be Pharisees - they have no other choice!

The good must crucify the one who finds his own virtue! It is truth!

The second who discovered their country, the country, heart and land of the good and righteous, was the one who then asked: “Whom do they hate most?”

They hate the creator most of all: the one who breaks tablets and old values, the destroyer - whom they call a criminal.

For the good cannot create: they are always the beginning of the end -

- they crucify the one who writes new values on new tablets, they sacrifice the future to themselves - they crucify the entire human future!

The good ones were always the beginning of the end.

O my brothers, have you also understood this word? And what did I once say about the “last man”? –

In whom lies the greatest danger for the entire human future? Is it not in the good and righteous?

Break, break the good and righteous! - O my brothers, have you also understood this word?

Are you running from me? Are you scared? Do you tremble at this word?

O my brothers, when I ordered you to break the good and the tablets of the good, then for the first time I let a man sail on his open sea.

And now only great fear, great caution, great illness, great disgust, great seasickness sets in for him.

But whoever discovered the land of “man” also discovered the land of “human future”. Now you must be sailors, brave and patient!

Walk upright on time, O my brothers, learn to walk upright! The sea is stormy; many need you to rise again.

The sea is stormy: everyone is at sea. Well! forward! you old hearts of sailors!

What do you care about your homeland! Our ship is heading there, where is the country of our children! There, in the vastness, more furiously than the sea, our great melancholy rages! –

“Why is it so hard!” charcoal once said to the diamond. “Aren’t we close relatives?” –

Why so soft? O my brothers, so I ask you: are you not my brothers?

Why are they so soft, so submissive and compliant? Why is there so much denial and renunciation in your heart? Is there so little rock in your gaze?

And if you don’t want to be fatal and inflexible, how can you ever, together with me, win?

And if your hardness does not want to sparkle and cut and dissect, how can you ever create with me?

All creators are solid. And it should seem blissful to you to lay your hand on millennia, like on wax, -

- it is bliss to write on the will of thousands of years, as on bronze - harder than bronze, nobler than bronze. Only the noblest is absolutely firm.

This new tablet, O my brothers, I give to you: stand firm! –

O my will! You are the avoidance of all troubles, you are my inevitability! Protect me from all small victories!

You are the lot of my soul, which I call fate! You are inside me! Above me! Protect and preserve me for one great destiny!

And save your last greatness, O my will, for the end, so that you may be inexorable in your victory! Ah, who did not submit to his victory!

Ah, whose eye did not darken in this intoxicating twilight! Ah, whose foot never stumbled and never forgot how to stand in victory!

May I be ready and ripe at the great noon: ready and ripe as white-hot copper, like a cloud pregnant with lightning, and like an udder swollen with milk -

- ready for himself and for his deepest will: like a bow flaming towards its arrow, like an arrow flaming towards its star;

- like a star, ready and ripe at midday, blazing, pierced, blissful before the destroying arrows of the sun;

- like the sun itself and its inexorable will, ready to be destroyed in victory!

O will, avoidance of all troubles, you are my inevitability! Save me for one great victory!

Thus spoke Zarathustra.