//------------------------------// // Hadewins Vorrede/Hadewin's Preface // Story: The overpony // by Jeremias //------------------------------// Hadewin's preface 1. When Hadewin was thirty years old, he left his homeland and the lake of his homeland and went into the mountains. Here he enjoyed his spirit and his loneliness and never got tired of his ten years. But at last his heart changed, and one morning he got up with the dawn, stepped out to the sun, and said to her: " You big star! What would be your luck if you did not have the one you shine? Ten years you came up here to my cave: you would have been full of your light and this way, without me, my eagle and my serpent. But we were waiting for you every morning, taking away your abundance and blessing you for it. Behold! I am tired of my wisdom, like the bee that has collected too much of the honey, I need the hands that reach out. I want to give and give away until the wise pony among the ponies have once again become glad of their folly and the poor once again of their wealth. To do that, I have to descend into the depths: as you do in the evening, when you go behind the sea and still bring light to the underworld, you over-rich star! I have to go down, like you as the ponies call it, to whom I want to go down. So bless me, you calm eye, that without envy can see too much happiness! Bless the cup that will overflow, that the water will flow out golden from it, and bear everywhere the reflection of your bliss! Behold! This cup wants to be empty again, and Hadewin wants to become a pony again. " -So Hadewin's demise began. 2. Hadewin alone descended the mountains and no one met him. But when he came into the woods, an old stallion suddenly stood before him, who had left his holy hut to seek roots in the forest. And so the old stallion spoke to Hadewin: This hiker is no stranger to me: many years ago he passed by here. He was called Hadewin; but he has changed. At that time you carried your ashes to the mountains: do you want to carry your fire into the valleys today? Are not you afraid of the arsonist's punishments? Yes, I recognize Hadewin. His eye is clean, and there is no disgust in his mouth. Does not he therefore walk like a dancer? Hadewin has been transformed, Hadewin became the child, and an awakened one is Hadewin: what do you want now among the sleeping? As in the sea, you lived in solitude, and the sea carried you. Woe, you want to go ashore? Woe, you want to haul your own body again? Hadewin answered, "I love the ponies." Why, said the saint, did I go into the forest and the wasteland? Was not it because I loved ponies too much? Now I love God: I do not love ponies. Ponies are a too imperfect thing for me. Love for ponies would kill me. Hadewin answered, "What did I speak of love! I bring a gift to the ponies. " Give them nothing, said the saint. Take something from them and carry it with them - that will do them the most good: if only you are well! And if you will give them, then give no more than a charity, and let them beg for it! " No, Hadewin answered, I do not give alms. I'm not poor enough for that. " The saint laughed at Hadewin and said: "See that they accept your treasures! They are suspicious of the hermits and do not believe that we come to give. Our footsteps sound too lonely through the streets. And as if they hear a pony walking in their beds at night, long before the sun rises, they wonder: where does the thief want to go? Do not go to the ponies and stay in the forest! Better go to the animals! Why do not you want to be like me, a bear among bears, a bird among birds? " And what is the saint doing in the forest?" Asked Hadewin. The saint answered: I make songs and sing them, and when I make songs, I laugh, cry, and groan, so I praise God. With singing, crying, laughing and hum, I praise the God who is my God. But what are you bringing us for a present? When Hadewin heard these words, he greeted the saint and said, "What would I have to give you! But let me quickly forget that I take nothing from you! "- And so they parted from each other, the old stallion and the stallion, laughing, as two colts laugh. But when Hadewin was alone, he spoke to his heart: "Should it be possible! This old saint has heard nothing in his forest that God dead is! "- 3. When Hadewin came to the next town, which lies in the woods, he found there a great number of ponies assembled in the market: for it had been promised that a tightrope walker should be seen. And Hadewin thus spoke to the ponies: I teach you the overpony! Ponies are something to be overcome. What did you do to overcome him? Up to now, all beings have created something beyond themselves: and you want to be the low tide of this great flood and prefer to go back to animals instead of overcome Ponies? What is the mesohippus for ponies? A laughter or a painful shame. And that is what ponies should be for the