From Part 4 Thus Spoke Zarathustra

By Friedrich Nietzsche

This is the Poem referred to by H. W. Brann in his book on Nietzsche’s sex life, Nietzsche und die Frauen mentioned in the post headed “Sex and the Philosopher who Specialised in Feeling Wretched” In his book Brann interprets this poem as a barely disguised recollection of a visit to a brothel. He noticed similarities between its phraseology and that of the version given to Deussen.

Among the Daughters of the Desert

The deserts grow: woe him who doth them hide!

-Ha!

Solemnly!

In effect solemnly!

A worthy beginning!

African manner, solemnly!

Of a lion worthy,

Or perhaps of a virtuous howl-monkey-

-But it’s naught to you,

Ye friendly damsels dearly loved,

At whose own feet to me,

The first occasion,

To a European under palm-trees,

At seat is now granted. Selah.

Wonderful, truly!

Here do I sit now,

The desert nigh, and yet I am

So far still from the desert,

Even in naught yet deserted:

That is, I’m swallowed down

By this the smallest oasis-:

-It opened up just yawning,

Its loveliest mouth agape,

Most sweet-odoured of all mouthlets:

Then fell I right in,

Right down, right through- in ‘mong you,

Ye friendly damsels dearly loved! Selah.

Hail! hail! to that whale, fishlike,

If it thus for its guest’s convenience

Made things nice!- (ye well know,

Surely, my learned allusion?)

Hail to its belly,

If it had e’er

A such loveliest oasis-belly

As this is: though however I doubt about it,

-With this come I out of Old-Europe,

That doubt’th more eagerly than doth any

Elderly married woman.

May the Lord improve it!

Amen!

Here do I sit now,

In this the smallest oasis,

Like a date indeed,

Brown, quite sweet, gold-suppurating,

For rounded mouth of maiden longing,

But yet still more for youthful, maidlike,

Ice-cold and snow-white and incisory

Front teeth: and for such assuredly,

Pine the hearts all  of ardent date-fruits. Selah.

To the there-named south-fruits now,

Similar, all-too-similar,

Do I lie here; by little

Flying insects

Round-sniffled and round-played,

And also by yet littler,

Foolisher, and peccabler

Wishes and phantasies,-

Environed by you,

Ye silent, Maiden-kittens,

Full of Misgivings,

Dudu and Suleika,

-Round sphinxed, that into one word

I may crowd much feeling:

(Forgive me, O God,

All such speech-sinning!)

-Sit I here the best of air sniffling,

Paradisal air, truly,

Bright and buoyant air, golden-mottled,

As goodly air as ever

From lunar orb downfell-

Be it by hazard,

Or supervened it by arrogancy?

As the ancient poets relate it.

But doubter, I’m now calling it

In question: with this do I come indeed

Out of Europe,

That doubt’th more eagerly than doth any

Elderly married woman.

May the Lord improve it!

Amen.

This the finest air drinking,

With nostrils out-swelled like goblets,

Lacking future, lacking remembrances,

Thus do I sit here, ye

Friendly damsels dearly loved,

And look at the palm-tree there,

How it, to a dance-girl, like,

Doth bow and bend and on its haunches bob,

-One doth it too, when one view’th it long!-

To a dance-girl like, who as it seem’th to me,

Too long, and dangerously persistent,

Always, always, just on single leg hath stood?

-Then forgot she thereby, as it seem’th to me,

The other leg?

For vainly I, at least,

Did search for the amissing

Fellow-jewel

-Namely, the other leg-

In the sanctified precincts,

Nigh her very dearest, very tenderest,

Flapping and fluttering and flickering skirting.

Yea, if ye should, ye beauteous friendly ones,

Quite take my word:

She hath, alas! lost it!

Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu! Hu!

It is away!

For ever away!

The other leg!

Oh, pity for that loveliest other leg!

Where may it now tarry, all-forsaken weeping?

The lonesomest leg?

In fear perhaps before a

Furious, yellow, blond and curled

Leonine monster? Or perhaps even

Gnawed away, nibbled badly-

Most wretched, woeful! woeful! nibbled badly! Selah.

Oh, weep ye not,

Gentle spirits!

Weep ye not, ye

Date-fruit spirits! Milk-bosoms!

Ye sweetwood-heart

Purselets!

Weep ye no more,

Pallid Dudu!

Be a man, Suleika! Bold! Bold!

-Or else should there perhaps

Something strengthening, heart-strengthening,

Here most proper be?

Some inspiring text?

Some solemn exhortation?-

Ha! Up now! honour!

Moral honour! European honour!

Blow again, continue,

Bellows-box of virtue!

Ha!

Once more thy roaring,

Thy moral roaring!

As a virtuous lion

Nigh the daughters of deserts roaring!

-For virtue’s out-howl,

Ye very dearest maidens,

Is more than every

European fervour, European hot-hunger!

And now do I stand here,

As European,

I can’t be different, God’s help to me!

Amen!

The deserts grow: woe him who doth them hide!

Go to Post: Sex and the Philosopher who Specialised in Feeling Wretched

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