查拉图斯特拉如是说（英文全本）第 321 部分

emptiest

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thou the

goblet

again, in

wanting to

fill it!

And yet

must I

learn to

approach

thee more

modestly:

far too

violently

doth my

heart

still flow

towards

thee:— My

heart on

which my

summer

burneth,

my short,

hot,

melancholy,

over-

happy

summer:

how my

summer

heart

longeth

for thy

coolness!

Past, the

lingering

distress

of my

spring!

Past, the

wickedness

of my

snowflakes

in June!

Summer

have I

become

entirely,

and