overponies: a laughter or a painful shame. You have made the path from worm to pony, and much is still worm in you. Once upon a time you were mesohippus, and even now ponies is more mesohippus than any mesohippus. But whoever is the wisest of you, is also only a dichotomy and hybrid of plant and ghost. But am I going to turn you into ghosts or plants? See, I teach you the overpony! The overpony is the meaning of the earth. Your will say: the overpony bethe meaning of the earth! I implore you, my brothers, remains true to the earth and do not believe those who speak of supernatural hopes! It's poisoners, whether they know it or not. They are the despisers of life, dying and poisoned, whose earth is weary: that is how they may go! The outrage of God was once the greatest sacrilege, but God died, and with it those wicked ones died. To dishonor the earth is now the most terrible and the guts of the unknowable to respect more than the meaning of the earth! At one time, the soul looked scornfully on the body: and then this contempt was the highest: - she wanted him meager, ghastly, starved to death. So she thought to escape him and the earth. Oh, that soul itself was still thin, dreadful and starving: and cruelty was the lust of this soul! But you too, my brethren, say to me, what does your body say about your soul? Is not your soul poverty and filth and pitiful comfort? Truly, a dirty stream is the pony. You have to be a sea to be able to pick up a dirty stream without becoming impure. Behold, I teach you the overpony: that is this sea, in it may your great contempt go under. What is the biggest thing you can experience? This is the hour of great contempt. The hour when your happiness becomes disgust, and so is your reason and your virtue. The hour when you say, "What is my luck? It is poverty and filth, and a pathetic comfort. But my happiness should justify existence itself! " The hour when you say, "What is in my reason? Does she long for knowledge like the lion for his food? She is poverty and filth and a pathetic comfort! " The hour when you say, "What is my virtue? She has not made me race yet. How tired am I of my good and my evil! All this is poverty and filth and a pathetic comfort! " The hour when you say, "What is my justice? I do not see that I'm hot and charcoal. But the righteous is glory and coal! " The hour when you say, "What is my pity? Is not compassion the cross nailed to the one who loves ponies? But my pity is not a crucifixion. " Are you already talking like that? Did you already scratch like that? Oh, that I already heard you screaming! Not your sin - your frugality calls to heaven, your avarice even in your sin cries to heaven! Where is the lightning that licks you with his tongue? Where is the madness with which you should be vaccinated? Behold, I teach you the overpony: that is this lightning, that is this madness! - When Hadewin had spoken thus, one of the ponies shouted, "We heard enough of the Acrobat; now let us see him too! "And all the ponies laughed at Hadewin. The tightrope walker, however, who believed that the word was true to him, set to work. 4. But Hadewin looked at the ponies and wondered. Then he spoke: Ponykind is a rope, knotted between animal and the overpony, a rope over a precipice. A dangerous crossing, a dangerous on-the-way, a dangerous look back, a dangerous shudder and a halt. What is great about pony, that is, that he is a bridge and not a purpose: what can be loved in pony, that is, that he is one crossing and a downfall is. I love those who do not know to live unless they are going down, because they are the ones passing by. I love the great despisers, because they are the great worshipers and arrows of yearning for the other shore. I love those who do not seek a reason behind the stars to perish and be victims: but who sacrifice themselves to the earth, that the earth will once become the overpony. I love him who lives, that he may know, and he who seeks to know, that the overpony may once live. And so he wants his downfall. I love him who works and invents, that he builds the house for the overpony, and prepares earth, beast, and plant for him: for thus he wills his downfall. I love him who loves his virtue: for virtue is the will to doom and an arrow of yearning. I love the one who does not keep a drop of spirit for himself, but wants to be the very spirit of his virtue: so he walks across the bridge as a ghost. I love him who makes of his virtue his inclination and his fate: thus, for the sake of his virtue, he still wants to live and no longer live. I love the one who does not want too many virtues. A virtue is more virtue than two, because it is more knot to which the fatality hangs. I love the one whose soul is wasted, who does not want to have thanks and does not give back: for he always gives and does not want to preserve himself. I love the one who is ashamed when the dice falls