Our ideas have no equal

Their brilliance dazzles all

They see the brightness they cannot comprehend

And liken it to the last burst of a dying star

Cold, dark, devoid, empty

Yet when we bestow upon them the knowledge to see

They plead ignorance still, they fear, they don’t see

We treated them with the respect we gave to equals

For once perhaps… But not much more

Alas, the loneliness of the eternal spark!

Felt solely in its own amidst the dark

‘This genius demands an audience!’ We speak

An audience? Wishes of a deluded mind in grandeur

For it still lacks its rightful men!

But this loneliness needs a witness at least

Please could we have a witness at least?

O man! Attend!

What does deep midnight’s voice contend?

I slept my sleep,

And now awake at dreaming’s end:

The world is deep,

And deeper than day can comprehend.

Deep is its woe,

Joy—deeper than heart’s agony:

Woe says: Fade! Go!

But all joy wants eternity,

Wants deep, deep, deep eternity! *

O man, Attend…

I am so unique, so different

I don’t know how to think

O man! Attend!

I am so unique, so different!

I crush the other minds to dust!

I am so unique, so different!

* “Zarathustra’s Roundelay” taken from R. J. Hollingdale’s translation of “Thus Spake Zarathustra” written by Friedrich Nietzsche

Tags: agony, audience, brilliance, burst, deep midnight, dying star, eternity, friedrich nietzsche, genius, grandeur, heart, loneliness, r j hollingdale, sleep, translation, witness, woe, zarathustra

This entry was posted on Saturday, January 16th, 2010 at 1:01 pm and is filed under The Meditative. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.