Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I tell you, you gloomy ones, that life is beautiful. Life is beautiful in all its depths of suffering and misery and pain in all its depths of striving and joy and pleasure. I tell you, you nihilists, one draws breath only once, passes into and fades out of life only once. Yet you are to tell us it is worthless, this gift given to us all by chance? I tell you, you Christians, and all your compatriots who hate the flesh and the earth, who promise more life through sons of virgins and husbands of children, that nothing awaits after death. "Memento mori!” Why must you always chime this in our ears? Why must you fill men with such anxious fears? Many a man rules his life to this, dreads and gasps and despairs to this, prays that he may never come to this, but you delude him on, promising life after life. I tell you, that when we die, we cease ourselves to be. Our senses stop their feeling, our hearts stop their beating, our brains stop their thinking, and without those functions, there ends a man. So there are no souls to greet gods in heavens, nor any demons to meet in hells, only the ground we stand on, and the caskets underneath. Is this frightening? Maddening, to think we must one day cease to be and become nothing? But death is not nothing; Death is only a new dance of atoms. When one thing tumbles, it returns to the earth, through one step or another, to waltz and dissemble and collide to make new things and again asunder. With death, one only plays one's part on the grand stage of things. Do not be afraid then, of death; do not let it frighten you, that you will be pointless, forgotten, or condemned. Do not let it terrify you into leaving your life unlived. And so I tell you, you gloomy ones, you Christians, you nihilists, you sufferers, remember that you must live. Embrace life, this shortness of time, love every moment of your being, in all its depths of suffering and misery and pain, in all its depths of striving and joy and pleasure.
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Remember That You Must Live
I tell you, you gloomy ones, that life is beautiful. Life is beautiful in all its depths of suffering and misery and pain in all its depths of striving and joy and pleasure. I tell you, you nihilists, one draws breath only once, passes into and fades out of life only once. Yet you are to tell us it is worthless, this gift given to us all by chance? I tell you, you Christians, and all your compatriots who hate the flesh and the earth, who promise more life through sons of virgins and husbands of children, that nothing awaits after death. "Memento mori!” Why must you always chime this in our ears? Why must you fill men with such anxious fears? Many a man rules his life to this, dreads and gasps and despairs to this, prays that he may never come to this, but you delude him on, promising life after life. I tell you, that when we die, we cease ourselves to be. Our senses stop their feeling, our hearts stop their beating, our brains stop their thinking, and without those functions, there ends a man. So there are no souls to greet gods in heavens, nor any demons to meet in hells, only the ground we stand on, and the caskets underneath. Is this frightening? Maddening, to think we must one day cease to be and become nothing? But death is not nothing; Death is only a new dance of atoms. When one thing tumbles, it returns to the earth, through one step or another, to waltz and dissemble and collide to make new things and again asunder. With death, one only plays one's part on the grand stage of things. Do not be afraid then, of death; do not let it frighten you, that you will be pointless, forgotten, or condemned. Do not let it terrify you into leaving your life unlived. And so I tell you, you gloomy ones, you Christians, you nihilists, you sufferers, remember that you must live. Embrace life, this shortness of time, love every moment of your being, in all its depths of suffering and misery and pain, in all its depths of striving and joy and pleasure.
Blatantly inspired by Lucretius, as though delivered through the mouth of Nietzsche's Zarathustra.
alucinari
Written by
American
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem