Daily Sip - Last Will

So to die
as once I saw him die-
the friend who like a god
cast glances of lightning into my dark youth:
-wanton, profound,
in the slaughter a dancer-

of fighters the cheerfullest,
of victors the sternest,
a destiny standing upon his destiny,
firm, reflecting, preflecting-:

trembling with joy of victory,
rejoicing that he died in victory:

by dying, commanding
-and he commanded destruction . . .

So to die
as once I saw him die:
victorious, destroying . .

-Friedrich Nietzsche, Dithyrambs of Dionysus

Died, destruction, and destroying ought to appear in italics.

It's up to Jordan to define "Dithyrambs."

Nietzsche wants us to express our Dionysous element (the intoxicated, natural, pleasure seeking, liberal side of us) freely.

Very, "will to power" it seems.

Note: "rejoicing the he died in victory"
- 'the' should be "that" I assume.

^Good catch. Changed it.

"Nietzsche wants us to express our Dionysous element (the intoxicated, natural, pleasure seeking, liberal side of us) freely."

Mmhm, there's the Dionysian side. And yet, also, we are to seize our own death.... not just accept it, but turn it into a work of art. I definitely get that feeling from this poem.

Www.thenietzschechannel.com/works-pub/dd/dd-eng.htm

In a small cemetery Saint Andrews AKA Hot Rod Haven, said to be one of the most haunted places in KY, is a tombstone not far from where my brother rests with this epitaph inscribed

"My Dear Friends as You Pass By
As You are Now, So Once Was I.
As I am Now, You Soon Must Be.
Prepare Yourselves to Follow Me."
Anon

There was never a genius without a tincture of madness.
Aristotle

"Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?"William Shakespeare

Death is not an opposition to life, but an important element of it.

- paraphrased from memory, from Murakami's Norweigan Wood. But Heideggar has the same idea as well...

We are all on our way towards death, (being-towards-death), and in a way, only our death really belongs to us. It really is. But the ironic thing is, we never experience our death far more than others who may know us. When you die, you don't even have a moment to contemplate on the pain, on the experience, we can't even see what or how our death would affect the world, and it would to even its smallest degree.

Odd and ironic I would say. Poetic.

Death is hard on the ones left behind, and on the one who passes, if they are not aware of what death really is. It is our ignorance that makes us suffer far more than we should. Death should be a celebration, after all: the one who passed the threshold is back where they came from after a (hopefully!) meaningful experience.

^Or, it's the knowledge of the impending death itself that gives meaning to the rest of it!

Yes, Sib..our time is indeed precious. it is sad to see how some waste their time on earth away. If you were to truly know you are here to learn, and that be your only goal, would hanging out in front of a tv, eating popcorn be your primary goal?(not talking about anyone in particular, but I do know many people this, who seem to just vegetate until death sets them free)

"-:"

Not sure I've seen that used before.

Death is what keeps us going, keeps us living. We wouldn't move if we knew our time will never run out.

I remember when I befriended a cancer patient in a hospital once when visiting a relative, she said that her pain had open the door of her life. That she was okay dying the way she was because it made her conscious of finally seeing how life is. Its ironic how the ignorance of when our clock will have its final tick, robs us of our own lives

Yeah not a huge fan of this poem. I'm as big a fan of death.

Both are menacingly important, but easily dismissed.

Sib, would you happen to know who translated the poem from German?

My copy's a translation by RJ Hollingdale. I could post up the original German if people were interested!

I don't know Sibby... not really feeling this one.

Yes, I would love to read the original version in German!

Letzter Wille

So sterben,
wie ich ihn einst sterben sah -,
den Freund, der Blitze und Blicke
goettlich in meine dunkle Jugend warf:
- mutwillig und tief,
in der Schlacht ein Taenzer -,

unter Kriegern der Heiterste,
unter Siegern der Schwerste,
auf seinem Schicksal ein Schicksal stehend,
hart, nachdenklich, vordenklich -:

erzitternd darob, dass er siegte,
jauchzend darueber, dass er sterbend siegte -:

befehlend, indem er starb,
- und er befahl, dass man vernichte...

So sterben,
wie ich ihn einst sterben sah:
siegend, vernichtend...

(Narph: as a poem, it's not really my taste either. But we're stretching the old literary faculty [located approximately under the sternum] here, I guess? Although, "Blitze und Blicke" is pretty fun for lightning.)

Yes, I like it better in German.
Have you looked at any of Rilke's work? There's a certain translation of the Sonnets to Orpheus that I love.

Thanks for posting the translation, Sib. It's always best to read poets in their own language, if you can!