to his luck and then asks: am I a wrong player? - because he wants to go to the bottom. I love the one who throws gold words ahead of his deeds and still holds more than he promises: for he wants his downfall. I love the one who justifies the future and redeems the past: for he wants to perish on the present. I love the one who chastises his God because he loves his God: for he must perish by the wrath of his God. I love the one, whose soul is deep even in wounding, and who can die of a small experience: he likes to cross the bridge. I love the one whose soul is overflowing, so that he forgets himself, and all things are in him: thus all things become his downfall. I love the one who is of free mind and free heart: so his head is only the bowels of his heart, but his heart drives him to destruction. I love all those who are like heavy drops, falling one by one from the dark cloud that hangs over ponies: they announce that the lightning is coming, and they are at the bottom of their proclamation. See, I am a publisher of lightning and a heavy drop from the cloud: but this lightning is called overpony. - 5. When Hadewin had spoken these words, he again addressed the ponies and said nothing. "There they stand," he said to his heart, "they laugh: they do not understand me, I'm not the mouth for these ears. Do you first have to break their ears that they learn to hear with their eyes? Do you have to rattle like timpani and penance preachers? Or do they only believe the stammering? They have something to be proud of. What do they call it, what makes them proud? Education they call it, it distinguishes them from the goatherds. That's why they do not like to hear the word "contempt". So I want to talk to her proud. So I want to speak to them of the most contemptible thing: that is the last pony. " And so Hadewin said to the ponies: It is time for pony to set his own goal. It is time for pony to plant the germ of his highest hope. His soil is still rich enough. But this soil will once be poor and tame, and no tall tree will be able to grow more out of it. Woe! Here comes the time when pony no longer throws the arrow of his longing beyond pony, and has forgotten the bow of his bow to whirr! I tell you: you still have to have chaos in yourself to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: you still have chaos in you. Woe! There comes the time when pony will no longer give birth to a star. Woe! There comes the time of the most despicable pony who can no longer despise himself. Look! I show you the last pony. " What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is Stern? "- asks the last pony and blinks. The earth then became small, and on top of it hopped the last pony, who makes everything small. His race is inexpressible, like the flea of the earth; the last person lives the longest. " We invented happiness" - says the last pony and blink. They left the areas where it was hard to live: because you need warmth. You still love the neighbor and rub against him: because you need warmth. Being sick and suspicious is sinful for them: one is attentive. A fool who still stumbles over stones or ponies! A little poison now and then: that makes pleasant dreams. And a lot of poison last, to a pleasant death. You're still working, because work is a conversation. But you ensure that the conversation does not attack. One no longer becomes poor and rich: both are too difficult. Who still wants to rule? Who still obey? Both are too difficult. No shepherd and a flock! Everyone wants the same, everyone is the same: whoever feels differently, voluntarily goes to the madhouse. "Informer times all the world was crazy" - say the finest and blink. One is clever and knows everything that has happened: thus one has no end to scoff. You still quarrel, but you soon reconcile - otherwise it spoils the stomach. One has his chap for the day and his chap for the night: but one honors the health. "We invented happiness" - says the last pony and blink.- And here ended the first speech of Hadewin, which is also called "the preface": for at this point the shouting and the lust of the crowd interrupted him."Give us this last pony, O Hadewin, they cried, make us these last ponies! So we give you the overpony! "And all the ponies cheered and clucked their tongues. Hadewin, however, became sad and said to his heart: They do not understand me: I'm not the mouth for these ears. For too long I lived in the mountains, too much I listened to streams and trees: now I talk to them like the goatherds. My soul is unmoved and bright as the mountains in the morning. But they say I'm cold and a scoffer in terrible jokes. And now they look at me and laugh: and by laughing, they still hate me. It's ice in their laugh. 