57. LVII. THE CONVALESCENT. (continued)
Sing and bubble over, O Zarathustra, heal thy soul with new lays: that
thou mayest bear thy great fate, which hath not yet been any one's fate!
For thine animals know it well, O Zarathustra, who thou art and must
become: behold, THOU ART THE TEACHER OF THE ETERNAL RETURN,--that is now
That thou must be the first to teach this teaching--how could this great
fate not be thy greatest danger and infirmity!
Behold, we know what thou teachest: that all things eternally return, and
ourselves with them, and that we have already existed times without number,
and all things with us.
Thou teachest that there is a great year of Becoming, a prodigy of a great
year; it must, like a sand-glass, ever turn up anew, that it may anew run
down and run out:--
--So that all those years are like one another in the greatest and also in
the smallest, so that we ourselves, in every great year, are like ourselves
in the greatest and also in the smallest.
And if thou wouldst now die, O Zarathustra, behold, we know also how thou
wouldst then speak to thyself:--but thine animals beseech thee not to die
Thou wouldst speak, and without trembling, buoyant rather with bliss, for a
great weight and worry would be taken from thee, thou patientest one!--
'Now do I die and disappear,' wouldst thou say, 'and in a moment I am
nothing. Souls are as mortal as bodies.
But the plexus of causes returneth in which I am intertwined,--it will
again create me! I myself pertain to the causes of the eternal return.
I come again with this sun, with this earth, with this eagle, with this
serpent--NOT to a new life, or a better life, or a similar life:
--I come again eternally to this identical and selfsame life, in its
greatest and its smallest, to teach again the eternal return of all