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Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Nietzsche: another Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei - Diesen ungewissen Seelen

Super Nietzsche
by Jordny
no copyright infringement intended
(http://svalts.tumblr.com/post/5046218352/super-nietzsche-by-jordny)



This cartoon of Super Nietzsche goes well (maybe?) with the song that follows. I come again with the question from the previous Lied of Prinz Vogelfrei (Nach neuen Meeren): what if we knew him only from this song? Well, it is here a bit (or much more than a bit) of his disdain for the Christian morality. Don't jump too quickly to conclusions, though. It is about Christian civilization, or better said, against a civilization that happens to be Christian. A civilization too old, not being any more what it thinks it is. I will come back to this. Now, try to let yourselves carried by the song - free as a bird.



Diesen ungewissen Seelen
Bin ich grimmig gram.
All ihr Ehren ist ein Quälen,
All ihr Lob ist Selbstverdruss und Scham.

Dass ich nicht an ihrem Stricke
Ziehe durch die Zeit,
Dafür grüsst mich ihrer Blicke
Giftig-süsser hoffnungsloser Neid.

Möchten sie mir herzhaft fluchen
Und die Nase drehn!
Dieser Augen hülflos Suchen
Soll bei mir auf ewig irre gehn.



Johannes Heesters, P. Schmidt-Pavloff, Fred Alexander, Beatrice Richter, Cordula Trantow, Kristina Walter, Angelica Camm, Karin Manner, Stephen Sikder, Florain Kiml, Antonia Sophia Niesig vor dem Kölner Dom
Music: Wolfgang Scheffler, Production: Uwe Niesig
(video by nisanus)


Souls that lack determination
Rouse my wrath to white-hot flame!
All their glory's but vexation,
All their praise but self-contempt and shame!

Since I baffle their advances.
Will not clutch their leading-string.
They would wither me with glances
Bitter-sweet, with hopeless envy sting.

Let them with fell curses shiver.
Curl their lip the livelong day!
Seek me as they will, forever
Helplessly their eyes shall go astray!






Ces âmes incertaines,
Je leur en veux à mort.
Tout leur honneur est un supplice,
Leurs louanges couvrent de honte

Parce que, au bout de leur laisse,
Je ne traverse pas les temps,
Le poison de l’envie, doux et désespéré,
Dans leur regard me salue.

Qu’ils m’injurient avec courage
En me tournant le dos!
Ces yeux suppliants et égarés
Sans cesse se tromperont sur moi.


(Nietzsche)

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