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…

Four day-journeys from the Happy Isles, Zarathustra speaks to his conscience. He recalls finding his friends in the afternoon and what he gave up for his thoughts and his highest hope.

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…

His children are trees in his garden; one day he will set each alone by the sea to learn lonesomeness and defiance. He therefore avoids his happiness and presents himself to misfortune for his own final testing.

And verily, it were time that I went away; and the wanderer’s shadow and the longest tedium and the stillest hour—have all said unto me: “It is the highest time!” The word blew to me through the keyhole and said “Come!”…

The shadow, the tedium and the stillest hour tell him it is the highest time. He lies enchained by desire for love, stewed in the sun of his own love. He longs for frost, and old pains wake until his thought bites him.

Ah, abysmal thought, which art MY thought! When shall I find strength to hear thee burrowing, and no longer tremble? To my very throat throbbeth my heart when I hear thee burrowing! Thy muteness even is like to strangle…

He trembles to hear his abysmal thought burrowing and has not yet had the strength for his final lion-wantonness. He hopes one day to find the lion's voice to call it up.

Meanwhile do I sail along on uncertain seas; chance flattereth me, smooth-tongued chance; forward and backward do I gaze—, still see I no end. As yet hath the hour of my final struggle not come to me—or doth it come to…

Peace and the beauty of sea and life seem insidious to him. Like a jealous lover he pushes the hour away, calls his bliss involuntary and ill-timed, and bids it go bless his children before eventide.

Happiness runneth after me. That is because I do not run after women. Happiness, however, is a woman.

He waits all night for misfortune in vain, and happiness comes nearer. Toward morning he laughs and jokes that happiness follows him because he does not chase women.