Prose poem "Flies on the Market" Germany _ Nietzsche

Dear friends, run away, into the depths of loneliness. I see that in the noise of the big people, your ears are deaf; in the noise of the little people, your ears are pierced.

In front of you, the rocks choose to be silent, and the trees are wisely speechless. Learn from the lush tree you've always loved, which always listens quietly and bows its head over the sea.

The end of loneliness is the starting point of the market, when the market appears, the dramatists begin to clamor, and the flies begin to buzz.

If no one shows it, no matter how beautiful things are, they have no meaning, and the people who show them are called "superiors" by the people.

The people do not understand the Creator and do not know why greatness is called greatness, but they are very interested in the drama of presenting greatness in concrete things.

The whole world is spinning around the Creator, and this rotation is invisible, while the people are rotating around the plays, and the plays are given glory. This is an inevitable process of the development of the world.

There is no doubt that there is also a spirit in the body of the play, but their spirit has nothing to do with conscience. They believe only in the strongest desire in their hearts, which is themselves.

He has a new faith tomorrow, and a stronger, renewed faith the day after tomorrow. Like all people, his senses are very sharp, and his sense of smell is complex and changeable.

To him, all the evidence was nothing more than an inversion, and the belief of the multitude in his eyes was essentially nothing but madness, and for him there was no reason for it to be more beautiful than blood.

He did not believe in the truth, for the truth would only whisper in the ears of the shrewd and meticulous, and he believed only in God, who caused a great sensation in the world.

Everywhere in the market are disturbing clowns, and the masses are complacently showing off their big men, who in the eyes of the masses are the masters of this world.

However, time is pressing on them step by step, so they are pressing on you step by step, and even for your existence, they want to recognize or veto it. Oh my friend, would you rather put your chair in the mud between approval and veto?

O lovers of truth, truth never hangs on the arms of the Absolute, so there is no need for you to be jealous of the oppressors or the Absolute.

Friends, return to the safe and quiet wasteland, away from these uninvited guests, except in the market, people can not be infringed by yes or no.

The recognition of deep wells is a slow process, and only after a long wait will people know what is falling into the bottom of the well.

All the forces of the divine shore are in the loneliness of being far from the market, and those who have created new values have always been hidden in the wilderness outside the market.

Dear friends, get away from here, go back to loneliness, let the cold wind blow, I see, poisonous flies have punctured your eardrums.

Get away from here, go back to loneliness, where you live too close to those small people and poor creatures. Their revenge is invisible and colorless, you can't see it. They have nothing but revenge on you.

Don't try to shoot them to death, you're not a fly, really, and there are never too many flies in this world to count.

There are many small people, there are countless poor insects, and under the erosion of raindrops and fading grass, even the most magnificent buildings will be destroyed.

There are already a lot of raindrops passing through your body, dear friend, you are not a rock, but after being hit by so many raindrops, you will still crumble.

Poisonous flies make you exhausted, you are covered in scales and blood, but you can't be angry, because you are so proud.

They need your blood, they are born anemic, they are full of desire for the blood of the innocent, and you, the innocent, they will bite you for no reason.

You are calm, you are expressionless, the tiny wounds are causing you deep pain, and the same poisonous insects will climb up on your arms and bite you, just as you are about to heal.

Your arrogance will not allow you to hunt down these vicious bloodsuckers, but you must be vigilant that their viciousness and domineering may one day become the nightmare of your destiny.

They've surrounded you, they're praising you, they're buzzing, but in reality, they're just trying to prick your skin and suck your blood.

They please you as if they were cursing God or a ghost; they weep in sorrow before you, as if weailing in the presence of God or a ghost. What's going on? They are only pleasing for the sake of flattery, weeping for the sake of weeping.

Sometimes, they will show full closeness and affection to you, but this is always the self-righteous little wisdom of the weak. Yes, weak people are actually a little clever.

They often use their own narrowness to speculate about you, and in their eyes all maturity and contemplation are questionable.

They will punish you, because of all the virtues you have in you, they will forgive you, but it is only your mistakes that are forgiven.

You are gentle and selfless, so you think, "They are just humble here, innocent and pitiful." But they don't think so, and in their selfish souls all the greatness that lives here is sinful.

Even if you have infinite peace with them, in their eyes, your peace is still a kind of disdain, so they will quietly hurt you, and this is their reward for your kindness.

Their fun is always contrary to your pride, but when you humble yourself, they will constantly mock you for your humility.

When you see something in someone, it's definitely going to burn, so be wary of villains.

In the face of you, they feel their own smallness and humility, so they want revenge, they want to retaliate against you with wordless meanness and invisible burning.

When you walk toward them, don't you notice that they have become silent, and that their own strength is constantly dissipating, like embers still rising in the fire?

Yes, dear friend, wake up, in the eyes of your neighbors, you are never beautiful, they do not deserve to be your neighbor, they hate you, they want to suck your blood.

Your neighbors are a bunch of poisonous flies, and there's always something sacred and shining in you that will make them hate you more, make them more vicious, more like a swarm of flies.

So, dear friend, get away from here and go to the lonely wilderness to enjoy the blowing of the cold wind. You don't have to turn yourself into a fly shoot, it's not your destiny.

Zarathustra said.