47. XLVII. INVOLUNTARY BLISS.
With such enigmas and bitterness in his heart did Zarathustra sail o'er the
sea. When, however, he was four day-journeys from the Happy Isles and from
his friends, then had he surmounted all his pain--: triumphantly and with
firm foot did he again accept his fate. And then talked Zarathustra in
this wise to his exulting conscience:
Alone am I again, and like to be so, alone with the pure heaven, and the
open sea; and again is the afternoon around me.
On an afternoon did I find my friends for the first time; on an afternoon,
also, did I find them a second time:--at the hour when all light becometh
For whatever happiness is still on its way 'twixt heaven and earth, now
seeketh for lodging a luminous soul: WITH HAPPINESS hath all light now
O afternoon of my life! Once did my happiness also descend to the valley
that it might seek a lodging: then did it find those open hospitable
O afternoon of my life! What did I not surrender that I might have one
thing: this living plantation of my thoughts, and this dawn of my highest
Companions did the creating one once seek, and children of HIS hope: and
lo, it turned out that he could not find them, except he himself should
first create them.
Thus am I in the midst of my work, to my children going, and from them
returning: for the sake of his children must Zarathustra perfect himself.
For in one's heart one loveth only one's child and one's work; and where
there is great love to oneself, then is it the sign of pregnancy: so have
I found it.
Still are my children verdant in their first spring, standing nigh one
another, and shaken in common by the winds, the trees of my garden and of
my best soil.
And verily, where such trees stand beside one another, there ARE Happy