Posted by: Paul Chiariello | January 15, 2011

In a God Who Could Dance

What do we have in common with the rose bud

Which trembles because a drop of dew lies on it?

It is true: we love life

Not because we are used to living

But because we are used to loving

For there is always some madness is love

But there is always some reason in madness

 

And to me also

For I am well disposed towards life

Soap bubbles and butterflies

And whatever among men is of their kind

That seem to know most about happiness

To see these light foolish pretty lively little souls flutter

That seduces me to tears and songs

 

I would only believe in a God who could dance

And when I saw my devil

I found him serious, thorough, profound and solemn

He is the spirit of gravity

Through him all things fall

 

Not by wrath does one kill but by laughter

Come let us kill the spirit of gravity

 

I learned to walk; ever since I let myself run

I learned to fly; ever since I do not need a push before moving along

Now I am light, now I fly

Now I see myself beneath myself

Now a God dances through me

 

 

 

~Fredriche Nietzche, Thus Spake Zarathustra

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