6. But then something happened that silenced every mouth and stared every eye.In the meantime the tightrope-dancer had begun his work: he had stepped out of a small door and was crossing the rope, which was stretched between two towers, so that it hung over the market and the ponies.When he was just in the middle of his way, the little door opened once more, and a colorful fellow, like a buffoon, jumped out and followed the first with quick steps."Forward, stupider, called his terrible voice, lazy forwards, stalker, pale face!That I'm not tickling you with my heel!What are you doing here between towers? In the tower you belong, you should lock yourself up, a better one than you are, you block the free path! "- And with each word he came closer and closer to him: but when he was only a step behind him, it happened the terrible thing that silenced every mouth and stared every eye: he uttered a cry like a devil and jumped over Him who was in his way.But the latter, seeing his rival win, lost his head and rope;he threw his pole away and shot faster than this, like a whirl of arms and legs, into the depths. The market and the ponies resembled the sea when the storm rushed in: everything escaped from each other and over each other, and most of them where the body had to settle. Hadewin, however, stopped, and just beside him the body fell down, badly damaged and broken, but not yet dead.After a while, the shattered pony regained consciousness, and he saw Hadewin kneeling beside him. "What are you doing there? he finally said, I knew for a long time that the devil would put a foot to me.Now he's dragging me to hell: do you want to fight him? " "By my honor, friend," answered Hadewin, "that is not all that you speak of: there is no devil, no hell.Your soul will be dead more quickly than your body: fear now nothing more! " The pony looked up suspiciously."If you speak the truth," he said, "I'll lose nothing if I lose my life."I am little more than an animal taught to dance by blows and small bites. " "No," said Hadewin;you made your profession out of danger, there is nothing to despise about it.Now you are going to ruin your profession: for that I want to bury you with my hands. " When Hadewin had said this, the dying pony no longer answered;but he moved his hand as if seeking the hand of Hadewin for his thanks.- 7. In the meantime the evening came, and the market was hidden in darkness: there the pony went, for even curiosity and terror are getting tired.But Hadewin sat beside the dead on the earth and was lost in thought: so he forgot the time.Finally it was night, and a cold wind blew over the lonely.Then Hadewin got up and said to his heart: Truly, Hadewin did a nice fishing today!He did not catch a pony, but a corpse. Scary is the pony existence and still without meaning: a buffoon can be a fatal to him. I want to teach pony the meaning of their being: which is the overpony, the lightning from the dark cloud, called ponykind. But I am still far from them, and my meaning does not speak to their senses.I am still in the middle between a fool and a corpse. Dark is the night, dark are the ways of Hadewin. Come on, you cold and stiff fellow!I carry you to where I bury you with my hands. 8. When Hadewin had said this to his heart, he loaded the corpse on his back and set off. And yet he had not gone a hundred paces, then a pony sneaked up to him and whispered in his ear - and see! He who spoke was the buffoon of the tower. "Go away from this city, O Hadewin," he said; too many hate you here. The good and the righteous hate you, and they call you their enemy and despiser; the faithful of the true faith hate you, and they call you the danger of the crowd. Your luck was that they laughed at you: and truly, you talked like a buffoon. Your luck was that you joined the dead dog; When you humiliated yourself, you saved yourself for today. But go out of this city - or tomorrow I will leap over you, a living one over a dead. "And when he had said this, he disappeared; Hadewin continued on through the dark streets. At the gates of the city the gravediggers met him : they shone a torch on his face, recognized Hadewin, and mocked him. "Hadewin carries the dead dog away: good enough that Hadewin became a gravedigger! Because our hands are too clean for this roast. Will Hadewin probably steal the devil's bite? Well well! And good luck to the meal! If only the devil is not a better thief than Hadewin! - he steals them both, he eats them both! "And they laughed together and put their heads together. Hadewin said nothing and went his way. When he had gone for two hours, past woods and swamps, he had heard too much the hungry howling of the wolves, and he himself was hungry. So he stopped at a lonely house, in which a light was burning. Hunger attacks me, Hadewin said, like a robber. In forests and swamps my hunger attacks me and in deep night. Whimsical whims are my hunger. Often he comes to me after the meal, and today he did not come the whole day: where was he? And with that Hadewin struck at the gate of the house. An old stallion appeared; he carried the light and asked: "Who comes to me and to my bad sleep?" " A living and a dead, Hadewin said. Give me food and drink, I forgot it during the day. He who feeds the hungry refreshes his own soul: thus speaks the wisdom. " The old stallion left, but returned immediately and offered Hadewin bread and wine. "It is a bad place for the hungry," he said; That's why I live here. Animal and pony come to me, the hermit. But also call your companion food and drink, he is more weary than you. "Hadewin answered:" Death is my companion, I will hardly persuade him to do it. "" That concerns me nothing, said the old grumpy; Whoever knocks on my house must also take what I offer him. Eat and have you well! "- Thereupon Hadewin again went for two hours, trusting in the way and the light of the stars: for he was a habitual night-walker, and loved to look every sleeper in the face. But when the morning dawned, Hadewin found himself in a deep forest, and no way showed itself to him any more. So he laid the dead pony in a hollow tree at his head-for he wanted to protect him from the wolves-and himself on the ground and the moss. And immediately he fell asleep, tired body, but with a still soul. 9. Long slept Hadewin, and not only the dawn was over his face, but also the morning. Finally, however, his eye opened up. Hadewin looked with astonishment into the forest and the silence, looking in wonder. Then he rose quickly, like a sailor who suddenly sees land, and exulted: for he saw a new truth. And so he spoke to his heart: A light opened on me: Companions I need and living ones, not dead companions and corpses, which I carry with me wherever I want. But I need living companions who follow me because they want to follow themselves - and wherever I want. A light opened on me: do not speak to the ponies Hadewin, but to companions! Hadewin should not become the shepherd of a flock! Lost many away from the flock - that's what I came to. The ponies and the flock should anger me: Raider will Hadewin be called by the shepherds. Shepherds I say, but they call themselves the good and the righteous. Shepherds I say: but they call themselves the faithful of the true faith. Behold the good and the righteous! Whom do they hate? The most? he who breaks their tablets of value, the crusher, the criminal: but that is the creator. See the believers of all faith! Who do you hate most? he who breaks their tablets of value, the crusher, the criminal: but that is the creator. Companions seeks the creator and not corpses, nor do heirs and believers. The creators are looking for the creator, the ones who write new values on new tablets. Companion seeks the creator, and the farmer: for everything is ready for him to harvest. But he lacks the hundred sickles: so he spits ears and is annoyed. Fellowship seeks the creator, and those who know how to whet their sickles. They will be called exterminators and despisers of good and evil. But it is the harvesters and the revelers. Hadewin is looking for creators, harvesters and revelers: what has he to do with herds and shepherds and corpses! And you, my first companion, you are well! Well, I buried you in your hollow tree, well I hid you from the wolves. But I'm leaving you, time is up. Between dawn and dawn came a new truth. I should not be a shepherd, not a gravedigger. I do not want to talk again with the ponies; for the last time I spoke to a dead pony. I want to join the creators, the harvesters and the revelers: I want to show them the rainbow and all the stairs of the overpony. I will sing my song to the hermits and the two-settlers; and who still has ears for the unheard of, I will make his heart heavy with my fortune. I want my goal, I go my way; I'll jump over the hesitant and the frustrated. So my way is their downfall! 10. This was what Hadewin had spoken to his heart when the sun was at noon. Then he looked inquiringly into the air, for he heard the sharp call of a bird above him. And see! An eagle wandered in wide circles through the air, and a snake hung from it, not like a prey, but to a friend, for she curled around his neck. "They are my animals," said Hadewin, and was glad of his heart. The proudest animal under the sun and the brightest animal under the sun - they have moved out to the customers. They want to explore whether Hadewin is still alive.Verily, am I still alive? I found it more dangerous among ponies than among animals; dangerous ways go to Hadewin. May my animals lead me! " When Hadewin had said this, he remembered the words of the saint in the forest, and sighed, and said unto his heart: I would like to be smarter! I want to be wise from the ground up, like my snake! But I beg the impossible: so I ask my pride, that he always go with my wisdom! And when my wisdom once leaves me: - oh, she loves to fly away!- may my pride then fly with my folly! -So Hadewin's demise began.